Tor, wisely, decided to keep his mouth shut. The situation was pretty serious and the angry man that wanted to be satisfied was already half way to combat rage. Stupid ultimately, but that didn’t mean that people wouldn’t end up dying over it. Possibly in that room, within the hour, if it was played wrong. Tor was glad he had his shield on, but as he felt around mentally, he noticed that no one else did. Connie and Rich weren’t wearing theirs at all.
Even if they secretly didn’t like him, they should have worn the shields. Maybe they weren’t nice enough looking? He could, probably, work something into stone or crystal that would work better for them. Rich people did that sometimes. It was harder to do, but fields on stone just lasted longer, sometimes ten times or more. He’d look into it. They were supposed to be friends after all, so if he saw a way to help them, he had to. It was a rule.
The dispute was between a Baron and a Duchess, who were supposed to have been married at one point, but the situation had fallen through when the Duchess decided that she loved someone else instead. Or possibly just thought she had a better business deal set up. Not a good thing, but it sounded like it was handled well enough at the time, go betweens used, and egos soothed enough that no one had been overly angry.
No one had spoken loudly in negative terms about the other in public for instance. No screaming drunkenly in restaurants or anything.
Over the five years since though, things had gotten strained between them, the Baron refusing right of transit across his lands for instance, which was inconvenient for the Duchess and the man she’d finally married, who turned out to be the head of the Lintel Merchant house, since they’d recently set up a new manufacturing concern to replace their lost military shield contracts. Water pumps and temperature equalizers. They needed the route for rapid shipping.
Tor blinked.
Well.
Apparently Sara had actually been busy at least. Maybe he’d been hasty in lumping her and Debri in with how Trice felt about him? The girl wasn’t the one that had said those things, even if Trice was her best friend.
Tor took a deep breath, which made the Baron snap at him. The man was so enraged that he clearly wanted an excuse to lash out.
“What you think that I shouldn’t have the right to manage my own lands?” The tone was angry and sullen and the words clearly directed directly at Tor, which made the entire royal family stiffen in response. Tor shook his head.
“It’s not that, not at all. I was just thinking about a personal matter that, well… your own situation just pointed out to me that I may have lumped someone else in to a personal matter of my own, unfairly. I guess I have to see to fixing that before I hurt people that aren’t involved in other matters.”
“What?” The Baron asked, his face showing that what Tor had just said didn’t make any sense at all.
Right. Why would he know anything about it?
Tor explained the whole thing, knowing that it made him look foolish and stupid, weak and undesirable, but not wanting the Baron to feel like he was being made fun of. When he came to the end of it he had tears in his eyes, and the room was silent, probably wondering how this half mad midget had gotten into the room. The Queen handed him a light pink handkerchief to blot his eyes with, which had to look ridiculous, but at least his nose wasn’t running from it yet.
The Baron looked at the others in the room, the woman next to him, a fairly young and pretty person that turned out to be his wife, now looked at Tor with tears in her own eyes. Was he so pitiful that even strangers felt sorry for him? It almost made him laugh, but he didn’t want the situation to be misunderstood. Laughing at the already stressed out Baron would end badly. If nothing else the giant man would probably challenge him to a duel. If he didn’t just pull a weapon and attack. The man had three of them. A knife hidden in his jacket, a force lance of indifferent quality and a cutter that had about a two foot sweep on it. Nothing he had would touch Tor, sure, but that didn’t mean an attack wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Instead of anything like that the whole room just stayed quiet for a long time.
“Fine. I’ll allow passage through my lands.” The Baron said gruffly, biting the words as he spoke, not looking at anyone at all. The King looked at the Duchess, who’d grinned suddenly, but hadn’t said anything. The gaze didn’t waiver and after a while seemed to pin the woman in place, she went still. After nearly a minute, her face frozen into blankness, she spoke.
“I apologize for trying to force my way through. It was high handed and unnecessary. Please accept my apology and promise to not do so again.” Her words didn’t have a truly sincere ring to them as far as Tor could tell and her face didn’t look like the matter was really settled either, but the King seemed satisfied with her response and had them all shown the door with a strong suggestion that they not come back to him on related issues for at least another five years.
Connie reached over and patted at his right hand lightly, forcing herself to comfort him, Tor guessed. He was fine though. Embarrassed about what he’d said, but that was all. It didn’t really matter. No woman wanted him anyway, so if they all learned what Trice thought of him, well that wouldn’t change their minds anyway. If you were an ugly little troll, that was hard to hide, right? All he could do was try to be a good person and hope that would be enough in the end.
The chairs were rearranged and only one was left in front of the group of four this time. An older woman came in, tall, like all the nobles were of course, but this one looked tired and care worn. Her clothing was of fine quality, but looked old and had some spots on it. She was quite about it, but it was pretty obvious after a few minutes that the woman didn’t live in the same reality that the rest of them did at all. Her mind was gone and seemed to have been for a long time.
The scary thing was that the woman was a sitting Countess. Unmarried and childless, she had complete control of an entire County, one of the northern ones that used to be rich, until she’d gained power some fifty years before. County Cannor. They hadn’t exactly suffered under her, but she wasn’t a good leader either from what Tor could glean. Distracted at times if nothing else.
She just seemed to want to visit though, and didn’t have a real issue at all. Not even an imaginary one, which was kind of a relief. What would they have done if she announced herself under attack by forces no one else could see or hear? The King was required to give a certain amount of aid in case of unlawful attack, and honestly, imaginary foes had no lawful reason for attack, did they? It would have been an almost impossible fight to win too. Worse, Tor had a strong feeling that if it came to it, he’d have been the one ordered into battle. Rolph too probably. The woman couldn’t argue that the heir and his best friend going to her aid was less than the King really taking notice, even if she was a little off.
