Tor discovered two things about Mary Cannor very quickly. The first was that she had a kind of off-putting body odor. That was probably due to the fact that she'd spent the last week riding in one form of carriage or another without stopping for anything. Awful things, carriages. Slow and bumpy rides at the best of time, probably a lot worse on the unkempt roads between the major cities. Plus hot in the spring and summer when you got near the Capital. The second thing was that she might be crazy, but that didn't mean stupid at all. She'd come for the kids, true, they were her heirs and family, her great nephew and niece, but also to try and score some better weapons for her forces. She almost instantly tried to get Tor to agree to make some for her people for free.
Before he could agree, since, obviously he was going to help out family that way, Gerald stood and cleared his throat.
“Aunt Mary?” He sounded tentative, but by calling attention to himself he almost instantly found himself wrapped in the much taller woman’s arms. He did a credible job of hugging her back at least, even if she did smell.
“Um, sorry, I was going to say that there's a waiting list for things from Master Tor. He put me in charge of scheduling and, well, I've decided that the counties around Ward need to be provisioned first. That means Printer, Morris and Callwood. Then other people who might be attacked by Austra or the Ward's directly. After that, well, since Cannor is sending all their forces to fight, we need to get them in too, but Master Tor can only do so much work in a day…” After he spoke he looked down, then, without anyone saying anything his eyes popped open wide and he gulped, looking directly at Tor, seeming a little scared suddenly.
Tor just shrugged. It was a plan and when he stopped to consider it, one that made sense. Better than his just doing what everyone asked, which had been the previous idea. Ward was his major concern at the moment too after all. Down the table Holly agreed vocally, letting them all know that it sounded like a good idea, even if she did benefit from it directly. From the other end of the table Rich cleared his throat.
“Indeed. Don't forget the kingdom in there though Squire Gerald. Oh, that reminds me. Would you Gerald Negev Cannor and you Gemma Negev Cannor, both please rise?” Smiling the King walked around the table, coming to them, and having them kneel. The words were familiar to Tor, basically telling them that they were good people and great things were expected from them. The — or else — was implied.
“Arise Sir Gerald, Sir Gemma.” A large hand had been placed on each of their heads with a big smile, even though the King had to go to one knee himself to reach that low in a dignified manner. They all stood.
“Sir Gerald.” Tor said softly. “Sir Gemma.”
That was the one weird thing about all this. When a woman became a Knight, she was called “sir” not lady. The same was true for a Squire, though after the first ceremony the sir didn't get used at all, they were just Squire whoever and that generally only when being introduced to someone new, with a full explanation of their situations. The King stood and spun on Tor.
“I know this may seem a little odd, but your assistant isn't going to be your Squire, Tor. Instead I'm putting him with Sir Kolbrin. The truth is, you just don't have time, or need, for a real Squire. Squire Gemma…” The King chuckled. “Karina, you asked to do the honors…”
The Princess rose and walked around the table not stopping until she reached Trice.
“Lady Patricia Alyson Morgan, Ducherina third, please rise.” She said it with such a serious tone that Trice’s eyes went wide. Probably scared that Karina was going to lop off the other arm. Fair enough. Even if it had been for her own good, that kind of thing had to leave scars. Trice managed to find her feet though.
“Please kneel…” The little ceremony took longer, because there was a listing of deeds needed for a Knight. You only needed three, which Patricia had, even though it was news to Tor. The first one listed, everyone knew. She'd heroically saved them all not a week before. Hard to miss that.
The next Tor suspected, but hadn't known for certain. She had, under orders from the King himself, sacrificed her love, him, he realized instantly, to infiltrate the Ward estate and seek evidence on them. Apparently calling him names in public counted as heroic now. Hearing it said out loud made him cringe.
Then his stomach and heart fell horribly, a deep plummet that made him wonder if things inside him had actually come loose for a moment. After all, he'd nearly killed her for that, for hurting him, and built a weapon that probably shouldn't exist to take out almost everyone else too, after hearing her malign him in a restaurant about nine months before, or was it less? Tor didn't even know what day or month it was to tell the truth. His head hung a little thinking about it. About Trice.
She'd been ordered to say those things by the King? Probably forbidden to tell him either, so that it would all look real. God. Why? Taking a deep breath Tor turned to stare at the King, who at least had the grace to look embarrassed. Connie looked down too. She knew the whole time? All that, the hurt he'd felt, the pain, his anger and tearing himself apart over it for most of a year and she knew? But… She was supposed to like him.
