The gate guard recognized him at least, though Tor still had to wait for someone to come and confirm it was him. It was a good safety procedure, he had to admit. What if he was just made up to look like Tor? It wouldn't be that hard to find a short man, or even a boy, with black hair and pale skin, and the guards probably didn't know him so well that something like that might not fool them. He'd worked with Debbie for three whole days and she hadn't gotten who he was immediately, so having him vetted just made sense.
Normally Varley had the job, and once or twice he'd seen Karina do it, but today Rolph came out, smiling.
“Tor! There you are. We've been expecting you for days now, ever since Varley got back. Come in, come in. Oh…” The gate guard hadn't moved out of the way.
“I confirm this is Master Tor, Torrance Baker. The Builder. Troll of Galasia and font of wonderfulness. Cutie of the masses and all around great guy.”
Laughing, the guard got out of the way. Royal Guards creeped Tor out sometimes. Most of the time if he was honest about it. They'd smile and laugh at a joke, sometimes even bad jokes and seemed to really mean it, but if Tor had moved to hit Rolph or even hug him too fast, the guard would have done everything he could to stop him, and barring being able to do that would have fought to the death so that the Prince could run away. If they weren't collectively the best fighters in the kingdom it was only because of the new group Kolb had started and that they were better armed. Well, really, that he'd had Kolb start. The point was that Tor really didn't want to have to fight them if he could help it. Then he didn't want to fight anyone, if it was at all possible.
They walked in chatting, Tor updating the Prince quickly as to what had happened, not leaving much out. He added the stuff with Trice, but left out that he knew she was faking it, in case of listeners. He did add that he was seeing Petra and Collette and that he'd be a little upset if Rolph stole them both away with his good looks and princely charms. Not that both weren't worth trying to steal, he added, trying to be playful, just that Rolph could get a lot of women if he wanted…
“Um, sure I can. All the serving girls from the palace that I want. Except that most of them are either way to old, or far too young for me. Or men, which isn't my thing, not mainly, though a few here are starting to look kind of cute… At least when I was at Wilderness Station I had Sara around. She won't even visit with me now you know, too worked up about you leaving. Thinks I made you leave, which isn't fair really. What was I supposed to do, order you to stay around a bunch of people you'd just been fighting with? You were fresh off a combat rage the day before, and already been fighting that day again, the whole thing could have gone lethal in an instant. Displace hundreds of people so that your bruised ego wouldn't hurt so much? I mean, you weren't wrong. It is your house and you still own it, but I couldn't order all those men, vital to the war effort, out into the wastelands to fend for themselves. Even if I did kind of want to at the time. Jerks.”
Looking around shiftily the Prince leaned in to him.
“If the guards here did that to me, I'd do the same thing… Only less effectively and probably end up dead, you know? Though part of that is that we have better quality guards here. Not just that I'm a wimp. Just so you understand of course.” Rolph gave him a half smile and tried to keep his face blank. It didn't really work too well and they both ended up chuckling a bit.
Ending up dead led to the topic of Smythe and how everyone wanted him for the investigation, which meant an audience with the King before Tor did anything, if only to buy him time to work his nerve up. Rolph didn't have to ask him what he meant by that at least. One of the benefits of being long term friends. They knew each other.
Before they went in to see the King, Tor dropped into a receptive state and held his focus as open as possible. It was… not a good thing to do, but he was getting tired of not knowing who to trust. The hard part would be keeping his reactions seeming normal and lively enough. Facial expressions became subdued in almost any trance state after all, body language too. Tor pulled his features into a small grin as he walked into the room, letting his smile grow larger when he saw the Queen, who looked at least as pretty as ever, even with her new short hair, that didn't really suit her at all.
Both of them were uneasy to see him, that was clear, it was also pretty easy to see that was about Varley and her being pregnant. Tor bowed a little to each, which he didn't normally do, but this wasn't a pleasure call, they needed to be alert to that or it would waste time. Tor wanted to waste time, true, but it wouldn't due to waste the King’s. He started right in, his breath catching as he did, trance state or not.
“The Wards think Smythe of Westend is their only hope, and when they heard he was left blind and crippled, they kind of gave up.” He sighed. “I need to talk to him I guess. I can't fix the hand, I could have at the time, but I was busy, you know? The eyes, well, I've done that. I think I can with him, if that's all right? He'll have to…” Tor shook his head, both the King and Queen was too surprised to speak.
They both thought he was going to call for his death.
That made Tor blink. He'd never thought to call for that at all. Would that have even worked? Not a real point now, was it?
“I don't know. Making him apologize means nothing. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't think it was important, right? But really, I don't want to die just yet, so if maybe he could lay off? I… fuck it.” Tor blinked realizing the language he'd just used in front of the Queen ducking his head he apologized.
“Sorry, I meant to say; fuck it, your majesties. Let my manners slip for a second there. Won't happen again.” The surprise got a chuckle from them both.
“I'll fix him if he wants it. We need to talk though, I guess, which I don't really want to do. The man hates me enough to want me dead after all. I have no idea how this conversations going to go. I think I'll leave him blind for it, so that I have a fighting chance if he freaks out on me. I guess I should get to that now?”
