Tor hit the sigil hanging on the inside wall that changed the way the craft looked about a half mile from Warden, after conferring with Smythe on it. The white haired man didn’t smile or frown about it, he just nodded twice, agreeing with the timing.
Sorlee went slow, drifting low over the city while people pointed and looked up at them waving, and calling to them happily. So far this was the friendliest place he'd ever been, people smiled at you and said hello even if they didn't know you, and rarely fought with each other, at least in public. It happened, that was kind of natural, people being, well, people, but the feeling was one of happiness over all.
They settled in the spot that had held the demonstration magic house when he was last there, it having been taken down. The grass had suffered under it, but was starting to come back. The other place, where he'd been living, looked better already. Tor wondered if he should find a new place for his house here, so that the nice and well cared for lawn didn't suffer? Maybe there was a good space outside the city? After all, they didn't have a problem with flying here, since almost no one did it and there were fewer noble kids to race through the streets crippling children by bashing into them.
This time they were met by the Count, his wife, the Dowager Ward and Trice, who seemed happy enough at first, but let her face fall when she saw him. He scowled back angrily, then forced his face into an obviously fake smile. Sara saw all this and looked worried, which she honestly felt for some reason. He knew because he was holding her hand, and it tightened in his. Letting go he triggered his shield and looked at her smiling warmly until she did the same.
Smythe walked over to the Wards confidently in his gold and cream robes, and bowed deeply, holding it for a full ten seconds. Then as one the whole Ward family present bowed back. Trice didn't, but then neither her life, nor the life of her child was on the spot, was it? They probably would have openly groveled if it would help. Then again, maybe not. The nobles had a weird sense of pride about some things, even if it meant getting killed or going to war.
As Ursala had put it once, using colorful language, which she did on occasion when she was teaching him about sex, “a noble may suck a stable boys cock, or let him do them up the behind, but never bow to him”. It had sounded like an actual saying at the time, but since she had started doing some interesting things right on top of that, he hadn't questioned any of the implications. He'd just accepted that he was supposed to be the stable boy in the situation, after all, his place in society was a lot lower than hers.
Oddly the Wards all bowed to him too, so he returned it quickly. Had he messed up the timing? Was he supposed to bow to them first? Stupid bowing. He'd thought he was up on that, but new situations had different rules. Sara curtsied next to him, a strange cross legged bow that women used about half the time. She timed her actions to his, so she was claiming to be under his protection? Not the military leaders? Um… Well, he would protect her, if he could, spy or not. Sorlee had done the same behind him he thought, and held it until everyone else had stood up. When in doubt, keep bowing? Made a lot of sense to him.
That done Smythe took over. Fiercely.
“You asked for a fair and impartial investigation, and me by name. It will be delivered. I'd like to start the investigation now. Baker, you're with me. Bring any tools or skills you have that you think may be of use.” His tone was matter of fact. Not demanding, not mean. Count Ward stared at both of them uneasily and covertly glanced at the old warriors missing hand while Tor collected his trunks.
They set up in the cool room, though absolutely everyone there had an equalizer, including the servant that offered iced drinks. Tor accepted a cool water and seeing this, Smythe did the same then suffered to let Tor check it for poison. As an afterthought Tor went around the room checking all the others too, since no one had pulled out a poison detector at all. Oddly enough it seemed almost official, kind of like he and Smythe were saying that everyone in the room was under their protection.
That done, he got out his little kit of devices. Focus stone circles to record what was said, the Ward's new communication plate got attached to a low table, and some new amulets on flat glasslike disks with a glowing pink pattern on it. A stylized “T” with lines through it. It looked good on the white. Soft and friendly. He handed one to each of the Wards, the servants in the room and as an afterthought, to Trice, and asked them all to hit the sigil. They glowed a cheery golden yellow and cream in a nimbus around them, which covered a foot from their body in a light easily visible to all. It wasn't bright enough to read by, but in a very dark room you could navigate by it, and not hit the walls, so it was good enough. It looked a lot like Smythe robes, and that wasn't an accident, but no one else seemed to notice.
Well, as insults went it wasn't a very good one, was it?
Everyone seemed curious but Smythe silenced them with a glance, as if he knew exactly what was going on, being in on the plan himself. Tor suddenly felt cheap and mean for not having clued him in first. If he'd been rude to him before, and more than a bit cold… now the older councilor was all business, proper and working as if they were teammates, not mortal enemies. Suppressing a sigh Tor contacted the palace using the Warden communications device, the King's voice coming a few seconds later.
“This is King Richard Cordes. Are we to begin?”
Smythe stood and bowed to the plate, a useless, but respectful gesture, so Tor copied it. These were formal proceedings after all. Everyone else did too then. When they all stood, Tor got the speak-back started.
Looking around and knowing the King couldn't see what was going on, Tor started describing everything. His voice sounded very formal, even to his own ears, but decided to just go with it. Lives hung in the balance here after all. Formal would work.
“I have started a magical device that will allow everything said here to be repeated, exactly as said, later, on demand. In the room we have William Smythe of Westend, Count Marvin Ward, Countess Maria Ward, The counts mother Ellen Ward, Patricia Morgan,” He looked at the servants and asked for their names which he repeated clearly, including their titles, but after the names, just so everyone would know who was who. “As well as myself, Torrence Baker. On the communications device is Richard Cordes…”
Was there anyone else in the room with him? There was it seemed as voices spoke their names one by one so Tor repeated them, using their full names, with no titles, except for the accused and the witnesses.
“Constance Cordes, Veronica Cordes, Karina Cordes.” Rolph was off delivering plates already? Good. The faster they could chat with people without a visit, the better. He missed Ursala and keeping in touch with Holly might prevent accidental mayhem. Always a good thing.
Proper mayhem should be planned. Plus he should make a point of chatting with Mary Cannor if he got a chance. She was family after all. Really he should get one to Two Bends too.