He had a momentary vision of both of them dressed in armor made of wood shingles holding broad children’s play swords running around for weeks trying to slay an invisible dragon.
After half an hour the woman stood and left without saying goodbye. No one commented on it at all. The King just smiled at her back, seeming relieved and happy enough.
“Last one coming…”
Two chairs were put out and the Morgans were lead into the room, by one of the Royal Guard, an older fellow that looked to be important, if the extra bit of gold on his collar meant anything. Both wore somber clothing in dark colors. Death colors. They walked in with heads high, until they saw Tor sitting there. He tried not to look away or glare, but really, he didn’t know what to do with himself either. He felt ambushed and glanced at the Queen next to him, then over at the King and finally Rolph, who at least looked a bit shocked too. That part was nice. At least his stupid looking facial expression had his friends company.
The Prince sat up very straight and pointed at them rudely.
“What are they doing here? After what Trice did…” He looked at them angrily. “After what she said about Tor, you two are just lucky that he’s agreed not to kill you. For now. I had to beg a promise from him for that much! I’d have thought you’d be hiding away somewhere hoping you weren’t found. He may not be “noble” enough for your daughter, but you should just thank all gods that he’s not! Anyone else, and I mean anyone, would have attacked already and not given you a reprieve.”
They both sat without responding at first, finally Mercy looked at the Queen and spoke softly.
“Um. Well, this is delicate then isn’t it? We… didn’t know that Tor would be here still. We’ve tried to talk to Patricia, but she won’t answer our letters, or at least hasn’t yet. We don’t really know what’s going on, just that the wedding is off and that Tor’s demanding all the devices he gave us back? Is that right? And Alphonse is obviously upset, but… What’s going on? I’d thought we left on, if not good terms, then at least as good as possible. Did you two have a fight?” She looked at Tor with concern in her eyes.
Tor wondered if they really didn’t know or if this was just one of those complicated ruses that the nobles liked to pull off to make each other look stupid. It could be, he knew. One of the things that Trice had pointed out was that he wasn’t very bright after all.
Grimly Rolph recounted the whole event in the restaurant and how he’d had to beg Tor not to destroy half the kingdom, which was still tenuous, as Tor had a super-weapon that could do just that. Tor almost laughed about it, not because it wasn’t true, but because he literally had it on his person. Hanging on a little cord around his neck. The Morgans went white as sheets. Not, Tor noticed, at the implied threat Rolph had delivered, but before that, when they heard the words that had been spoken about him.
“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like her… perhaps someone misconstrued or reported the words of someone else?” Mercy began. Rolph held up his right hand and stopped her.
“Heard it myself. Hard to ignore actually, since she was kind of yelling it to the whole room. It wasn’t even in private, so that dignity could be preserved. It wasn’t even during a fight, so that we could blame anger or lack of caution. Nor was she too far gone into drink for sensibility. She knew where she was, and what she was saying. The people around her even argued against her, not knowing we were there to hear them, but she persisted anyway. She wasn’t being led by her fellows into this… If Doretta had been half as vile Wylde would have killed her in the street.” The last bit came out as a low growl.
Tor wanted to leave. Why did he have to deal with these people? He hadn’t wronged them, had he? For all he knew they had him poisoned on their daughters behalf. She even said to a room of strangers that he was too nice and trusting, too easily taken in.
What did they want from him?
It took a long time for them to get to that. What they wanted, it turned out, was to not have to give the stuff back. Richard let out a huff of air that sounded half like a growl himself, matching the tone of the room perfectly.
“Really? In all this, the most important thing you can come up with to bring to our attention is that? Gold? You have gold! I thought better of you both. I’m very disappointed in you.”
They both hung their heads briefly, but Eric rallied first.
“It’s not gold, not just that… anyway, we’ve formed hundreds of contracts with people for goods shipments, most of them perishables, if we don’t do it, then a lot of people that have been waiting for our rapid transportation are going to be stuck, many of them losing a lot because they’d gambled on our ability to get things across the kingdom for them. We dealt in good faith, but now… I can see the reasoning, I even agree, but it isn’t fair to these others.”
The discussion drifted away from him directly for a bit at least. It was both an easy and hard situation.
“So let me get this straight,” Tor finally put in, anger creeping in to his voice even as he tried to hide it from everyone. It made him sound cold and mean anyway. “I either help you make a bunch of gold, or loads of people that haven’t done anything to me at all suffer because I’m being petty? On one hand I can easily fix this by just letting you go ahead, but on the other, if I do, I’m weak and spineless? I just want to make sure I have this all right. After all, it’s you two, and your own daughter, that are setting these conditions.”
What the hell was he supposed to do? He was being petty, even in his anger he could see that, but if he didn’t do it, he’d look weak. To her. Then again, should he even care what she thought about him at all? Tor knew the answer to that without even thinking. He’d though she was his friend and all the while she’d just been using him. She didn’t deserve to have any of his thoughts or concern at all. If he was too nice, or too stupid or even too ugly, well, that was just what he was.
“You know. I hate to mention this, but there’s a really good chance, given what she was saying about me and where the juice came from, that Trice was the one that poisoned me.” Tor didn’t let anyone else speak, waving them to quiet with his right hand first.