Rich looked at him and nodded, obviously feeling… proud? Of him? Why? Because he was willing to face his personal nightmare head on? No…
It was because he was letting go of the attempt on his life for the greater good. Heh, well, who wouldn't? No matter who you were, avoiding a war was worth more than your own safety, comfort, or even life. Even the Wards agreed with him on that score, how could he do less?
The feeling from Rolph was calm, and not at all surprised that Tor would do this. It was the kind of thing he expected from his friend. That made him smile a bit. Before he could ask for directions to where Smythe was staying Connie reluctantly raised her right hand a bit, then higher, trying to catch his attention, even though she really didn't want to say the words she had to, knowing it would hurt him more than a little. She projected this so loudly that Tor picked it up without half trying. So it was something she really thought of as important.
“There's been a change in plans regarding Varley's… and your engagement. It's nothing to do with you of course, but… well, we need to marry her to Count Peterson for political reasons… It's…”
He shrugged, which made her stop suddenly and stare.
“Because she's pregnant, it obviously isn't mine and you need a rather tall and dark skinned royal to fill in for the real father…” The pieces flowed together, the baby even felt like him, even though the idea nearly floored him. But an offer of a dalliance had been made, before the engagement, Varley had told him that the very first time they'd met to talk. At a public dinner no less, so it wasn't that secret or anything. She’d said that she'd refused, but royals lied. A lot. Like breathing for everyone else. Or maybe she'd just refused the last in a line of offers from the man? Ah… That could be it.
“Count Ward.” It wasn't a question, Tor knew it as much as he knew that the sun would rise in the morning or that, barring magic, things tended to fall down.
Well, freaking heck.
That got a reaction from the Prince, shock, surprise and rage. So he hadn't been in on it at least.
“What? He… he defiled my baby sister? I'll… I'll kill him!” He moved as if he was about to fly off to County Ward right then and there and do just that.
Tor put a hand out towards him and so did the Queen.
“She told you, did she?” The King said, not sounding overly amused, but not really angry. Not inside. He felt… worried.
The Queen’s eyes went huge, but she remained quiet and watched her son for signs of combat rage, which didn't happen. In a way, Rolph was within his brotherly rights by both Tor’s country logic and the rules of the nobles. Ward had no business doing anything with a Princess that could get her pregnant when he was already married. It was stupid and he should have known better. Even if he wanted to have her, he should have used precautions or not done it at all. How the man kept getting otherwise intelligent women pregnant Tor didn't know. If they were serving girls it would have been different. First Rolph's fiancee and then his little sister…
Oh.
Maria. How had she done it? Obviously by guiding her husband into things, that made sense. Tor explained the situation as gently as he could. It was… Insanely complex, but Maria had felt scorned by the Prince even though he hadn't done anything overly wrong by their rules, and humble apology to Tor or not, she'd never mentioned letting go of her personal campaign against Rolph. After all, he told them, in her mind the Prince was the evil Doretta and she was the noble Count Wylde, rising in power and coming to make him pay any way she could. She could never rise high enough to punish him directly though, could she? So she was using other means.
Gods it was convoluted.
The King saw it first. Somewhere inside he had more information than the rest of them did. Something Tor had said was incomplete, but it was close. Enough so that the man looked at the tiny builder in front of him with secret amazement. Tor nearly laughed when he realized that the man was wondering if Tor had a spy network in place.
Shaking his head he looked at the King directly and smiled. “No. I work with fields, with magic. Everything is made up of information, and I have to know how to read it, don't I? Any good builder can do it, but, well, I just started. Too much is happening and I'm too far out of my depth not to read people if I can.”
The Queen was puzzled and Rolph too angry to notice the words completely but Richard just let his eyes widen fractionally.
“I see.” Then the King’s mind went blank.
Tor bowed a little, and smiled. It was a good trick and one that he'd use himself if a similar situation ever came up. He looked at the Prince and bowed to him too, which got everyone’s attention.
“I'm not good at complex plotting and planning, but I think that you should send at least a letter to Maria and explain things, maybe apologize for hurting her feelings, even though it wasn't your intent? She got on her knees, in public, and begged my forgiveness for what she did, even nearly getting me killed. And I'm about to go and beg Smythe of Westend to let me heal him because the kingdom needs it, even if he'll probably kill me for leaving him crippled as soon as he can manage it. It seems like a good day for begging and groveling all around, doesn't it?”
Rolph raged inside for a full minute, for a second Tor thought he was really going to lose it and hit him, or try to at least, but he calmed and knelt instead after a while, bowing until his head touched the floor with a soft thunk.
“Then let me start here. I didn't know it at the time, but my actions set in motion very bad things for you. I should have realized it and made corrections, but I was too blind, too stupid to see it. I-”
“Oh get up. There's no debt's between friends and besides, if you could have taken any of what happened on yourself to spare me, I know you would have. Now let's get that apology out before Maria manages to get Karina and your mom pregnant too, shall we?”