“Each person to be question has been given a magical device which causes a gold and cream colored glow around them. This glow turns black if an untruth is told. Not simply a lie, but things remembered incorrectly or misstated as well, if it's within conscious or unconscious knowledge. I shall call out any changes as they may occur.”
Then he bowed to Smythe as if it were all planned and sat down, deciding not to speak unless asked, except to describe the scene in the room. The man was surprisingly polite and gentle, even when bluntly asking questions that would have made a dockside whore blush. Not really, Tor knew, but they were hard when you considered he was going after a Count.
“Count Ward… did you at any time order the death of any person.” Tor felt excited when the man simply said yes, but all of those people were criminals and pretty bad ones by the sound of it. They didn't generally kill over theft here, just used people as free labor until the dept was repaid. When the question was changed to ordering the specific poisoned royals to be killed, harmed or threatened, he said no confidently, but a black slash streaked across the gold and cream glow of the giant man.
It took a while to get it out of him, but he'd once ordered Count Derring threatened, with cause. It was years before and nothing came of it. He also hadn't gone after any Noram generals. When the question turned to Tor things changed. He didn't lie overtly, but he hedged several times, getting black streaks, if small ones. Smythe, for his part, was relentless.
“Tell me now, what are you hiding? Don't bother lying about it, that will just waste time.” The brown eyes stared at the larger man, pinning him without offering hostility.
“Alright… I didn't order it, not exactly, but I may have hinted that Tor should be taken care of after his intervention in the Ursala Thorgood matter. I was… angry. It was silly of me, but I felt embarrassed that such a tiny man could best me so easily in a fight. He didn't even have the grace to strike me down, just stood and let me exhaust myself as if I were a small child having a tantrum. I realized later that I was being a large child having a tantrum, but I was upset for a while.”
No flickers came then at all.
Each line of discussion went back to Laval, the strange black eyed man that had come with treats and gifts, flatteries and plans to help the Wards advance their status in the world. The man even hinted that Ward could be delivered the kingdom, though neither of them ever took that seriously.
“It was fun to dream though, wasn't it?” The Countess breathed gently.
Tor blinked.
It probably was at that, as long as you never had to actually do the job. Nothing the royal family had couldn't be bought with gold really, and they all worked hard, if in odd ways. Richard was always tired looking and Connie had to put up with some of the most annoying people in the kingdom with a smile… which included Tor on his off days. Not a job he'd ever want. Tor considered that for a moment and wondered how, being a Count and Countess, these two hadn't known that instinctively. Then maybe they really had on some level? Neither had triedfor the position, just dreamed about it. Probably only the fun parts too.
Maria's story of Laval was different, but she told it with a straight face unconcerned that her husband sat right next to her listening. They held hands to comfort each other even. It was a bizarre relationship to Tor, but if it worked for them, who was he to judge? Maybe he should take notes instead of acting like mayor Tom was going to walk up and start scolding people? Maria was his age and had been happily married for years, where he'd been alone and lonely most of that time. Maybe his way wasn't working?
“Oh yes, we were lovers almost from the start. He asked if we could be and I saw no harm in it, he had those lovely eyes after all, and was good enough looking. In bed he was… charming. Skilled, certainly, but the flattery he used was so over the top… but it always felt like he meant it. He called me his little kitten-flower, and smothered me with kisses. Then we'd talk for hours, mainly about my life, growing up, the people I knew. He never said much about himself, just that he wanted to know more about me. It was… flattering.” The Countess went on for a while about what they spoke of, most of it innocent really, what foods were in season and what music they liked.
And Tor.
“Oh, yes, he was obsessed with him. Even before we knew he was “the Tor”. When he was just some boy from school that had tried to give me flowers that were too grand for a student to purchase, making me think that the Prince had put him up to it. How I hurt so much over it, and how I couldn't do anything to hurt Alphonse back at all. So he said he'd look into it and came back telling me how the best way to get at Alphonse indirectly was to strike at those close to him. Get the girls pregnant and kill his best friend in the whole world. Torrance Baker. He had this powder that he claimed would remove most kinds of birth control, so that part was easy. Marvin just had to put it on his lips and then kiss the girl. If she slept with anyone for weeks after she just wouldn't have protection at all.”
It was consistent and her story stayed so as she spoke the whole time, pointing at Laval pretty clearly. He was distinctive sounding. Except that Tor had seen six of the man once, and heard there was a seventh he'd just missed noticing, being busy at the time.
Clones. Some magic that made exact duplicates? Tor hadn't been clear on that when his grandfather tried to explain it. Burks claimed it wasn't magic, but what else could do that? The cream and goldenrod aura stayed that way until Maria described her apology to Tor.
“I really meant it.” She said simply, but the whole field went jet black. Sighing she explained without needing to be told too. At least the learning curve on these particular devices was quick.
“I wanted to mean it. I do know I was wrong, treating him so poorly and then lying about him to make trouble. It was evil of me, and I deserve to be punished, but, each time I think about it, I come back to that flower arrangement.” The light stayed clear and bright as she said all this, not even a flicker.
“It must have cost in golds. No one of his station could have afforded something like that. Not the station I thought he was at the time at least. It had to be sent for from the Capital, maybe even had the Queen’s own lady brought to town to do it herself! The base glistened like gold, covered in silk, a woven basket of it the like of which I've never seen since, and I've looked, the flowers perfect and tied with wound stems instead of string, so that it wouldn't show… And it was huge, it must have fifty different kinds of wildflower in it, with dried flowers and herbs to scent it. It smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, just enough to tell it was there. Given where we were, I knew instantly it was a brush off from the Prince, sending in a pretty distraction. I thought he loved me. He'd said so.”
Well, she believed it all and nothing hinted at a lie. Rolph was a cad. Well, he'd be hearing about this.
Tor grimaced.
“Let it be known that the statement isn't a lie.” Tor announced to the communications device, a small murmur coming from the other end, mainly female sounds of questioning, Tor thought.