“She knows how to do it, she’s mentioned that more than once in fact. More, she could easily have gotten access to the barrel at any point in the process and stated, after the fact, that she hates me and wished I’d died. I knew that we weren’t really going to get married the whole time, I’m not that dumb. Really, I can’t see why you people keep thinking I am. Kind isn’t really the same thing, you know. But I’d thought that we were friends enough that she’d just tell me when the thing was up and we’d keep being friends after that. I don’t know why she’d want me dead, even if I disgust her. Even if she didn’t want to be my friend… It’s hard for me to believe even now, but…”
Tor’s mind made the connections rapidly then.
“God. She’s even the same height as Wensa, and knew that I didn’t wear the shield turned on all the time back then, especially after meals, when I was kicked down the stairs. I know that she has the skill physically, and she even knows when I go to dinner. Crap…” Tears stung his eyes as he spoke.
“She’s had enough access to our room to know how to get in too. The food just showed up on my bed. So whoever did it knew which bed was mine too. Not that hard to do, since Rolph’s bed is special, way nicer than mine, but still, it’s a lot of little stuff adding up…”
Everyone stared at him.
“No…” Eric said, standing up suddenly.
Next him Mercy stood as well. “It can’t be. There simply has to be another explanation. I…”
Looking confused they both stormed out quickly, as if fearing that to stay meant arrest or death. Or possibly that they’d have to face the facts, which might be even scarier for them. Had it really been her? Tor tried to line everything up, it wasn’t, he could see, proof of anything, but a lot of things fell in line really nicely. Or it did now that he knew that she’d hated him the whole time. Even that gods awful fake crying of hers. Who cries like that?
Someone trying to trick you, that’s who.
He buried his head in his hands for a few moments then sat up. Nothing had really changed for him. He didn’t know anything for sure and his absolute position in the universe was still the same as when he walked into the room. Sure… Tor felt pretty crummy, of course he did.
“Even stupid little trolls have their pride, don’t they?” He said to the room, not caring if anyone else got it at all.
Getting up slowly he went to find his trunks, Rolph walking along behind him. They were in a room just off the kitchen, which was pretty close to the first place he’d checked. The lid was up on one of them, it was clear that it had been gone through. He pointed at the state of it, it was the trunk that held all the devices, and all his normally neat stacks were scrambled. How annoying.
“If people want stuff, I really wish they’d just ask, you know? It’s not like I’ve ever refused to give someone something that they wanted. So, who do you think it was?” He re-latched the box and tapped the second float plate with his amulet, then picked the box up with a grunt. He repeated it with the second one, leaving both hanging in the air beside him. It took some pushing to guide them through the door of the small room, but he managed with some pulling and a few half hearted kicks.
“The staff? Some noble that figured out what was in there? One of your sisters?” He smiled. The idea of Varley going through his things was ridiculous. Karina might, but not the younger one. She was smart enough to just request what she wanted, or possibly just mention that having something would be nice, it wasn’t like he’d been stingy with the stuff he made or anything, was it? For that matter Karina probably got that too by now.
The large head tilted as they walked.
“Probably none of the above. My guess? The Royal Guard. Hearing you have a super-weapon they probably felt obligated to try and find it, if it was in the palace itself. If nothing else just to see to the safety of the King. Kind of their job.”
That made sense. Of course the little device was hanging on a cord around his neck at the moment, but Tor didn’t bother mentioning that. After all, shield or not, trying to use it on the ground put you too close to the blast itself. He really doubted anyone could survive that. It was a stupid weapon really. Too powerful to be used in almost any situation. From the air, pointed far away from you was about it. Maybe pointed at flying people a long ways off? Still he didn’t want to have a big fight over it.
The marble floors made only small sounds as he walked out the door to the back of the complex, towards the guest house. The lawn was huge and well tended, which probably took specialty cutters. How did you make it perfectly flat like that three inches from the ground without some kind of guide? He tapped the float plates and let the cases settle behind him.
“Right, that makes sense. Anyway, um, I don’t know when I’ll be back around here, if I ever am, so, thanks. I’ve been glad to have you as my friend.” He held out his hand to shake, but Rolph crossed his arms instead of taking it.
“You say that like you’re going someplace. Our rooms are made up in the guest house and by the way, no one here is going to take no for an answer. Varley said that if I let you go away right now she’d never speak to me again. Now, she’s just a kid, true, but I think she was serious about giving it a good try. Have you ever tried to be the heir to a kingdom if your little sister refuses to communicate with you directly? You may think my jobs easy, but… Let’s just say I’m counting on you as a friend to help me avoid that.” He managed to say all this with a straight face.
“I… just don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I can stay at an inn or something, or, I don’t know, go camp out maybe? I mean… I basically just accused Trice of poisoning me, and she’s your family.” Tor looked at the outer wall surrounding the palace, feeling hemmed in and small.
“You’re all kind of obligated to hate me now. I’m a little surprised no one launched an attack in the room when I said it. The information fits, but, gods, Rolph. I loved her, at least as a friend, but even if I’m not good enough for anyone, that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. I didn’t expect her to like me back, but kill me? Why? She could have just walked away and had me giving her things for years if that’s what she wanted.” Tears ran down his cheeks, Rolph took his arm and walked him forward, his right hand pointed back at the luggage without him ever looking at it, then at the guest house with a small flip of the wrist.
“I know Tor. I really don’t get it either. I mean, I’ve known her all my life, we played together as little kids. She was the first girl I kissed, quite chastely by the way, and the first person that ever kicked my butt in a fight. We were four. Hair puller. But if I hadn’t had been in the room with you and someone told me she said those things, I’d have called them a liar to their face and probably called them out. This… It isn’t like her at all. I’m not defending her, I heard it, but it’s like she isn’t the same girl now or something.” Rolph got him inside and had him sit on a low bench just inside the door.