Mirth flowed then, even though he hadn't meant it to be funny. Did they think that she couldn't do it? She was far more clever than Tor had thought and she'd been around him a lot over the last week, even though he'd kept his distance. After all, it wouldn't do to look like she was seducing him into finding in their favor. Especially since he was obviously already trying to do all he really could for them.
So, at that, the engagement to Varley was broken and he was, well, he wasn't alone was he? Tor still had friends and even a couple that were willing to sleep with him, for whatever reason. They didn't make him pay at least, which was a plus, if only for his ego. Petra had kind of put him off in regards to marriage, but seemed happy to be his girlfriend. That was good enough wasn't it? He was young and really, he wasn't going to get a lot older, one way or the other. Either someone would kill him or he just wouldn't age, like his uncle, grandfather and mom. What was his hurry? He wasn't alone now. It was an improvement for sure.
Looking a bit put out still, the Prince, his short hair still a dark brown, though a little red was showing and his skin still deeply colored too, but fading to his natural lighter tan color, stayed with his mother to craft the first apology. They all knew a single letter wouldn't be enough. Rolph jokingly wondered if sending his left testicle in a box would be enough, but the Queen, not laughing shook her head.
“Doubtful. Plus, that's the royal testicle, at least until you produce and heir and a spare. Groveling will have to do and I doubt you'll get off as easy as you did with Tor. Most people secretly like to see others humble themselves and will let it draw out. Might as well start now. The sooner you start the sooner you can get the taste of her boots off your tongue.” Her tone was dark, even though the words nearly made Tor laugh. Rolph did, if a little dryly, but then went to set up a writing station.
Richard led him to Smythe himself, who, attempted murderer or not wasn't locked in the dungeon, or even in an isolated hospital, just in his room. There was a Royal Guard on the door, who bowed to the King and eye-balled Tor, his hand going to his weapon in the little pocket on his side. It was just a force lance, the kind he'd designed when David Derring had been challenged to a duel to the death by a southern Count. It was a good and dependable model, better than most that the military had still. It also wouldn't do anything to Tor at all. Tor considered handing over his own weapon as a good faith gesture, then let that idea go. Not anymore. He wasn't going unarmed, especially into a room with Smythe in it.
The man sat in bed, a dun colored night shirt showing. He didn't do anything, no music played to entertain him and he didn't have a visitor to chat with or read to him. To his left was a pitcher with water in it and a cup, there was dampness on the table and the room smelled more than a little of urine. Either no one had been doing much for the man, or he hadn't let them.
“William? It's me, Richard.” The King’s voice was soft and nonthreatening.
“Good! Strangle me, or use a cutter, and take my head and we can be done with this farce, can't we? I tried for the boy and failed. He should have killed me, but didn't. Don't you see how dangerous he is? He knows he's so strong he doesn't even have to kill his enemies. The guard, Michel? He said that two days after the fight Tor just got up and wasn't even blind anymore! Already built himself a new shield and weapons from bits he took from the wall of the room itself. That was it, it was our best shot and I wasn't clever enough. I'm sorry, but I won't live like this anymore. I'm useless to the kingdom now. End it. Or damn it, give me a knife and I’ll do it.”
The words were strong, almost fierce, but there was despair and fear underneath. Fear of him. How the hell was he supposed to deal with that? The truth he supposed.
“Playing with you? Are you crazy, or just stupid? I nearly died at your hands! I didn't kill the military guys because they're not my enemies. You aren't my enemy… though it's incredibly hard to tell most of the time. Anyway, stop sulking and get back to work you lazy prick. Ward undeclared war and asked for an honest investigation of his claims of innocence in the poisonings and the Queen’s day attack, but no one thinks anyone can do it fairly but you. No one. So if you're willing to not be a spaz anymore, and are willing to start acting like everyone says you normally do around anyone but me, I'll fix your eyes for you. I can't regrow your hand. I tried with Trice… Patricia Morgan, but I'm working on a magical one for her and if it works, I should be able to make the same for you too. If not, well, freaking deal with it. You tried to kill me, which I assure you wasn't needed. I'm really nice! Just ask anyone that knows me. But I swear, if you try acting like I wronged you, I'm seriously going to punch you in the mouth, one hand or not.” Tor moved over to him and took off the healing amulet. The King gasped slightly when he saw it. Right, he hadn't seen any of the new work yet, it was kind of neat, if he did say so himself.
“Now, do you want to see again or not?”
To his credit, Smythe actually hesitated, wondering at the cost. Would it take money? His eternal allegiance? His betraying the kingdom?
“Nope. All I ask is that you judge me based on what I do, all of it, and not a few isolated events, or out of fear.” Tor had a thought and shrugged, even though the man couldn't see it.
“Tell me, how many men have you killed?” Tor asked abruptly.
“I don't know.” The answer was honest at least, if a bit confused. “Hundreds at least, maybe more. My actions and orders have lead to the deaths of thousands, certainly.” He said it blankly, without any hint of pride or remorse in the words.
“Right, and how many people have I killed?”
“I don't know that either. As many as you wanted to, I'd hazard.” The voice went slightly wry.