Smythe looked at him and asked if Tor would clarify where the flower arrangement had come from. It didn't seem relevant to him, but he shrugged and picked up a truth medallion himself. If other people had to, so should he, right? Smythe raised his eyebrows, but nodded as if it were only proper.
“Um, well. I made it.” Maria looked shocked, and watched him closely. After about five seconds she seemed frightened, as the light didn't change.
“The gold ribbon was some stuff that Rolph, um Alphonse Cordes, had from a present his mother had sent him, part of the wrapping, he let me have it, since he was just going to toss it out anyway. So I spent a few weeks in the basket shop in town in my free time, trying to figure out how it could be done. That one was the fourth attempt. I'd seen Maria in class and hadn't had the nerve to talk to her at that point, so I had time. I still had a very strong accent then and figured a bumpkin shouldn't approach a fine lady like her, but… Alphonse said that if I liked a girl, I wouldn't profit by not telling her either, so I worked on it while I got up my courage and learned to speak properly. I'd never asked a girl on a date before.” Everyone watched him, waiting for more so he continued.
“I'd picked some of the flowers early and dried them in my dorm room, hanging up, because I was told that the good arrangements had them. I found some wild herbs in the woods, but they didn't keep their scent well, so I spent most of my money on a tiny vial of cinnamon, and when I told the lady at the store my plan she let me have a vial of vanilla too, in return for sweeping and scrubbing her store twice a day for two weeks. Then I collected most the fresh flowers that day, since I was off classes anyway and put it all together. That's all.”
It was what had happened, so nothing flickered. It had been silly of him, of course. He should have known before he walked up to her that he wasn't enough, that she was too good for someone like him. Then she didn't just refuse him, she made sure he knew all the reasons why he was bad and no one would ever love him. It kind of made sense at the time. Tor wasn't good enough, his stupid flowers weren't good enough, and he should die.
He'd felt like doing just for a long time. It was part of the case, so he spoke all of it out loud, trying to keep his voice clear and crisp. People would need to know he wasn’t lying about anything after all. Even if it hurt to say. It came out a little coldly. To his ears at least.
No one bothered to look at him when he was done, ignoring his own discomfort, or possibly just not wanting to be asked if they thought it was how things really were and have to lie to comfort him like people sometimes did out of friendship or common courtesy. Trice didn't even bother with one of her mock glares. She just looked at Maria.
Putting down the amulet and turning it off, his light went out.
There was sobbing, gentle but loud enough to hear, coming over the communications device. What that was about Tor didn't really know. It sounded like more than one person. Varley and Connie? Too hard to tell for certain.
Smythe gave him a moment to make sure he wasn't going to lose it and cry himself, but that wouldn't happen, he'd live it for years, he was ready right then to keep going he assured them all, his voice no more than a little flat and cold. Maria, coached by Smythe kept on with her tale from that point.
“So I took the flowers, too… um… rich for an obviously poor boy and threw them at him, then I called him every name I could think of. In rage, but..”
Laval it turned out was fascinated with that event, talking about it often, painting Tor as the true villain of the story, possibly influencing the Prince against her, so that he could capture her heart for himself, but when that failed, he lay in wait, plotting against her. Tor listened but almost laughed. Him? Plot? What could he have plotted. More… why?
Ellen Ward finally looked at him and nodded slowly, telling him something with her eyes he didn't understand. Oh, well, old issues being brought up or not, he was here to work, to stop a war and find the truth. They looked pretty innocent so far. The grilling got more intense for the next hour, with broader questions being asked. It turned out that Martya was a spy, placed by the Wards to watch him and get secrets out of him that might help them in their case. Or had been one.
“That lasted all of a day though. The next evening she came and gave my money back, ten gold solid, and told me she wasn't whoring for anyone anymore and that I could shove my gold up my behind. Actually she said ass.” The large Count said it with a smile and head shake. “It's that ice business of hers. She makes three times that on a slow day and that's just her share. I'd have moved her off the lawn for spite, but her business is a public service, isn't it? It would cheat my people to send her off to a less easily reached location. Besides, it's a handy thing to have close.” The large Count may have been thwarted, but he smiled about it, as if it were a grand joke. Or maybe that he was proud of a girl that he'd seen around most of her life rising in the world?
Then, they'd probably been lovers at some point too. It could have been something more than simple pride. Tor didn't check. It wasn't his business to know all about everyone around him. It felt like cheating somehow. Dirty.
Then everyone else was questioned about their involvement, just as hard, the servants asked mainly about Laval, after clearing themselves. They all had bits of information to share, things the man had said to them, what he liked to eat and who they'd seen him with. Ellen cleared her name in minutes, simply starting a litany that covered all questions asked before. Smythe smiled and gave her a seated bow, declaring her no longer a suspect without asking a single additional question. Not that Tor had doubted that for a second. Really, he hadn't even considered it a possibility. Probably why Smythe was in charge.
Trice…
Her story was different than any Tor had ever heard. She was, off and on, Maria's girlfriend, not just lover and had been involved, briefly, with the Count, but focused a lot more on the Countess. No one cared, not any of the royals. A spike of envy washed through Tor when he heard. But she wasn't his and hadn't ever really been, had she? His jealousy was irrelevant anyway, so he tried to let it go. Laval, however, had paid a lot of attention to her for a long while.
“He played me like a violin. I thought he was trying to get information about the Wards, or maybe for them, but now… yes, it always did come back to Tor. It was like…” Her eyes went blank as she sat still suddenly, a memory trance.
Smythe started to ask her to continue, but Tor held out a hand and shook his head a little. The older man tilted his head, but she didn't take twenty minutes or anything thankfully.