It was just a wooden thing, nice, but its sole purpose seemed to be giving people a place to sit if they needed to take off muddy or dusty shoes. Given that he’d yet to see it rain in the Capital he wondered if anyone here even knew what mud was. Well, the people in the potters distract, they’d know, but would anyone else?
“Yeah, well, it’s magic. An effect I seem to have on women. I guess I really need to just give up on the idea of ever being loved. Maybe those people in Galasia had it right all along? I’m a troll in disguise and too stupid to know it? I guess going off to live in a cave is fitting enough, I could work there, I suppose, and get things done uninterrupted. I don’t…” The tears still fell and he felt like he was a little kid crying because mommy had left on an errand. “I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Hey, you’re not alone, you’ve got me.” His friend smiled and patted him on the back gently.
“Thanks. I know. That’s… not what I meant.”
Rolph sighed hugely, actually blowing a breath of air out hard.
“I know. It… this won’t last forever you know. It’s not you, it’s just a string of bad luck. It could happen to anyone. Really, a lot of women here in the Capital are fond of you…”
Sure. That’s why they were all beating down his door. He didn’t even have any as friends, they just wanted to use him for some reason. Well, that’s how it felt at least. Maybe he should make it harder for them? After all, if he wasn’t getting anything out of the deal, why should they?
He asked Rolph what room he’d be staying in, which turned out to be the same one as last time. His trunks were already sitting there, even though he hadn’t seen anyone carry them past at all. He hadn’t seen anyone except for Rolph in fact. It was… eerie. Like ghosts had done it or something. Tor had never seen a ghost, but if anyplace was going to have some, it would be a place like this. Old and filled with history. It wasn’t spooky feeling at least.
Burks came and helped him get undressed, thankfully, and pulled back the pale blue covers for him, a thick light blue comforter now that the weather had begun to cool a little. It wasn’t cold by any means, but Tor wouldn’t feel the temperature anyway, not with all the amulets he wore to sleep with now. The heavy weight pressing down on him was comforting, like getting a hug. Except that the thick blanket didn’t care who he was, so he didn’t have to feel guilty about it or like it was just trying to use him for other purposes. What those purposes might be he couldn’t imagine anyway. Maybe to keep from having to be too close to the mattress? He’d have thought they’d be fast friends, but who knew?
Those things could be complicated.
Tor didn’t sleep well, but he made up for it by sleeping long. It was easily mid-morning when he climbed out of the soft cocoon he’d ended up making out of the blankets and sheets. He drank some water from the pitcher by his bed, then nearly panicked, realizing he hadn’t checked it for poison.
How the hell did people live like this? Tor didn’t know, but he didn’t want too.
His heart pounded in his chest even after he checked the water out carefully and found that it was fine. Closing his eyes he wondered if he should just leave, even if Rolph had asked him to stay personally. It would be a lot more comfortable if nothing else.
No, he had to see things through here. No matter what happened. He owed Rolph too much for having been his friend to abandon him now.
Burks entered the room, bringing in a fresh set of clothing, black silk that was loose fitting and had matching under things, also silk. There was a pair of soft sued boots in his size, dyed to match. Before he could change, the man went and began drawing him a bath. A subtle hint that he reeked? Probably. He smelled of smoke and tension if nothing else. He had to dig through the trunk to find one of the tub warming plates, most of which had disappeared “magically” in County Ross. He had a half dozen left at least. So fourteen gone? Well, hopefully people enjoyed their warm baths.
Burks had to run and get him some wire to fix it to the ceramic tub, but it worked well enough once in place. It even looked all right hanging there over the edge, the copper and green worked well with the very pale tan of the vessel itself. After a warm soak, Tor decided to get a little work done. The idea he’d had coming in to town wouldn’t take long, he knew.
Indeed he had it finished by dinner time. It wasn’t good not to eat like that, Burks told him as he roused and started making copies, wanting him to eat right then. Tor declined, trying to stay polite about the whole thing.
Dinner would be in a few hours anyway. It would be greedy to eat twice.
Rolph came for him, with Varley in tow, about half an hour before it was time to eat, just as Tor was about to try out the new device standing in the lawn. As they walked up he tapped the device and rose four inches in the air. Both of the royals stopped and gave him funny looks.
Like they weren’t used to him doing strange things?
“It’s for in town. See, this way I can zip around a lot faster than I can walk, or a carriage can go, but its way more controlled than flying, to prevent accidents. I can move around at walking speed easily and it only ever goes this high, so, it can’t really be called flying right?”
“Hmmm…” Rolph looked at him as if he were trying to break a rule, but Varley asked if she could try it with a sweet smile. Together they zoomed around the yard for a few minutes, then went in, still levitating about four inches off the smooth floor, but keeping their speeds reasonable. When Karina saw them she cried out.
“Ah! Something new!” She got the application immediately. More to the point, she really wanted to get some for her friends, to impress them. Tor nearly pointed out that a Princess worrying about impressing people seemed a little off, but held his tongue and asked how many she wanted instead. Varley winked at him behind her back. She was right of course, it was way easier to just give the girl what she desired without worrying about it. Now they just had to convince the King that it wasn’t flying. Tor thought his argument was sound, but he didn’t want to try and slip it past the King or anything. It really was way safer than flying though, and faster than walking, at least for him.
When Connie came in Varley handed her one of the devices to try out, since it really was a lot easier than flying because you didn’t have to worry about two of the directions at all, they all assured her. Plus afraid of heights or not, four inches wasn’t a big challenge. It took a while but the girls had her floating around the room laughing when Richard came in.