“Fine, if you want to look at it that way, I guess that's true. The answer is none. Zero. Even when attacked, injured, betrayed and in a combat rage. I'm simply just not a warrior, Smythe. I'm a builder and the son of a small village baker. You're trying to judge me like you would someone like… you. A warrior, maybe even a legendary one. I'm simply not that. I… don't think I could be. Oh, I could kill someone, once, I think, to protect someone innocent or maybe by accident and as odd as it sounds I can make weapons that kill people all day long and not even think about it overly, but you think I'm some big threat to the kingdom when I'm just not. My big go too move in a fight is running away for goodness sake!”
The amulet was turned on with a flicker of intent and dropped on the other mans chest. He gasped and writhed a little, but not in real pain. That looked different. The cloudy white eyes cleared and the old man sat straighter. Like with Trice the hand didn't come back, but the wound would be healed under the bandages. If he'd had joint problems that would be fixed now too. Everything pretty much. He held the stone for a long time, like all the old people had done, the occasional pop or crackle coming from his body, until finally he looked at the King and smiled.
“I… That's amazing. I can see. Nothing hurts anymore either.”
Richard didn't coddle the man now, laughing instead.
“Good, then get up, get a bath and start working. I expect a full investigation, as fair and impartial as always.” The King turned to look at the much younger builder.
“Tor, I'd like you to act as Smythe's assistant for this, as needed. Arrange for safe travel and do whatever else is required.” It was made as a request, but Tor saw the purpose, it was both to let the old military leader get used to him and to show that when given an order Tor obeyed, without question. Well, why not?
“Of course.” He said without hesitation. If nothing else it would let him keep tabs on the man for a while, though Tor decided to keep his shield on as much as possible, and carry an extra poison detector at all times.
Then they left the older man to get ready and pulled the guard off the door. If he was going to attack Tor again, well, he would. They needed him, so it was a risk one Torrance Baker just had to take. The King walked with him back towards the room they'd started in, his pace slowed so that the smaller man wouldn't have to run the whole way.
“Are you staying with us here?” He asked conversationally.
“No, I have a house outside the wall on the south side, where the temporary market set's up? It's right next to the new ice manufactory. Can't miss it. Also, Collette Coltress is staying there for now, since she's running the new business and Petra Ward is staying so that… Honestly, I think she just likes me. Or, well, she may be making sure I help her brother as I can too. Really, Smythe is our trump card there. I…” Tor stopped and looked at the giant royal, standing back to see his face.
“How do you all live like this? Everyone working for someone else like this I mean? Petra works for you and Kolb, but also her family, as would be expected of course and still seems to like me, for real I mean… I checked a few times. Collette is one of your spies, along with Trice, Sara Debri, and probably her mother at a guess. If you have them, you probably have her older brother too, Kris? Merchants at that level can go anywhere in the kingdom, so it makes sense…” The King went blank mentally again, but little bits of anxiety were leaking out, punctuated with words and ideas as Tor spoke. Something occurred to him and he laughed suddenly, making the King start a little.
“Oh… It was fast and brilliant work, I didn't even realize I was being played like that! Holly Printer foisted a spy on me I bet! Or tried to, Swarley Jones? Probably not a highly trained one, but yeah, I'd bet he's being paid to report on me. Stupid. Well, I apprenticed him to Kolb, so we need to get word out to him not to let anything slip. She could just ask if she wanted to know something… so it won't do her a lot of good. ”
“Yes, we caught on to that one. The one we nearly missed was Sorlee Farmer, that was a brilliant placement, don't you think? Crafted specifically to you even. A little farm girl forced to whore herself, from so near your own home village that only you could hope to understand her? She even fits the type of girl you like in looks. Then that thing with her family losing the farm? There's training there at least. She's good. I was considering trying to pick her up myself once her work with you is done. Or… You could work her into a civilian air transport service? That would put her all over the kingdom. Yes, we should make use of her if we can.”
The idea rankled. He'd helped her as best he could out of real kindness and even offered to keep her out of being a prostitute. Was everyone a freaking spy then? Who's was she, he wondered and then put it together. Who would want to keep an eye on him that knew him well enough to set up something like the deal with Sorlee? It was complex and targeted to him so perfectly…
“My mother?” He asked, his voice slightly awed and a bit annoyed.
“Ah, no Tor. She works for your sister, Tamerlane. She does seem to have a knack for it though. Count Thomson is marrying a real gem there. If I would have known more about her I would have arranged for her to meet Alphonse. Well, if Ursala Thorgood falls through for him you have some other sisters, don't you?”
Terlee? But… She was so shy that she could hardly talk to strangers! How did she, when did she… It didn't make sense. For a moment he wondered if the King was having him on, but the truth of it leaked out of the giant. His sister set a spy on him? That wasn't a new thing either, she'd been working on things like that for a while, hadn't she? Before he'd even known their family had noble connections at all.
“So, is anyone I know not a spy for someone? I mean a real spy. I always figured that Rolph would tell his parents and sisters about me, if you wanted to know, even before I knew who he was really, but that's just conversation, unless… does he have peepholes all over the place?” Tor mugged a little and glanced around The King started to pat him on the back but hit shield and pulled back nodding.