“He kept talking about him in terms of the unknown and the unknowable. He never really explained what it meant. It was a real thing to him though. I'd kind of figured he was obsessed with Maria, so wanted to do things to get her attention when I figured out the Tor part, but with all of them at Queen’s day…”
Yeah, that was kind of telling. The Wards didn't have that kind of clout. No one did, except the Austrans. Even the King of Noram couldn't bring seven identical assassins into play. But why would an Austran agent want to hurt or kill Tor overly? He wasn't a threat to them, not personally. Heck if there was no war, Tor wouldn't even know that the place existed hardly. Especially back then. He would have been a schoolboy. He'd still be one, maybe. Then, he hadn't left school over that, he gone away because of Trice. Still those things were related. What would have really happened if he'd never been poisoned?
She talked for a while, until things started going black with almost every statement. The field wouldn't allow it.
Heh. Right. Spy.
The King ordered the room cleared, claiming that this may be concerning things that verged on sensitive royal family matters. The room was emptied, except for Smythe, Trice, and one very confused little builder. Why hadn't he been kicked out?
“Answer honestly now Patricia.” The King told her, sounding amused.
“Uncle Richard, Tor is still here…” She was so uncertain she shook. Or maybe it was fear?
The King asked if Tor had one of the silence bubbles, which he did, about a hundred of them in the case next to him against the wall. It wasn't the work one for the investigation, just the stuff to go to the merchants in Printer that carried his devices. Secrecy really hadn't seemed an issue for an investigation. Having them made him look prepared though, didn't it? Once he had it down on the central table the King started talking again as if certain it would work. It did, but it hadn't been a sure thing. Well it was private now, spies or not. Kind of.
“I know Patricia. Once builders reach a certain level, it becomes hard to keep things from them and generally a bad plan in this case. He's already figured out half the spy network and I'd guess the other half won't take him much longer to work out now that he knows it's a possibility. From now on well just send people with a letter I guess. “Dear Tor, We've sent this girl to spy one you, have fun, love Rich.” Think that will work? Plus, he keeps doing such surprising things with all the ones sent at him. They keep ending up wealthy and well positioned. At least half a dozen haven't lasted more than a month in his presence, going off to a new job and life so quickly some here have wondered if it was on purpose.” The voice sounded questing.
Instead of answering, Tor just spoke, keeping his voice bland.
“We were about to question the witness?”
The tale was twisted, involved him and a lot of things she'd said to other people, some of them she meant, some lies to get people to think she was on their side. It was why she'd baited him when they last met and why she had glared at him earlier, though Trice did say it hurt when he'd stormed away like he had, because she knew he didn't have the information to understand.
Tor shrugged.
“I was acting. I'd kind of figured out what you had to be doing. You're not that mopey by nature, and if you felt that bad for real it wouldn't have been an attack, but tears and asking me to fix it. That or just telling me too. You can be a little entitled, you know? Anyway, if I get the time, I think I'm ready to try, the first version at least.”
“A magic arm?” Her voice was so skeptical it made Tor blush a little.
“Yes,” he told her gently. It may not be much, but it would be at least a little better than a metal hook. Maybe. If they got lucky. There was laughter at this, from him, but not from her, she looked determined.
“OK. I'll give you a month, but it better be special, a hook that glows or sparkles at least.” Now her voice sounded playful again, which sounded a lot more like the real her.
He could do that. Make it glow on command, or sparkle. Check.
There was a lot of anger in her directed at him too, which kind of seemed wrong. She was being honest, but it hurt to hear some of the things she thought.
Why hadn't he saved her arm instead of letting Karina chop it off? She knew for a fact that he couldn't have, and that Tor didn't even know to try, but he'd stopped the death dust in the air, couldn't he have stopped it on her hand? Karina caught some flak too. Trice was afraid of her now. Having nightmares about her coming to kill her in the dark, or take the remaining limbs. Cold sweats and panic attacks when she had to be around her for too long. That got an honest if hung-over gasp from the Princess on the other end of the communication device.
Who wouldn't be scared though? He was a little afraid of Varley and all she'd done was try to make her breaking up with him not hurt so bad. At least he thought that was her reason for doing what she had in the palace hallway.
When Smythe was satisfied, which took about a half hour of Tor bashing, most of it a lot less reasonable than him failing to save her arm, including for some reason a list of his faults, some of which he always took for virtues, like being focused on the task at hand, or being generous. She kept talking until Smythe, looking sidelong at Tor’s discomfort stopped her.
“So you truly dislike the boy? Tor here I mean?” At least the old guy didn't seem to be taking personal pleasure in it, but he did give Tor a funny look, as if wondering what he'd do about it maybe?
“What? No! I love him. I may whine about him sometimes, but that's just me being bitchy. It's my problem not his.” That, it was clear from the device making her glow so purely, was also true.
Tor had to duck his head, because he just didn't understand her at all. Was he awful or not? She wasn't lying, but it was too complex to understand. She'd said a lot of mean things about him, but loved him? He didn't talk, not knowing if that would be good or bad at all. Plus, there was the whole thing were she'd been ordered to watch him along with Sara, before he'd even known they were there. Months before. That part was just freaky.
Why watch him at all?
It was late luncheon by the time things broke up, but in all Smythe of Westend felt comfortable that the Wards did not order an attack on anyone, except Torrence Baker. That was almost funny, except that one way or another a lot of people had done that. Some more so than others but… Yeah, no doubt everyone here agreed that hurting him didn't really count. They were all royals after all and he was just… him.
As if to make a point of it no one else mentioned it again either. It should have made him mad, but it was just what was. If he wanted a fair world he'd have to make one, wouldn't he. Could he do that? Well, not from whole cloth, but remake the world into a better place? Um…
No.
Not the world. That would be too much. He might be able to help a few people over time, if he tried hard enough. That he could do. It was enough. It had to be, since it was all that Tor could realistically manage. It would do. If you can't be loved, don't let that stop you from loving others. He nodded a little to himself.