“And what, may I ask, is this?” He pointed at the air underneath everyone’s feet, the look he gave them kind of blank.
Tor cleared his throat, looking at the situation as a kind of moment of truth. The man either agreed with him on this one, or he’d wasted the afternoon.
“These are… Not-flyers. They don’t go any higher than this and um, aren’t flying? For getting around in town, without carriages or, um, any illegal flying type activity?” He tried his best to look confident, but guessed he failed when the King started chuckling.
“Alright, if it’s not flying, then my councilors can’t complain about me trying it, yes?”
They all floated around the room until the cook, the tall gray haired woman named Laura, walked in and ordered them to sit down and stop playing. Everyone laughed, but turned the devices off and got to eating. Connie whispered that Laura had worked at the palace since she was fifteen and had them all wrapped around her finger.
Tor could see why, after the way she pulled together the meal the night before. That was retulsive. A lot more impressive than the little toys he’d brought to dinner at least. Tor doubted that he could have pulled it off after losing half a meal like that. Not for hundreds of people on such short notice. The level of skill she’d shown was humbling.
The meal they enjoyed was a lot more relaxed, everyone seemed happier at least. Tor checked everything for poison, but no one blinked at all at that, they did it too. Given everything it wasn’t even a comment on them. He hoped that they all understood that at least. It was just that he hadn’t seen who came in contact with the food at every step. That meant he checked it. Possibly even if he had seen it the same thing would have happened. Tor didn’t want to be offensive, but he wanted to die a lot less.
Being poisoned freaking hurt.
The next day Rolph came and got him early, about eight in the morning. Tor had kind of planned to try another build, but the Prince had other ideas.
“I was thinking, um, if you’re willing, Sara came into town, and wants to meet with you. At Debri house today? I was thinking we could try out the Not-flyers, since dad’s all right with them. That surprised me, but apparently he just doesn’t want little kids being crippled by drunken morons. So we have license on these. If you’re not going to bankrupt Debri, you might want to let them in on the secret. Kind of cruel to let them drain everything to pay you, just because you forgot to fix what you set in motion then changed your mind about.”
That seemed reasonable, even though he didn’t really want to see Sara. She might have been innocent, or she might have been in on it all from the start. How was he supposed to know? Either way what she said would be about the same. That there was a rational reason for everything she’d done. Then he’d have to point out that her thinking he was a moron and trying to rob him was a reason too. It would just go around in circles unless he could trust her, which, honestly, he didn’t really.
Not right now.
Yes, he’d heard what she said at the restaurant and really, it hadn’t seemed bad or inconsistent with who she claimed to be, but that didn’t mean that she liked him or wanted to do anything but use him.
Still, he could let them know that they had a little more time, and maybe figure out where the golds were at the moment. He didn’t doubt that they could hide it all from him, but hey, at least he could try to not look like a complete push over. Even if he was.
Going by Not-flying was way faster than the oppressive carriages and while people stared at them no guards tried to tackle or even arrest them. That could have been because he was with the Prince. People seemed to actually know who he was in the Capital.
Then again, maybe they all just agreed that being that close to the ground just meant it wasn’t flying too? They moving along at twenty odd miles per hour probably didn’t hurt either. A person could catch them, if they were fast, but it would have taken work. Of course the top speed was actually nearly double that, but that was more dangerous to other people, so they went slow. The controls were similar to the flyers, but on the right hand like the original ones, since they weren’t meant for military use at all. Just getting around in the city. He’d done it that way as kind of a sign that they were a peaceful thing, but didn’t know if anyone else would be able to get that. It was a little abstract maybe.
Rolph looked odd, zipping along in his green silk shirt and black trousers, his legs not moving at all as they traveled. Less odd than he likely did, dressed in another all silk outfit, this one a powder blue that would have looked good on Trice. The color would go with her eyes, not matching them, but giving her a little bit of a softer look than the blacks she normally wore did. He found himself wondering if she’d like the Not-flyers… until he remembered. A sudden flash of rage and sadness moved through him then. It hurt. Like a physical pain coming from a place that didn’t exist within him properly.
He tried to shake it, putting his mind on the world around him instead. It really did make it easier after a few minutes. Tor even found that he could breathe again after a bit.
Debri house looked the same as the last time that he’d seen it, so they hadn’t been spending all the coin from the sales on renovations at least. Not on the outside of the house at any rate. Not that it mattered. Right now he just couldn’t bring himself to care about gold at all, and more than anything he wanted to turn around and leave, rather than face another uncomfortable situation. But he had to.
He couldn’t avoid this forever and they didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t like they were working with Trice to get him or something and short of that, well, wealth wasn’t that important really, was it? Tor tapped the amulet under his shirt, the one with a stylized sandal on it, to signify walking.
Well, it wasn’t walking either, but Tor thought it fit the “Not-flying” theme.
He stood back and let Rolph ring the bell, since for him to do it would have required him to stretch up on tippy-toe to grab the little pull chain or maybe jump a little. Rolph, taller now than he used to be, barely had to reach out straight. The implication being that if you weren’t tall enough to reach it, you better not? The idea that it may have been put up like that on purpose had never occurred to him before, and left him feeling a little cold. Was it a subtle way of telling him that he wasn’t important enough to work with at all? Or good enough?
The door opened quickly. A man just over six foot tall, about fifty years old and nearly as thin as Tor was after all his weight loss, asked them to come in, with a deep bow. Short or not, looking like a child or not, Tor got one too. Heather Debri stood in the hallway, Sara next to her, with a tall blond guy, Sara’s brother Kris, to the older woman’s right.