“No, the kids serve their own interests only. We talk, but they aren't used like that. I do worry about Karina and her friends, they have too much influence over her for any of us to feel good about I think. Also, Ursala Thorgood doesn't seem to have any interest than her own as far as my people can tell. Or spies on you. Gerald and Gemma are free agents too, so far, except what you know about them, Squires now and that, so they'll answer to their Knights. Let's see… your family? Most of Two Bends I'm sure, though we worked out a deal with a few people about twenty years back, to keep tabs on Laurie. The mayor there, Smith I think his name is? And the woman that runs the store, I can't recall her name off the top of my head. That's how I knew to send a scholarship your way. Best three hundred and seventy-five golds I've ever spent, getting you into school. As an investment it's paid off… I can't even calculate how many fold. Possibly the worth of the whole kingdom already. You didn't just save my family from death dust, but probably kept the whole realm together, the civil war that would have come after our deaths would have destroyed us for a long time.”
So, nearly everyone he knew was a spy? Ah. Tor walked away in a daze only to find the King standing in front of him suddenly. Those long legs let him move when he wanted to.
“Now don't be silly about this Tor. Almost everyone you know genuinely likes you. Especially the spies. They've witnessed your kindness, felt it themselves, and seen you reach out to help people, regardless of station, even when it's nearly killed you. Besides, it's a part of our life. If you're a noble, you have spies around you. The general rule is, well a little uncouth, but it's the way it's said,” The King didn't seem very embarrassed though he tried to act it. “Fuck the women all you can, and send the men to war. Though I hear the ladies version is different, with role reversal on the sex part and sending people on errands. Rather nicer actually, don't you think?”
Great, so what did he do now? Start asking everyone who they were watching him for? Did it really matter? God, he wasn't trained for this at all. Maybe he should really go live alone off in the woods? Either that or stop caring for people all together. That was stupid though. Spies or not, they were people, and as such deserved respect and care, even if it was hard to trust them now.
The first words out of his mouth when he got back to Rolph and Connie was a bit blurted and loud.
“Did you know that everyone we know practically is a spy?” He asked the room in general.
No one laughed, but Rolph did put down his pen and looked at him.
“Of course. Why do you think Sara was so eager to stay with us in the same building when we could have built her a place of her own in about an hour and a half? One a good bit nicer too? Running water and her own bath if she wanted? Keeping tabs. Ursa stayed with us because she was scared and figured that no one else could protect her half as well as you would. She's right of course. Shields she couldn't have gotten even on the black market yet, teaching her to fly and giving her a place to hole up that was pretty well impregnable. Plus, with everyone seeming to come after you it left the rest of us safer in a way. Why go after a mere Prince or Countess when there was that tempting Tor to try for?” He tilted his big giants head and nodded.
“More seriously though? Yeah, just about everyone. Really, I always figured you for a spy too, though mom and dad swear you aren't. Didn't stop us from being best friends, especially since I said and did things that I would have heard about if they were reported, that only you knew… When nothing came of it, I figured you were either a really smart spy, or one for someone else. Possible of course, though getting past Hardgrove would have been nearly impossible I think. But… you lost your accent so very fast. That part didn't seem very realistic.”
What? Tor thought that the other boy, a man now in truth, was kidding for a moment, but he wasn't, not at all. Him a spy? That was ridiculous. He wouldn't know where to begin, he came from a little backwater in the middle of the forest after all. One that… had spies. Even people that had watched him all his life. His face fell, did his friend still think that?
The Prince shrugged.
“I let the idea go after the thing with Maria. No one could fake being that hurt half so well and a spy wouldn't have cared that much. The job is always more important for them. Then how you avoided everyone for so long. Yeah, I got it eventually. But for the most part you can't bother to worry about it at our level. I just grew up knowing that everyone was watching me for someone. I guess that's harder for you to grasp? Don't worry, you really do get used to it. Just pick your real friends carefully and be polite to everyone else. Since you already do that, I just never really noticed I guess.”
Well.
Shrugging it off, if poorly, he invited them all out to see the ice castle and enjoy whatever festivities might have sprung up. That got the Queen’s attention and she looked wistful. It wasn't safe enough was it? She wanted someone to say it was, so Tor did, explaining how they should do it.
“Come in one of the transports, they're shielded, and wear your own shields. That will protect you from about anything but an Austran bombing run. Really, unless you advertise you're going a day in advance I doubt they'd get here in time. I don't want to oversell it though, it's probably just going to be a big pile of ice blocks. It's a warm day out, so people might be around to see it.”
They said they'd try to make it, if it could be arranged safely. Tor took that to mean “no” but didn't worry about it. Whatever happened they'd be sure to hear about it. All those spies after all…
The crowd wasn't small or even just healthy, but rather huge, outside the gate he could barely see his destination, so many tall people were in his way There was music of a dozen kinds, drink and food vendors had come so fast the event almost seemed planned. He floated through the crowd amazed at what had sprung up. There was a group of jugglers that were so good he tipped them a full gold coin, tossing it into the box they'd put out. He stared for their entire act, amazed and half wanted to stay and watch it again, but moved on, so someone else could have a turn watching as close as he'd gotten.