The last deed was about something that he'd never even heard of, saving some woman's life. The name wasn't familiar at all, Deborah Harding? It meant nothing. Something about a waterfall?
Looking at Rolph, Tor realized something then, his friend, his best friend in the whole world, had known. It was there in his eyes, the shamed look on his face. How long? Across the table Varley looked down after catching his eye. Her too? Gods, had everyone known the whole time?
Probably not, Rolph wasn't such a good actor that he could have hidden it from him, not at the restaurant or in the days after. Was he? Tor started to shake with rage. Next to him Ger went pale and suddenly skipped back, pulling Gemma and Mary away with him and, rather wisely, triggering his shield at the same time.
“Please rise, Sir Patricia!” Karina, down the table a ways said loudly. Just to be cute she tapped Trice on the nose. “Bodabink- you're a Knight!”
Everyone not staring at him and moving back, laughed.
Tor stood himself.
“Sir Patricia.” He said, his voice going dark and bitter, even to his own ears as the combat rage took him. She'd not only humiliated him in public, something he'd basically made peace with, because she claimed that she was doing it to try and find the people that tried to poison him after all, but the King made her do it? And even after everything, no one had told him? They were all just laughing at him then? Having a go with him? Was he just a joke or a game to them all then?
Without moving or gesturing at all the table blew away from him, lifting up and over the chairs on the far side easily and crashing into the wall behind them, some forty feet away. Everyone at the table stayed in place, having shields on, he realized, but most of them still moved away, running for the side of the room. Tor tried to calm himself, he'd done it before, but this time he couldn't care enough to drop into the needed trance state.
Instead he glared at the King.
“You! It was all your doing? What did I ever do to you? You know… Forget it. I'm out of here. Don't talk to me again. Ever!” He shouted the last part, knowing that it sounded childish but not caring. Everything had been a set up, Rich had ordered his fiancee to tell the world about how much she hated him and how stupid and ugly he was? Fine.
They could run their little war without him then. He almost demanded all the money that the kingdom owed him, but decided to just forget about it. He didn't really need gold. They could take it and shove it up their collective royal asses for all he cared.
They'd probably enjoy it even, stupid royal freak perverts.
Tor stormed out just heading towards the nearest exit once he got into the stone lined hallway. It was hard to navigate the palace, it was so huge and he'd spent most of his time in his room here, not exploring or learning the place.
That didn't matter. All he needed right now was to get outside. For a second he was tempted to just build an explosive field and blast his way through the walls, but realized that there might be innocent people on the other side. Even enraged he wouldn't risk killing an innocent person. Not just for this. Instead he stopped and looked around.
“How do I get the hell out of here?” He asked the air, his voice and body trembling hard. After a moment a man, who looked about forty, giant of course, wearing the black and purple of the Royal Guard stepped out of the wall. A panel had opened up from behind a cloth hanging.
“Follow me please, sir.” He said, his voice sounding humble and a little scared. Normally being scared of a giant Royal Guard was Tor's job, not the other way around, but that didn't make a difference right now either. Tor followed. If the man was misleading him, he'd… Well, he'd probably run away. It wasn't the guards fault if he worked for jerks, was it? They were selected for training as tiny children, it wasn't like he'd ever had a real choice in the matter or anything.
They walked down a half dozen hallways, maybe more, switching back and forth, before they reached a door that took them outside. When he got there twenty armed Royal Guards stood waiting for him. No one pointed their weapons at him at least. They didn't move on him either.
“Master Tor sir…” One of them said, a woman he didn't recognize really, but who felt familiar, if that was a thing. “We, ah, we don't really know what to do. It… wouldn't be good for you to go into town in this state, but…” She didn't shrug or do anything he could take the wrong way. Right, he was insane right now, wasn't he? But not crazy enough to stay here with these monsters that had done what they did to him. Why? Just to get the Wards? They still could have told him at any time, even if it had really been the only way, but no, he didn't rate knowing why people were destroying his life, did he?
All he had on was a shield. Not even a temperature equalizing field. Screw it, he decided and closed his eyes for a minute, still shaking. He'd built a thousand flight fields hadn't he, ten thousand? He could make one now that would be good enough to get him out of there. Raising his left hand he lifted into the air and started flying, in the dark, towards home.
It was a fantastically stupid thing to do of course.
The second the combat rage stopped, he'd be stuck, forced to land, if not just plummeting from the sky to his death. Well, he had a real shield, so he'd live. Most likely at least. A few people had crashed while flying, but so far no one died, the shields took care of that.