Another party was planned for that evening, since they were all suddenly free of suspicion, no one was planning a war, except against Austra, and everyone was relieved and happy about things. Tor felt down, but didn't want to drag anyone with him, so went to set up his house in the giant park out front, no bigger this time, but one of the new ones, so he could play around with decorating and making the outside look festive. This time it had three stories, so it did have more space really and he made the bottom one open except for strong, arched supports and central columns so that it looked like it would support weight easily and filled it with six giant tubs filled with water for people to play in, each one large enough for eight at a time easily. The baths all looked like gray stone, as if carved out of rock and the top looked like a mountain with widows on all sides. The inside of the space looked normal but in a dark green, to fit the park. The front lawn, Tor remembered looking around. That only killed about an hour, so he decided to work up something to help entertain people later. Why not, right? Besides he had an idea that he needed to check into.
He could do both at once. That was efficient even.
It took three hours even in the deep trance he was trying to use more often now, to get ready for the build on Trice’s arm. If he failed she'd probably hate him for real. Possibly forever. Who could blame her? If he'd been better, a true Master Builder, he would have stopped all the death dust in the area instantly, not just what he saw. It wouldn't have taken that much more if he would have thought to sense the nanos themselves, not just go after what was visible. He could do it now even.
Tor could have done it then.
Except he'd panicked, not knowing how to handle the situation, and just froze the stuff already in the air. God he sucked. Trice should hate him. She was right, and his personal failure had cost her arm.
The device was about as big as his fist and had a dozen sigils on it. He didn't know if it would be very partyish, it was more of a festival thing, but he hoped someone would at least like part of it. It was multifaceted and built to be fun, if a little more adult than he'd planned originally. Not too bad he hoped. People would think he was perverted or something if he'd overdone it. Then again, here in Ward they may not think anything of it at all.
The dinner was a whole roast pig, which looked incredible and had been cooking anyway, since it took a long time to cook that much meat. Over a day. They did it in pits they dug, which was a fascinating idea, one using layers of hot coals and earth to hold the heat for slow roasting, actually burying the animal. There were side dishes too, but it was too much work to care about them, he ate small portions and finished it all, but didn't get greedy.
Tor sat at a little table again, though Smythe of Westend had apparently found enough favor to make it to the big table up front. Trice sat next to him and he was between her and Maria, who kept touching his arm gently, as if concerned about his hand. The one mean old Tor took from him. Tor forced a smile to his face.
It had been a good day’s work and the Wards should be grateful to the older man. If Tor had proclaimed them innocent no one would have believed it at all. Trice looked at him occasionally and gave him dirty looks, so he just stopped making eye contact, the game of being a villain so that people would do whatever it was she hoped they would, wasn't as interesting at the moment for some reason.
If she wanted to play her little spy games she could do it without him.
Besides, they'd cleared the Wards on that, and unless the Larval were working with someone else that hated Tor, the situation looked pretty much wrapped up. Trice was probably just being thorough, which normally would have been a good thing, but feeling a bit down like he was, it seemed over the top at the moment.
People saw the pools and figured them out fast enough, just stripping out of their clothing and keeping the water cool to the touch, but nowhere near cold. They soaked and splashed, played and sometimes did things that got raunchy comments and laughter from the people around them. It seemed like fun, but it just left him feeling lonely and out of place.
Did he know anyone that wasn't spying on him for some reason? Or at least that didn't have someone else doing it? Even his own family was doing it. That people watched him, Tor didn't care about much, except when he was doing private things, then it mattered, of course, but that people would lie to him just to do it was… horrible.
Had he ever had a real friend or a girl that liked him just for him, not because she had orders to pretend to? Or, and the idea hit Tor hard, was he making too much of everything? Inside a single year he went from being a guy women didn't talk to in more than passing to someone other people sent women after, at least occasionally. That was better wasn't it? Some of those girls even seemed fond of him at times. That was way better than old Tor the troll had ever expected. OK, it wasn't the perfect undying love of a story book, but what was? Maybe he should stop whining, and do things instead? Try to do something fun and actually meet someone he could talk to for instance.
Tor decided he'd ask the next girl or woman that came by to dance.
No matter who it was.
With an opening like that he half expected the universe to aim Ellen Ward at him, or a tottering grandmother in her dotage. Well, so be it. If they said yes, it was better than sitting alone. Ellen wouldn't even be that bad except she was about two feet taller than he was, so it would look like she was dancing with a tiny child.
The girl that came by wasn't anyone he knew at all and wasn't even a giant.
She looked at the dance floor wistfully, but no one seemed to be interested in her. She was average looking. Pleasantly normal, Tor thought, her nose almost hooked downward a little and her face was perfectly oval. That part was interesting, the shape of her face, very symmetrically balanced, making an almost perfect arc from forehead to chin. Close enough he couldn't tell the difference. She was short for the crowd, still taller than him, but only a few inches, five-seven maybe, which would make dancing more fun. Screwing up his courage Tor decided to just jump in, expecting her to tell him that she was waiting for someone else, or maybe that she didn't dance.
“Hi!” It was a bright word and a little loud, causing her to jump and look at him like he wanted to sell her something. She reformed her face politely, a small smile on her lips and ducked her head just a little. A shy move that Tor understood instantly.
This wasn't someone that was used to being approached overly.
“Would you like to dance?”
The smile reached her eyes and she nodded, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor by the hand. That's what people in Ward did, even if they didn't know each other. The person asking took the other persons hand and led them to the floor. At least everyone had done that with him so far. The woman, she was at least in her late twenties, danced horribly. Tor wasn't that good either, so they laughed as they flopped around trying to copy what other people were doing. It was fun. Plus, being together is looked like they were doing it on purpose, which made it seem merely unique, rather than awkward.
When the song ended she looked down, her face falling a bit, so Tor asked if she wanted to keep going. By the sixth song they were doing better. Not much, but enough. They never touched, but when a slower song played Tor looked around and turned off his shield with a flickering thought, using intent rather than a tap on the amulet. Sure, someone would probably attack him now, but if he didn't try to live at all, what was the purpose of existing? She took his hand in hers when he offered it and moved close enough for him to smell her, after looking down a bit shyly, she pressed up against him lightly. It was nervous, tentative and not seductive at all, but felt more real than most of the situations he'd been in with women so far.