“Welcome Prince Alphonse, Master Builder Torrence Baker. Please, won’t you come in and have a seat? Perhaps refreshments?” Heather gestured towards the room to the right with a sweeping motion that was choppier than Tor remembered her being. He wondered if, in that room, they’d find assassins waiting or at least a tray of poisoned muffins. He walked in slowly and stopped in shock.
Two for two?
On the table was indeed a tray of muffins, poppy seed by the look of them. They smelled cold, so they were probably either made earlier or bought from a bakery. Warm product always filled a room with stronger scents. Sitting at the table behind them, in a slinky black dress that wouldn’t have been warm enough anymore up north at his old school, sat Trice.
Holding up one finger, Tor forestalled speech, then fished inside his shirt for the incredibly dangerous explosive device that was masquerading as a poison detector. He held it carefully and put his thumb on the activation sigil. It didn’t go off, because that would only happen if he intended it to. He smiled and then laughed slightly, a little bitterly.
“Right, so… if I trigger this device in here, shields or not, we all die. Well, probably. Anyone I point it at will certainly die instantly. Given that we’re inside the city, and this will probably take out half of it or more. I don’t think that any of us except Rolph would survive long, even if we lived through it, you know what I mean? The Royal Guard would probably kill anyone here just for being too close to it at the wrong time.” Tor gestured for the Debri family to move in front of him and put Rolph at his back. It wasn’t much protection for his friend, but it was all he could think of on short notice.
“I don’t know what your plan was today, but I don’t think it’s going to work very well. We’d come to tell you that you had more time, based on the idea that you weren’t really trying to rip me off and that it was all just a misunderstanding based on my incorrect hard feelings, and that you weren’t working with my enemies against me, but this… I think not. You have four hours to have every template I’ve made for you at the palace. I don’t care where they are. If they don’t show up, then I’m going to come looking for them.”
Laughing a bit harder, an unhappy forced sound he held up his left hand palm out towards Heather. “Yes, you’ve heard that I’m not a killer, maybe even that I’m weak and stupid enough to fall for anything. Possibly so, but know this, I may have been too dumb to require payment up front from people I thought of as friends, but for enemies the rules are a lot different. Four hours or I start finding every Debri property in the kingdom and destroying it. If you don’t think I can do it… Well, then you haven’t been paying attention at all, have you?” Tor looked around the room, trying to keep his face as still as possible.
“I’m starting here, so, you know, if you have anything you want to keep, you might want to hurry, or at least move things out in that time.”
He started to back out of the room, but Rolph blocked him slightly. He kept moving until his large friend got the idea. It looked clumsy as all get out, but it worked well enough. Tor wasn’t about to let two special school students have his back, even with a shield on. Just as he got to the door of the room, Trice called out.
“Tor… It… what I said, it wasn’t what you think! I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to make people think that I thought that, so that maybe whoever poisoned you would try to use me to kill you and we could catch them.”
Oh. Well. That made sense.
“Ah, I see! So you’d kill me, and then blame them for it? That’s… actually pretty clever. Or…” He tilted his head at her as if inviting comment.
“No! Just catch them, with you alive and well. I love you… I thought you knew that.” Her voice became soft, agonizingly alluring.
Too much so. If she’d just said the words, or sounded sad at the end, it might have had some effect on him, as it was he affected his own soft look.
“Oh? I… well, that makes everything different of course. How could I have been so silly and not realized that you were only playing make believe, saying those things to help me… Of course. It all makes sense now. You were just trying to get attention for your plan, to help me out and… probably help clear your parents as well? That’s understandable. Even sensible. I never thought they’d poisoned me anyway you know, no benefit in it. You just committed to your plan totally, because anything less would leave holes that the bad guys could see?” Tor tried to make himself sound like he actually believed the story. It was a credible job, particularly if she really thought he was as moronic as she’d said.
“Yes. Let’s put the past behind us and run off together to get married right now, we’ll do it today, so that no one can gainsay our love!” He nearly giggled when he said it. It sounded like something out of a bad romantic tale.
It was about that time that her eyes, looking a little hopefully into his own dropped down to notice that the explosive was pointed directly at her still.
“Um, Tor?” Moving just one finger she indicated the weapon with a weak smile.
“Oh that? Don’t worry about that. That’s just there because I may have to take out the side of the house here. You see, the problem with saying things like, “I could probably sleep with both of you in front of him and he’d still go on with the marriage because the ugly little troll can’t do any better and he’s so stupid.” Is that even dumb people stop trusting you. Makes it harder to fool them again I imagine. You might want to work on that one in the future. You know, with the next guy you jerk around like this.”
Rolph took another step back into the hall so Tor called out as he walked backwards carefully.
“Heather, I don’t want to be a dick about all of this, so that four hours will start from the time we leave, not when I first said it, so that’s what, an extra four minutes? I really also suggest that I don’t see any of you around for a while. I’ve not been in the best of moods lately and the facts add up to Trice here as being the likely culprit behind all the attempts on my life just a little too well right now for comfort. Really Trice, you could have just told me you didn’t like me you know. I wasn’t going to make you marry me or anything and I really tried to be a good friend to you.” He looked over at Sara. “Both of you. Why you couldn’t see that as more valuable than making me into an enemy I don’t know. Troll or not, I have feelings too, right? Heh, probably shouldn’t have said that, now you’ll go around claiming that I’m a troll for real. People would probably even buy it, in Galasia.”