Torrance was tempted for a moment to turn the shield off and just let it happen. Instead he focused on the flight and twenty minutes later, as he started to calm down, he just landed, going so slowly and carefully that when the field cut out he was still nearly twenty feet up in the air. The ground cracked and thumped when he hit and his legs buckled, slapping hard into his chest, pain ripping through him.
As he lay on his side he got it. When he'd thought about deactivating the shield, his personal intent had done it. Oops. Combat rage led to direct effect, which in this case apparently led to broken legs. He felt them with his hand. No blood at least. They were broken, sure, resting at funny angles both, but not that badly, he'd live. Probably.
The worst was his right leg, halfway to the knee. There was a lump that wasn't normal at all, and it hurt a lot, so Tor did the only thing he could and dropped into a work trance, fighting to build a field around himself in the cool night air. What could he do though? A though occurred to him, one that he'd never even considered before. Could he build a healing field? They existed, Master Builder Maris made most of them of course, putting out about one per year. She only made one-ups and they cost tens of thousands of golds apiece. She only built them for a specific person too, Tor had heard. One that worked for one person didn't do it for another at all.
What did it take though? Did he have to understand the healing mechanism or… What would happen if he just told the injury to go back to the way it was before? Fix the field? Could he do that? It took hours of focus, but he had time, so just worked without concern for anything but the field he held.
Finally there was a pop, a sense of movement from his right leg, and a sudden absence. At first he wondered if he'd made his leg go away somehow, but that wasn't it, the pain was just gone. He held the field, but nothing new was happening. That being the case he forced himself out of that deep state and tried to climb to the surface, near where everyone else lived most the time. Once there Tor looked around. It was still pitch black out and he was lying on his side in the dirt. Poking at his right leg gently he found that it was there still, and more, it didn't hurt. It felt… normal. Gingerly, ready to fall down in pain again, Tor stood. The leg held, both did. It didn't even ache.
So healing could be done just by reminding a body to be healthy and making that idea strong enough? It should be possible to make an item for that. One that would work for anyone too. Complicated but doable.
Tor slapped his shield on, using it as a buffer against the dirt and lay down again. He was exhausted. Combat rage, no matter how good a reason you had for it, or even that you didn't get into a fist fight with the object of your anger, did that to you. Tor dreaded the headache he was going to have in the morning, but he'd live.
He just wouldn't want to.
Everyone had known? What the hell? There had been signs now that he knew about it himself. Ursala and Sara had both refused to tell him why Trice had done it, but they knew that she didn't mean the awful things she'd said. He'd always thought they were just standing by their friend, but now… Had all his friends been in on it the whole time?
No. Kolb didn't know… did he? Tor didn't know that, honestly. The man was an enigma. A deadly fighter, Knight and even head of the King’s secret army, but Tor had set him up in that last bit, hadn't he? So the man might or might not know.
Major Godfrey… Well, there was no reason for him to know and Sorlee wouldn't have been told anything either. She'd have probably let it slip to him, right? Even though there were no debts between friends, she still acted like she owed him for helping to save her parents farm. That had only taken gold though.
Tor dozed and, as he figured he would, woke up with an almost crippling headache, it was bad enough that he dry heaved for a while before he started walking north, towards his house. The near vomiting did nothing to make him feel better. Actually it made his head throb and feel like something inside was about to burst. He didn't know how far he'd gotten towards it the night before, the wasteland looked pretty much the same through about a hundred and fifty miles past the Capital, then the only change would be that it had a little more rock on the reddish surface. There was no water in this part, unless the falcons was up and running. If that was the case he could get some there, which shouldn't be more than fifty miles or so ahead, right? After another ten minutes of walking he had to start laughing.
He was a builder.
Duh.
The reaction headache must be making him stupid he decided. That, Tor knew wasn't even just him being hard on himself, it really did kind of knock the intelligence down for a while, messing with how the brain worked until you recovered. Thinking was hard and slow for him in the moment, which probably meant it would be a good idea to avoid life changing decisions for the time being too. No one was at their best after something like that.
Tor looked down and found two small rocks, both nicely smooth and red colored. One was shot with a deep black and a little bigger than the other. Sitting down he made a Not-flyer, a military grade one, into the stones. The bigger piece went into his inner pants pocket and the other he just held in his right hand, palm down. Reaching over he just tapped the back of his own hand, using focus to send a jolt of intent to the stone clutched inside. He rose four inches off the ground and after a few seconds started moving forward at about eighty miles per hour. The Falcons river, the floating one that he'd built the year before to help reduce the effects of a drought in County Ford, wasn't turned on at the moment it seemed, which made sense; if there was no need for it, why bother? That didn't matter, because, with only a little searching he found the front gate of Wilderness Station easily enough. His home.