The next song was faster so he re-shielded and danced with decent energy. After that it was time to get a drink, Tor figured, not that thirst was an issue for him, but she looked a little warm from all the physical activity. He had fruit juice, pineapple-coconut, which was his favorite here, probably his favorite over all, next to apple pear blend. That was about the best thing ever, when it wasn't poisoned. He got a drink that had a lot of crushed ice, some red juice and alcohol for his new friend, because she asked, paying for both himself since the vendor wasn't pre-paid. The Ward's provided free food at these things, but if you wanted to get drunk you had to do it yourself.
It was both cheaper and probably cut down on problems.
The woman was wearing the same kind of shear white dress that most of the women wore to these parties, almost a uniform. Even he had adopted the male version, with a green sash around his waist and light trousers. She was darker skinned than he was, but lighter than almost everyone else, about the same tan as Trice or Maria. Her smile was nice when she used it, Tor saw. A bit toothy and her gums showed, but it seemed to be real, lighting up her face, which counted for a whole lot with him at the moment.
She spoke softly, a bit shy, like his sister Terlee used to be before she started going all noble Counserina on him. It wasn't all bad, he was proud of her for it… mainly. Except for the spying parts.
“I'm Bonita. I'm here visiting family for a few weeks. Things were a little tense here though, until today. They say Smythe of Westend came and fixed everything. That's something isn't it? I don't think he's here though, a person like him probably wouldn't be off dancing or anything. Probably inside.” She pointed to the Ward palace, which they all called “the estate”.
“Everyone seems so happy. I guess that's understandable. I am. Happy I mean. Maria has always been kind to me. She doesn't get along well with all my other sisters, there are five of us in all, some half-sisters though. We don't have the same mom, Maria and I. But still, family is family. Her husband’s worth coming to look at if nothing else, and I hear that Tor is here. Maria said that. The wizard I mean. He's the one that brought Smythe and stopped the war I think. My other sister, she's younger than me and really pretty, she knows him. At least that's what she said. Still, she was passing out flying amulets at the time and those are almost impossible to get, so she must know someone. Then, she lives in the Capital. I'm the one they keep at the country estate. Bonita Turnbull…” She sounded a bit bitter at the end, but Tor nudged her gently, made a silly face and stuck his tongue out.
He'd heard the insane or unacceptable relative of royals called Howard Turnbull before so he got the reference. Yay, learning. Bonita wasn't crazy though, he touched her field to check, it was a little sad, depressed and lonely, but healthy and decently intelligent feeling. Not a genius maybe, but not evil either and not holding any ulterior motives in talking to him. That heartened him a lot. If she even knew who he was he'd have been surprised, if not flabbergasted. There was no recognition, nothing except genuine interest. In him.
Just the guy who'd asked her to dance.
Heh.
Tor grinned at her.
“Don't get down on my new friend you!” He mock glared and put his fists on his hips trying to puff himself up. Bonita smiled and look down coyly.
“I usually don't tell men this right off, because I generally don't want people to throw themselves at me because of my title, but I like you and am willing to throw out whatever bait I can.” Moving closer to him she whispered softly, “I'm a Baronetta first.”
Tor shrugged.
“That's OK, I won't hold it against you, some of my best friends are nobles.” She looked down shyly again, and giggled softly, which was kind of cute.
“Hey, I didn't want to go alone, but would you like to go soak in one of the tubs? It looks fun.” Moving his head as if gesturing that they should move in that direction, Tor turned off his shield and took her hand, which made Bonita smile at him and follow when he started walking.
Five minutes later they were standing next to one of the pools, which was totally full of people packed so tightly together there was barely room left for water between them. All the pools were like that. Well… darn. Bonita may not have the same kind of face as her sisters, but she looked to have a cute body with nice curves and had the benefit of not being way too tall. Bathing was a good reason to get her out of her clothes too.
The idea made him smile.
“Well, we'll go later. I think I'm here for a couple of days still. I have some work I have to do during the day, but if you want, we can get together and do stuff? I haven't really seen the city at all, this is my third time here, so I should. I've only been to the beach once, and haven't walked the city at all.” He felt silly saying it, but her eyes were warm and she nodded shyly.
“If you want, once you see me in full light, I mean. Everyone looks better in dim light.”
Tor raised his eyebrows.
“Oh… good point, you haven't really seen me yet either. Want to run off and have sex now when we're both good looking? I've been compared to a troll you know. Seriously. Now, I thought it was a little mean, but hey, there were a lot of them saying it at the time…” Stupid Galasian school kids. They made a play about it and everything. To be fair it was a pretty good play, but it still kind of hurt his feelings to think about. Worse, by their traditions, in any future plays or writings, he had to be depicted the same way. No changing it up just to salve his ego or anything.
Worse, the troll him was kind of a jerk.
Before she could answer fireworks started above them.
Ah ha! Someone had activated the device he'd made. Well, leave things on a table with a bunch of drunks and someone was bound to hit the glowing sigils, weren't they? It would be surprising if whoever had didn't wet themselves. At least the effects didn't seem to come directly from the device itself. Instead they seemed to grow out of the air itself way up high in the black night. There were thunderous booms too, a bit before the brilliantly colored streamers crossed the sky. It made it seem more real, he thought. People started to make noises of awe, which turned into cheers as fully a third of the inky black night sky was filled with brilliant purple and gold, the royal colors. Then there was an all green spectacle with twenty randomly placed looking blasts that popped and crackled. For Lairdgren, since that was his house.
Bonita clapped hard.
“Maria didn't mention fireworks! This must have cost a fortune… not that I'm hard up for money, if you’re a male whore… I can pay…” Her voice went soft again, she was looking at him in the bright light from the display.