He hit the Not-flyer amulet and floated down the hall backwards, the weapon in his left hand. It wasn’t like he had to be accurate with it or anything. If he triggered it they were all dead anyway. Rolph go the door for him and they both took off towards the palace.
Tor noticed that he was hyperventilating, his breathing shallow and rapid, his heart pounding and the explosive still being pointed as he traveled. He slipped the cord back over his head and tucked it away. Focusing for a few minutes he got himself under control and calmed down.
Rolph looked at him sideways as they traveled along, “You know Tor, you really have to stop doing that.”
“Um, which thing, or set of things, that I should stop, are you talking about?”
The Prince snorted and looked forward again.
“Let me count… First, standing in front of people outwardly calm when you’re clearly going into a combat rage. Do you have any idea how freaky it is to hear someone say “I may destroy half the city doing it” when they claim to be holding a super explosive weapon and are casting out a combat aura like that? I thought poor Kris was going to drop right there. I think the girls and Heather had shields on, but I was seeing spots even through mine.”
They continued on for a while without saying anything. He’d been showing signs of combat rage? Really? He’d certainly been worked up, but who wouldn’t be. The fact that he hadn’t hurt anyone and didn’t blast apart a big chunk of the Capital spoke against the idea, but then again, he’d certainly felt ready to die back there. Well, all he could do with that would be to keep trying to make sure he kept himself calm and in check.
“What if they’d attacked and called your bluff? Checking them for poison wouldn’t have really impressed them, I don’t think.”
“Bluff? Um, Rolph… Not to pretend to be all tough or anything, but… I never bluff. Probably not smart enough for it. I was holding exactly what I claimed I was.”
“Then,” The voice came out as a growl. “May I put forth that you need to find a more subtle weapon with which to threaten people in the future? Maybe fire raining down from the sky or the Earth opening to swallow them whole?”
It… was a good point. He had a force lance, but it wasn’t really good for more than knocking people out. On the good side it worked through most shields, on the bad side, Trice had one of the ones it didn’t work through. Tor had wanted to make sure she was protected so updated her almost instantly. Sara and Rolph had them too. Could he do something about that? The idea was… Well not impossible really. The fields wouldn’t be taken out of the metal easily at all. Really, the only sure way of removing one was to either lock the piece up and wait until the field failed, or melt the metal down. Even cutting it up might just make several copies of a field. It wasn’t that reliable, so it wasn’t generally done for duplication, but it could work, if a person was willing to risk losing the whole field.
But could they be suppressed? Maybe. He didn’t have a clue how. Why would he? In his whole life he’d never heard of anyone even wanting to shut a field off at a distance before.
What he could do was make a combination field that would be part force lance, part explosive field and part shield, so that the forces would be contained to one direction only. If he made it strong enough, it should suffice. He could limit the range, to say, a hundred feet? That way he’d be less likely to take out whole cities as he destroyed individual buildings or, and he really hoped it didn’t come to that, people. If it did though, better he get one person than a thousand, right?
Not that he’d have time to worry about that for a while. Debri would give back the templates, then they could work out how they were planning on giving over what money they owed for sales already made. Then they could call it even and he’d never have to see any of them again. It wasn’t ideal maybe, and he hated going back on a business deal, but they’d betrayed him. What was he supposed to do? Besides, the templates were his property, so he had a right to them, didn’t he? If they refused to pay him and wouldn’t give them back, that was just theft.
Inside the guest house Rolph suggested that he get a snack or something, some fruit or bread to take the edge off and then left to the palace. He didn’t say what it was that he had planned, but Tor figured it was something around the idea of reporting what had happened. It felt a little like he’d gone to tattle on him really, but it probably had to be done. After all, Tor fully intended on taking down the biggest merchant and manufacturing house in the Noram kingdom. Richard and Connie were probably going to have a problem with that. If nothing else it would affect the gear that the military was going to get. He wondered how many units that was supposed to be anyway. No one ever told him that kind of thing.
Sure enough, about twenty minutes later Connie, Rich and Smythe of Westend the military councilor came dashing into the guest house, well, it was more of a quick walk than a real dash, just on the edge of undignified, but not totally frantic. Rolph, he noticed, hadn’t come with them. Hopefully off doing something useful. Then again, since Sara was basically his girlfriend, he was probably trying to figure out a way to keep Tor from taking back all his stuff. He could see that, but Sara and her people had obviously decided they were on Trice’s side in all this. That kind of cut ties already, didn’t it? It wasn’t just him being unreasonable.
Was it?
“I’d feel worse about getting the templates back from Debri, you know, but they were a merchant house long before any of them met me and probably will be long after I’m dead and gone and it sounds like they’ve already made a lot of money without ever paying me a penny. Well, unless they don’t come up with my property, then things are going to get… interesting. But, they’ve decided to side with my enemies, so what else can be done? Say, anyone have a list of Debri locations for the kingdom? I mean I can just go town to town looking for them, but knowing where to go will really speed things up, don’t you think? I just want the templates back, I don’t need to trash every location they have to do it.” That was more reasonable than they deserved, but he could live with it.
The King held up his hands, a placating gesture. “Really Tor, won’t you reconsider? We’ve kind of set the military on a specific course for now, based on your shields and to a lesser extent the flying rigs. If you pull them from Debri now, it will set back manufacturing by months, maybe as much as four months or more. I’d take it as a personal favor.”
Taking a deep breath Tor tried to explain his thoughts on the matter. If they pulled the fields now, they could reestablish a more reliable contract with someone else inside four months, or they could wait for these people to kill him, or whatever their plan had been that day, and then nothing else would be forthcoming from him ever.