It took half an hour after that to work his way to the castle.
Not the ice castle, which was next to it, but the magic castle, easily as big as the palace itself, with a large stage out front that seemed to grow out of it somehow. The whole thing was a real castle of stone too, like the one in Printer, only way nicer. It was uniform in color, gray with bits of sparkling gold in it that made the whole thing shimmer, just a little. Petra was on the stage as a band played next to her, using the clothing device, changing her clothing nearly constantly, listening to suggestions called out from the audience, some were for simple, practical clothing items, boots and trousers in different colors, some, from a collection of noble women that had obviously been drinking a little, for more and more outrageous evening dresses.
“Silk and velvet in purple, poofy sleeves with a voluminous black shot skirt!” One of the women, who looked old enough to be embarrassed about yelling in public half screamed. Petra didn't even close her eyes to make it happen.
Then the woman next to her yelled for sparkles.
The whole crowed went silent at what she did next. It wasn't the light glint of crystal reflections that the noble lady had meant, but tiny purple, white and rose colored bits of light that came and went in a rapid pattern of small spirals and that clearly were outside of the material itself, by at least several inches. After ten seconds of this people started cheering loudly. Then, they also cheered for her in a simple black military uniform, fighter’s gear, which she hammed up with some really good mock fighting poses that anyone that was watching should have realized meant real skill. Workman's clothes, basically what Tor was wearing himself at the moment, done in a rainbow of shifting colors also got applause.
Finally, as almost had to happen, one drunk young man yelled out for her to take it all off. To Tor’s surprise, she covered her lower parts with a hand and threw an arm across her chest and affected a shocked look when she made the clothing disappear all together.
That was the most popular by far.
Then laughing she ran off the stage, still naked as a man came on, dressed in military gear, who demonstrated how to use a compressor rig to make focus stone items, he made a frame of dirt on the stage, Collette running over to make a box appear as if by magic on a table that was waist high on the guy, to a standing ovation, and then two more military men filled the box with dirt using earth moving rigs.
The audience called things out that the man made quickly and efficiently, including things like closing lid boxes with latches, bottles and simple statues of animals that were pretty good. Finally a woman that looked vaguely familiar for some reason asked loudly if he could make her a good man. Not waiting he threw himself into the audience and to everyone’s amusement started to walk off with her, holding hands. When he saw them together it clicked. She was one of the girls from the house at Wildlands Station. So the bit had been a set up? Very clever, the crowd had roared with laughter at the bit. Next a few fishing boats were put in the river and raced back and forth while people watched. That would be the last demonstration he guessed, but it wasn't.
Not at all.
Petra went back on the stage and made her top disappear again, not bothering to cover her breasts this time, which got loud hoots of appreciation from the audience. At first. Taking a knife she ran it across her stomach to the gasps and wincing of the watchers, then took up a healing amulet, one of the pretty glowing kind like he had on him, put it on and hit the sigil. The audience gasped. So did he. What kind of person made an eighteen inch long cut to amuse the public. Insane.
A line of people wanted to try it, so Petra, not bothering to put her top back on, walked around and let people hold it. It didn't regrow limbs, but one man that had a broken back as a child cried out as things shifted and popped and then stood up, if weakly. He was apparently well known, because people started screaming in glee. That part went on for a while, with a few people calling out that they were sending into the city for crippled or ill loved one.
Well, even after it was over, they could just knock on the door, right? That would be fine. Or send word of where the people were, if they couldn't be moved? It wasn't like it was work to hand them an amulet for a few minutes.
Then there were singers and players from the Capital, coming with their prepared works and jokes. It was, in general, the best festival he'd ever heard of, much less been to. Tor stopped and bought a sweet roll, which was good, so he got a full dozen and carried them on a wooden tray to the ice manufactory where all “his” people stood helping with ice sales. Petra had put a top on and put her equalizing amulet outside the clothing for all to see. It was a bright and happy yellow that changed to nearly pure pink when she saw him. A sign that she really liked him. That or she realized with that many rolls, he'd come to share. Either way she seemed happy. Collette too, though her amulet tinged with green occasionally, showing greed. Well, that was normal enough too.
They each took a roll and so did the military men, who all called him by name. These guys recognized him, of course… Then they were focus stone workers, not gate guards, so they wouldn't have been on duty anyway, no matter when he'd gotten there. Probably down on their off day. When he took a second roll, Tor checked it for poison, but found nothing again.
They were decent. Not enough cinnamon, but then different people had varied taste perception. He always liked spicier foods himself. The crowd looked up and pointed suddenly as a transport moved to land behind the castle. The ice castle, not the big one next to it and the whole royal family got out.