The snorting laugh that came out was far from dignified. Tor started to answer, but didn't get a chance, since the next phase was coming up already and it kind of stole all the attention. It would start with a flower, a single red rose made of various colored sparkles which got a gasp that was rewarding to say the least. He tapped his shield off again for what was coming, since it would be filtered otherwise and casually took Bonita's right hand in his left, looking at her in the gentle glow. She glanced at him, and smiled happily, her hand tightening around his.
What came made people stand up and cheer with delight, hooting and hollering in drunken abandon. It was a saucy dancing girl, made of sparkles all in red and bright blue. The image moved though, standing, legs flashing as skirts were tossed up. Drumming, fast and driving, came from the sky itself as she skipped and twirled, if you were imaginative and attentive you could see a dark patch as she twirled and her skirt rose, in interesting places. It was actually based on one of the girls he'd seen dancing the time before when he'd come, so it looked pretty realistic. Not perfect, but no one seemed to mind that it wasn't an actual giant dancing woman in realistic colors. He could have done that of course, now that he'd gotten how to make things move, it had just seemed like it might be too scary without giving people something less realistic to look at first.
This was it, he thought, the important part.
It started almost without notice, the sense of a warm breeze hitting the skin, gaining strength and cooling slightly as birds flew into the scene from nowhere the feeling of their wing beats buffeting the crowd. They seemed to appear on a thunderclap, both were green, and had decent realism other than the color and being made of firework sparkles. The drumming was suddenly joined by horns as rain gently fell on skin. Except the world was totally dry. It was just the sensation of it, fed to the brain directly. This died suddenly and was replaced with a low tingle that Tor figured would probably have had him lynched in Two Bends, but might go over with a crowd of rowdy drunks that often turned sex into a public sport. The tingle became pleasure, and in about a minute the pleasure grew so intense that people were shaking a little. Even Bonita who grasped his arm tightly went breathless for a bit. It felt good to him, but not that intense… Were some people just more sensitive than others then?
Good to know. He'd have to build in a way to control the intensity of sensation to Trice’s arm. Just in case she wasn't as jaded that way as he was or something. Then, as the pleasure peeked, the sky exploded in ten different colors, booms loud enough to echo in their chests.
No one moved for a while, ten seconds, more than that.
Then people cheered. It was so overwhelming that Tor nearly slapped his shield again, but didn't because just then Bonita spilled her drink on him clumsily so that it soaked his shirt and part of his lap. She looked worried, but it was a mock thing, not real. She'd done it on purpose? Why?
She started brushing at him wildly, paying most of her attention to his lap, of course most of the bright red drink had gone into his shirt. He almost told her not to worry about it when she pulled him up and over towards the pools, heading towards the stone stairs that would take them up into his temporary house. Checking her thoughts, it was clear she still had no clue who he was… so they were sneaking in? Almost naughty. She wasn't drunk, but she still had to stifle giggle when they got inside and shut the door holding it behind her.
“This way! There have to be rooms, right? Unless wizards don't sleep. I've heard rumors about Master Tor staying up for weeks working. Can you imagine that? This is nicer than I thought it would be… Tor must actually have taste.” Up the second set of stone stairs, hard under his feet, there was a polished cherry wood door with brass fixtures.
She opened it slowly. It was silent, making only the softest wave of air to indicate anything really happened at all.
“Hello? Anyone in here? Hello? Don't blast us please?” She still sounded shy but wasn't acting it any more. No, her actions were almost bold. Breaking into a wizard’s house to do who knew what? Who did that?
They did, apparently.
The light sigil glowed on the wall next to the door, but she didn't try for it, instead she felt around for something soft and found the bed, which wasn't hard to do, since he'd made it huge, just in case a friend came over. That had been the hope at least. And here they were… He'd figured on guilty sex with Sara, taking advantage of the fact that as a spy she'd want to get close to him. Maybe even Sorlee. She worked as a whore, so it wouldn't hurt her emotionally, but it would curl Terlee's totally straight hair a little. Especially if he did some of the things that Petra and Collette had been doing with him.
Bonita wanted sex, and wasn't nearly as practiced as the other women he'd been with about the whole idea. She was sweet, gentle and willing to try almost anything though. So Tor kissed down her stomach, just the finest hint of hair tickled his lips. Then he slowly moved lower. He wasn't an expert at this, but Ursala had said he was doing pretty well in practice and Bonita responded as if pleased. Very much so. After that she wanted to try several other things, all of them fun, but things that didn't push into any new territories for him personally, so he could focus on doing a good job rather than worry that he was doing it right or not hurting her.
What she really wanted though was to be held and told she was pretty, that she had lovely eyes, which she did, even in the near pitch black of the room, and that she was just as good as anyone else. She said all this shyly, but straight out, and with a pure honesty that touched him deep inside.
“As good? Seriously? Better. Anybody doubting that can expect to have an argument from me for sure. You are truly wonderful and brilliant.” He said with confidence. It was easy enough to do, being true.
They fell asleep holding each other with him whispering sweet things to her, which seemed to make her happy. She was cuddly and clung to him like she didn't want to let go. That was all right, he didn't really want to either, so it worked out for both of them, didn't it?
In the morning, sunlight coming through the window, but early still, well before breakfast, he woke. Alone. He felt a little sad at first, wondering if he'd done something wrong. She'd seemed happy enough… Then he saw a pile of coins on the table, near his side of the bed. Two and a half gold. Was she worried about his shirt and pants? This would probably buy ten sets of those or more. Twenty maybe. Plus it was magic clothing anyway, so it would be perfect when he put it back on.
Then, still groggy, he got the idea.
He was a whore.
She'd thought she was paying him to do those things? And apparently Tor had done well enough that she'd paid about five times too much. Maybe ten? That worried him. True, maybe she was paying him to go away and not embarrass her with her family or to prevent blackmail, but even if she was married, for a royal a tryst with someone like that wasn't a big deal. Maybe her husband was really big and jealous or something and she wanted to ensure the peace? Could be. Who knew. Well, if he ran into Bonita again he'd ask her to go do something and see if she put him off.