A lot of people could make copies from his templates, sure. They were designed to be easy to copy. A few people could even probably make new templates based on the originals given time. All they needed was someone that could make templates and copy fields. Most of the instructors at the school could do it, probably. Master Fines could for certain, Tor was sure. The man was good. But if they wanted his original work, that took having him around, didn’t it?
Smythe didn’t look convinced.
“Your majesties, I must submit that allowing a young man, no matter how accomplished, to run around with a weapon capable of destroying cities is… past ludicrous. Even insane doesn’t quite work here. He’s going to end up turning a single failed romance into the death of thousands or more if we aren’t careful. Worse, someone has already tried to kill him several times, of course he’ll react if it happens again. It’s only natural to respond when attacked. Put that together, and try to remember what you were like at that age sire. I don’t blame Tor but… How many would be dead right now if you’d wielded that kind of power at his age? Or if I had? I dare say the population of the world would be a good bit smaller right now.”
The guy was a pompous ass, Tor decided. He’d seemed nice enough the first time they’d met, but now he was talking about him like he wasn’t even in the room. Jerk. Then again, he’d made some valid points. Was he too emotionally unstable to wield a weapon like the one he had?
Yes.
He’d almost killed god knows how many people not two hours before, just because a girl that had said he was stupid and ugly was in the room with him. Then he’d started planning out weapons that almost had to be used to kill people if they were made, just because his feelings were hurt. Was that the person he’d pick to be in charge of a super weapon? Not a chance. He didn’t want to die, but it was a lot better that he got killed than thousands of others because he couldn’t find true love.
“First, Smythe, from now on, if you’re talking about me, and I’m in the room, please make an effort to include me in the conversation, all right? It’s a little rude otherwise and while you may feel like a high and mighty head of the military, you’re still also just a person like everyone else, no matter how lowly we are.” He reached in his shirt and sorted through the cluster of amulets there, all on plain brown hemp string. After fumbling for a few seconds Tor found the explosive weapon and pulled it off.
“Second, even though you’re being more than a little rude, you’re also right, more or less, so here. You keep it. It will probably last less than a year and it’s not a template, so if you want a copy you’ll have to get someone pretty good to do the work for you. Really, no call for it. I made it in a snit when my feelings were hurt and… you’re correct, I shouldn’t be the one in control of something like that right now. Um, I recommend you don’t try and use it on anything closer than a mile away for safety, and flying at the time would be a good idea unless you’re aiming at a mountain or something. Use it in here and I’m pretty sure the palace will be gone along with most of the city, so, do be careful.”
The man let out a gust of air and so did the King, Connie just smiled and gave him a little bow. What had they thought he was going to do, blow them all up? He chuckled, realizing that’s probably what they actually had been thinking. Silly. He’d have blown himself up too and he hadn’t even finished ruining Debri for the day or anything. He told them that, a little curtly.
The King shook his head slowly. “Still on that one then? Can’t reconsider at all? It may simply be that they know something you don’t, might it not? I know you to be a pretty reasonable person Tor, as the last minutes have no doubt shown us all. Maybe you should take a step back and investigate the matter first? We can tell Debri that I’ve, temporarily, asked you to do that, in order to save face, if you feel the need? You can always destroy them later after all.”
Tor shook his head and tried not to frown at the King. Obviously the man was right. It was moronic to go after Debri House over this. Who would do something like that? He was still just so angry about it all though. It wasn’t fair.
“I’ve swallowed bitterness time and time again in this and at each turn I’m met with another twist of the knife or drink of poison. Maybe it’s time someone else took the cup for a while? I don’t think I’ve actually earned any of this yet, not most of it at least. I didn’t do anything to Trice, I made no demands, and held no real expectations, but she dumped all over me behind my back, in public. I saw it once, but how many times had it happened before and after that? Ten? A hundred? Here at the palace you guys wouldn’t even let me in, even though it meant I had to wonder the city and get a job to put a roof over my head instead, which I probably wouldn’t have had to do if Sara Debri and her family hadn’t been withholding the gold that they owed me for some reason I’ve yet to really understand. I mean, I’m bad with money? How am I supposed to get good with it if I never have any? Sure, everyone claims to have a good reason, but none of them are verifiable at all. Has anyone else noticed that yet?”
He gestured at the three before him.
“Me being turned away at the gate… twice in a row. Paperwork mix ups? Seriously? Twice? It’s really hard to believe, and I only have your word for it. I mean, you’re the freaking King! If you tell the gate guard to lie about something like that, he will and probably claim it until his death, maybe even under torture. That doesn’t mean you did lie, I get that,” Tor paced a little, making everyone follow him with their eyes.
“But, think about it, everything is like that. Trice is claiming now that she had some plan to undermine me and tell everyone how awful I was to draw out the people that want to hurt me, but… notice, she didn’t come to me first with that plan, only nearly a week later, after she had a lot of time to think about it and make excuses. Like you had. Debri… They’ve had months. No, I have to make them see that they can’t push me around. Trice at least taught me that. It’s even fair really, they haven’t been paying me and withheld money on purpose already, no one does business with people like that, do they? If that makes thing hard for others for a little while, well, I’m sorry about that. I’ll try to make sure things get up and running as fast as possible, even if I have to do the work myself full time until things are going as far as the new manufacturing, but…”
Smythe turned towards him, having slipped on cream colored gloves that had bits of metal all over the palms, in an almost elegant fashion. It was kind of pretty, in a strange way.
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough.” The man said, stepping forward with a blank stare on his face. “Not good enough at all.”