They waved to everyone and to a man, woman and with a little coaxing, child, everyone else moved back to let them walk around and watch the proceedings unimpeded. The audience bowed as one too, which was kind of impressive in its own way. After all, before the war this kind of thing was normal, wasn't it? People seemed heartened to see the King and Queen at least and began cheering, which got the royals to all go up on the stage, chairs appeared for them to sit in, nice soft ones that were purple and gold, the Cordes colors, gaining more applause and the whole show from earlier was repeated. This was on the left side of the stage, a liveried Royal Guard standing behind each of them, as if it was normal.
The guy making things with focus stone worked off to the side the whole time and presented the King with a statue that was bawdy enough that the audience hooted when Richard held it up for all to see, his eyes alight. It was a light tan color, but clearly showed a man and woman intertwined.
Tor recognized the work, if not the artist himself. Flynn. Then he made practical things again for the audience. Karina stared at Petra when she made her clothing change, fairly salivating. He'd have to give her one of the clothing devices before she left if he could. The Royal Guard might not want anyone that close to them of course. Tor couldn't see them, other than the ones on stage, but if the King was there, they were too. The Prince hooted as the boats raced, and said he wanted one, which got Petra to bring out hers and put it in the middle of the river. There was barely enough water to support it, but people gasped and stomped, which seemed a popular enough activity for the crowd. Stomping. Apparently clapping just wasn't enough for some things.
Tor went into the castle and tried to find his trunk, which was on the second level up a stone staircase, first door on the right. He had to track it by feeling for the variety of fields in it. A trick that worked pretty well he realized, as long as he wasn't too far away. The room was fantastic, it had a huge bed and was lined with silk and velvet. Smiling he realized a person almost couldn't find anything to touch that wasn't soft, or so smooth glass would have felt self-conscious about how course it was. He pulled some amulets to give away as gifts or prizes and went out on the stage itself to pass them to Petra, who seemed to be in charge, her eyes lit brightly as she held the pieces up by their cords.
“Contests!” She yelled in a booming voice, turning with a bow to the King and Queen, telling them they got to pick by tradition. If it wasn't the tradition in the Capital, no one found it amiss either. It seemed like something you'd have a King and Queen do, didn't it? Tor had brought out one of everything that had been demonstrated, except Petra's boat and Collette's house. He had the smaller versions of both though.
There was a foot race around the Capital with a prize for the first man, woman and child under twelve to finish, without shortcuts of course. The flying guard were out in force to check on that in their bright red and white uniforms.
It was a bit boring to watch for most people after the runners got around the first turn, so Tor bought up the food from all the stands and had it passed out for free, first come first serve. Same with the non-alcohol drinks and relenting when Rolph begged, some of those too. It cost nearly a hundred golds all told, but meant that kids, who never had a lot of coin, and poor people, got to have some too. Tor had to go in early to make things, as soon as the footrace finished. He waited but just to hand out the trinkets and explain how they worked. Casually he mentioned that things would be available for sale if anyone wanted them at Debbie's shop, next to the bakery, next to the Cartwright by the south wall. Oddly almost everyone knew where that was already.
He worked in focus stone and didn't sleep, making large batches of a hundred each. He created some unique things too, that weren't actually new, things like tubs and mirrors that just hung in the air, beds that could be set up anywhere and a few things that just looked pretty that he thought people might like as well as a bunch of more practical things. He had twelve hundred items all glowing and solid as far as the work went, though not on thread or leather thong. When he got to the shop, it was early, not bakery early, but only about twenty people were on the street. All of them were waiting in front of Debbie's.
People started to complain as he worked his way through to knock on the door. He had to do it persistently, until finally, eyes looking worried, his partner and boss opened the door and nearly yelp at him.
“You came! I was afraid you'd forget and I'd end up having to barricade the door and pretend not to be home. So what do you have?” She seemed both relieved and a little manic. Excited by the whole thing?
Tor hoped that was the case. He opened the bags and explained what it was he'd brought.
Enough that her eyes boggled by the end of his list. She couldn't handle both shops, so she very practically set Tor to baking, which he knew how to do well enough, having grown up in a bakery and all that. He finished the bread she'd started and, after confirming the idea with her, decided to make several large batches of festival hand pies, fruit and meat. Just in case anyone got hungry while shopping for items next door. When the door opened the shops both filled, at first the bakery did more business, until about noon when the royals started to make their appearances.
If the morning crowd had come to gawk, the afternoon was all about buying junk Tor had made and paying more for it than was really reasonable, but less than they expected, since Tor could do something about quantity where most other builders found that hard. That or they wanted to keep prices up. But Tor had to just shrug about that, after all, what was the point of keeping people from having your work?
The flow into the bakery was steady still, but now people came to watch the wealthy and influential, to see and be seen as well. A few kids from the area came in and a giant, fierce looking guard of a noble tried to run them off, even though they were clearly just locals, not thieves or even poor overly, just the kids of tradesmen. Tor looked at the man and asked him to leave his clientele alone, thank you very much. It was said with a grin, but the large fellow didn't seem to find it humorous at all.