If he just wasn't her type then he'd try again until he found a girl that fit.
Still the whole thing hurt a little. Not so much that she'd paid him for it, but that she didn't think enough of herself to realize she didn't have too.
After cleaning up he went to the estate for breakfast, since he'd been invited to do so for the duration of his stay. He kept expecting the doorman, the butler, to turn him away, or maybe be cold, but was met with a big smile and called sir more times in one minute than he had been in the rest of his life put together. Literally. It was almost like the man really wanted Tor to know he was respected or something.
All the meals were kind of casual and cozy here, you served yourself from a table set up in the next room, and when inside took it in to the dining room to eat. They had cooling plates inside the one room, but most people had equalizers now, so they all sat around the big highly polished dark wood table instead of off trays in the funny, hard to sit in, chairs of the cool room.
Tor found them sitting on one end of the table, which was covered with a fine lace tablecloth of cream colored material, with plates of food, mainly sliced fruit and cool bread made hours before, probably in a bakery away from the main building. Four women and one giant Count sat talking softly.
Maria and Trice were tucked around Bonita protectively, leaning in to hear her clearly, with Ellen sitting near, obviously paying attention. The Count seemed amused, but fought to keep the look off his face. It rolled off his internal field though.
“So then I left some coins on the bed stand and left. I couldn't face that morning after thing again, when they sober up and realize what I really look like, that I'm not you or Collette or even Ginger. Just ugly Bonita Turnbull. But he was worth the price and more. I should have gotten his name so I could meet him again. I could borrow some gold for it, right?” The voice was soft and plaintive, but everyone said “oohh…” in unison.
Even the Count, though he nodded to her, indicating clearly that mere coin wouldn't be an issue between them. The woman hadn't looked up to see it though. It made Tor feel a little better, knowing that Marvin would back his sister in-law like that.
Not that it was needed.
In direct light she actually looked a little cuter than she had the night before, more color and her hair wasn't messed up already. Also the light blue dress she wore worked for her complexion way better than white. She wasn't Collette or Maria, or even Trice, but anyone calling her ugly was a bastard, and more, simply wrong. If Tor had been presented with this woman on his wedding day he'd have been pleased.
He wore a deep brown silk shirt and pants that looked like leather, matching color almost perfectly, with heavy boots that had really high, but very soft, soles on them. He suddenly wondered if he should turn them into something more impressive, but knew that pretending to be something he wasn't wouldn't help anything.
Sitting down next to Trice earned a funny look from her, a worried and happy thing to start with, blurring into something like anger. Right, she hated him for her job still. Which wasn't going to work, but Tor couldn't share that with her without ruining her game.
The Count waved to him lazily but pointed towards the quiet girl and placed a single finger to him mouth covertly enough to not call attention to the move. Trice glanced up at the giant, but ignored Tor after that. It made Tor feel almost like he should grope her under the table in retaliation, but that could be noticed so he refrained.
Barely.
It would just be funny. Not able to resist long he stared at the conversation and dropped his hand to his friends leg, running his fingers along the inside of her thigh ever so gently, but just once, then, as if it never happened, even though she jumped and looked at him, took his hand back before she could make a scene about it.
That got a baffled look from Trice, which Tor found unduly rewarding for some reason.
The conversation got complicated, because Maria kept asking “and then what” about her sisters evening and Bonita was going into detail. Embarrassing and graphic detail, but it sounded good when she said it. Almost as if his efforts in love making were artistic rather than just paltry fumblings. About halfway through Trice glanced at him and smirked, expecting him to have turned a bright scarlet, most likely.
Tilting his head he grinned at her and winked, which truly confused her. That was plain on her face, as well as washing off of her field. Maria seemed excited enough about the events though and promised to help her locate the man, whoever he was. Even if they had to line up all the brothel men in the city. Bonita kept her head down and just didn't look over at all. Not even at Patricia or up at the Count.
Finally Maria made eye contact and smiled prettily at him, as if she hadn't noticed him before. Possible, she'd been busy after all, family first, and Bonita was sweet and kind, and had an adventure to share, so was worth paying attention to. He really needed to find out if she was married so he wasn't accidentally indiscreet. The Countess nodded a few times, seeing where his gaze went.
“Oh! We've all been so busy I haven't introduced you two at all have I? Bonita, this man is Master Builder Torrence Baker, Countier four Lairdgren. Well, you know, Tor. Tor, this is my oldest sister Bonita Coltress, half sister-really, but she's closer to me than my full sister. She's Baronetta first. Hmmm. Are you engaged right now? That’s within three steps. Nita's not married yet and she really should be soon.” The tone was playful, but not said without a bit of serious intent.
Without looking up a soft moan came from behind hands laying flat over her face.
“Maria! God, I'm so embarrassed… stupid Bonita Turnbull…” She didn't hit her head with a rock, but Tor could sympathize with the feeling.
He spoke, trying to make his voice warm and happy sounding. It wasn't hard. He really liked Bonita.
“Currently not engaged to be married, but supposedly I have a date tonight, with a Baronetta even. If that doesn't fall through or something. Things are looking up, definitely, you know? I was just coming to check and see if Bonita had a jealous husband or boyfriend I needed to watch out for, the way she stole away like that… And seriously, two and a half gold? No one's worth that for a single night. I'm keeping it though, we can use it for our date.” His voice came out wry and pleasant sounding at least.
His voice got her to look up. Finally. He'd thought she might bolt, Terlee used to do that when scared or pushed too far socially. That or hide and mumble at him, instead she smiled, and jumping behind Trice, tried to pull him into a hug, then a kiss, but he had his shield on, which he turned off for her.
It was warm and done well enough to feel nice, what more did he want?
Trice got up and stormed out.
Angrily. A small flash of real angst coming from her as she did. And a whole lot more confusion.
Tor ignored her and kissed Bonita back.