The man bristled and said that they weren't buying anything, so pulling a silver from his pocket and tossing it in the till box, Tor asked the kids what they wanted. The man turned a beet red, but didn't ask them to leave again, even though they watched the wealthy lady shopping in her fine gown openly though the door. She was an older woman who looked kind of familiar. A Duchess, Tor knew that much since she'd been announced at a palace party once with her husband… It came to him just as she watched into the bakery door to collect her guards.
“Good afternoon Duchess Terrell.” Tor hoped that was right, he remembered it because it was his older brother’s name, nearly at least. It might be spelled differently. She spun and looked at him, them bowed, making her guard goggle a little.
“Master Tor… So unexpected to see you here. And being useful too?” She winked at him knowingly, though what she knew he couldn't guess and didn't really care. Did she think he was sleeping with Debbie? That was hardly a crime. She'd make a good wife even. Or mistress, though he wouldn't want to play with her.
She was his friend, but seemed too delicate for the whole noble have sex with everyone thing. Then again, what did he know? It was the Capital, so maybe that was her way too? The big drawback there is that he could imagine rolling over in bed one night and accidentally start thinking about Terlee, they looked too similar for comfort there, so… no. But it wasn't any flaw in her that prevented it. Any good man should be pleased to have her and any bad man would answer to him if he found out about it.
“I bought one of those magical clothing devices, they're all the rage right now you know. Now I just have to convince my husband that it's not a waste of money. A thousand gold, but…”
A… thousand?
Tor had to make himself not blanch.
“Well, what does a single dress cost, in Afrak gossamer silk like the one you wore to that party last year?”
“Oh a trifle, a few hundred gold, it's just doing it at once that will rankle him…”
Tor smiled and gave her a small bow.
“But you have all your clothing paid for the next three or four years, maybe longer. Plus shoes, swim wear, what have you, even heavy winter wear if you want to go north. So, as long as you use it, haven't you actually saved thousands of golds? Not that it matters of course, but it should make him happy once that's pointed out I think. He seemed like a practical fellow at least.” If dour and humorless meant practical. Still it was a real point, if the man cared to think about it.
She agreed, delighted, and asked if he'd be free for a dinner invitation soon, unfortunately he had to beg off.
“I'm being put in as Smythe of Westend's assistant for a while. Investigation coming up. I can't say much.” Really he didn't know what was common knowledge or not and figured that playing dumb couldn't really hurt.
“Smythe? Didn't you blind him and cut his hand off in a fight? Was that wrong then? Are you investigating the Wards now?” She looked interested leaning close to hear his answer.
“He can see now, I fixed that yesterday. The hands still gone, but we've worked out our difficulties I think. I guess Ward would be the most likely thing, but for all I know I'm going to be getting him drinks and cleaning his chamber for him. I think I recall him saying something about riding around the town on my shoulders twice a week, but that could have been someone else… Possibly a horse, but why would he name him after me?” It came out innocent sounding and deadpan, but the woman winked again.
“Well, it's good to see you aren't letting things go to your head. Keep that up.” The last was an order so he bowed and agreed to do everything in his power in that regard. The guard kept goggling, but the kids looked bored. After they left one of them that had long hair and could have been either a boy or girl asked if the man was very big.
“Smythe? He's good sized, about six-eight or so I think. Kind of muscular too. Why?”
“Oh, because it might be hard to carry someone that big around on your shoulders. You're kind of little.” She or he smiled at him innocently.
Tor shrugged and sighed.
“I know! That's what I told him, but he's very insistent. Picked out a saddle already and everything.” The little kids laughed, getting at least enough to know when a joke was told.
While they finished laughing a group of girls, mainly wearing boys clothing, trousers and such, a few in student browns, walked in. It took half a second for him to recognize Princess Karina Cordes in the midst of the group. She had shorter hair today than the day before, a real military bob not just shoulder length and as black as his own, no longer the dyed brown that was barely hiding her natural red on the stage. Her gaze caught his and she looked like a startled deer, eyes going huge and scared.
Was she not supposed to be out? He checked with his mind and found that she was at least wearing a shield and had both a force lance and a cutter on her, both good quality, though the force lance was getting old and wasn't up to par with the ones he made. He'd have to get her a better one. He just nodded.
“Welcome ladies, might I get something for you?” It was the same opening line everyone got, with changes only for gender or station. When in doubt, promote upward in social rank, except Karina didn't want to be recognized. She knew he did, but that didn't have to be acknowledged if she didn't want. Maybe she was just embarrassed that they knew each other?
She wore an old pair of worn student browns that had probably once belonged to the Prince. Well, good to get as much use out of things as possible, besides, they did blend pretty well. Everyone wore brown for school, so there were people walking around dressed like that at any festival and even more on the street. It was also a pretty common workman's color, so it would work that way too.
One of the other girls, taller than him, lean, short black hair and a patch over her right eye stared, looking almost angry. A wave of interest came off her though, and recognition.
“That's him, isn't it? Master Tor his own self. Here to serve us goodies and make the miraculous happen. Didn't expect that, now did we? Well your sleeping with him Kari, at least that's what you claimed, get him to fix my eye and you're the boss for the next year, everyone agreed?”
Everyone was, except Karina who suddenly looked miserable.