Yay.
It was almost a perfectly straight line from the palace to his door after all.
Right. First he'd bathe and get something to eat, then see if the cook had some of that reaction remedy on hand. Tor knew the guy used it himself for hangovers at least a few times a week, so it was likely. On second thought, he decided, brain suddenly throbbing to an even greater level, maybe he'd do that first? Head feeling like it had been stuffed with wool, painful and nausea filled, Tor nodded and nearly threw up. Definitely that first.
It gleamed in the sun, the compound before him, a reddish black jewel, walls nearly thirty feet high, with four towers, one at leach corner of the wall, and a large palace like structure towards the rear. There was a division between the front and the back, a wall with a simple, if huge, door cut in it. Not that he could see it from the ground of course. Kolb and his people had build on when they moved in. Tor still lived in the little hut he'd built first. It was actually, to the best of his knowledge, the first thing like it ever built with focus stone. Concentrated dirt.
Seeing it he felt a sense of relief. At least he still had a home, even if most of his friends had turned out to hate him or at least didn't care enough to try and spare his feelings at all. Not even Varley hadn't told him and they were engaged to be married. Or they were at least. Tor shook himself slightly and then instantly regretted it.
Don't make any life altering choices with the reaction still on him, he reminded himself again. It would be too easy to pick the wrong course just then. Someone saying hello the wrong way could set him off as things stood. If this were anywhere else, he'd be given easy and gentle treatment for a while, a day or so, until he got back to normal. Instead he'd have to take care of himself, all his friends gone now.
It was so incredibly lonely to think about.
Tor dropped to the ground just in front of the open gate, his head feeling stuffed with cotton in the few spaces it just didn't ache, which was a change up from wool. A finer feeling. More white instead of an oily gray sense to things. At the palace they had a pretty decent remedy for it, some kind of bitter brown sludge that tasted horrible, but made the worst of the pain go away at least. The thought was silly, he realized, since it was the same one he could get from the cook here. Thinking really just wasn't his thing at the moment. He made himself smile and slowly walk forward.
The sun was brighter than normal today too, hotter. Part of that was the light sensitivity from the combat rage, and part because he was out with no temperature equalizer on. Tor could grab one in his hut though, there was a box of them sitting on the shelf behind the table. As he walked in, two men, both low ranked military, in their black uniforms, barred his way. They literally moved to stand in front of him and not let him walk to his hut.
Guards? He'd known that there was normally a man watching the gate, but this seemed a bit more official for some reason. Probably the new war thing with the Wards and the attack on Queen's day in the Capital a week before.
“Where do you think you’re going?” One of them said with a lot more menace than someone should have at Tor's front gate, war on or not. Tor didn't recognize either man, so he tried to let it go. After all, they were just doing their job, right? Trying to make sure no one came to visit without permission or something? Though really, if anyone bothered to show up way out here, shouldn't' they let them in? Maybe find them a snack and a guide?
“I'm Tor. I live here? In fact, it's my house, so step aside please.” It took effort but he managed to even keep his voice civil, pain slicing through his head or not.
The other guard chuckled.
“Right… a little piece of shit commoner like you is the Wizard Tor? Go away before we beat you for lying.”
This got a laugh from the other man too. Of course. Well, if they didn't recognize him, what could he do?
“I'm Tor, Torrence Baker… Really… Can you get someone that knows me at least, instead of trying to bar me from my own home? That's the protocol, isn't it? Get someone to vet the person at the gate?” He crossed his arms, but refused to tap his foot at them yet. He wasn't a farm wife. Normally it would have been just a mild inconvenience even if these men were being obnoxious about the whole thing. His head and mood just weren't up for it today for some reason. Tor would have to talk to Godfrey about this. It was one thing to bar the way, but they shouldn't be rude to guests or visitors, right? Or to him. That part was a little annoying too at the moment. More than a little.
Neither man wanted to be bothered, but finally one of them walked off, coming back with a sergeant a while later. He didn't recognize Tor either. He also didn't seem to think much of his claim of being himself. His clothing was a bit dirty, even though clearly quality for all that. Really, Tor guessed, it was all about his being short. All these men were taller, most of the elite military were. They looked at him and thought “commoner”. Or more likely, “commoner piece of shit”, from what the first men had said.
“Sorry, we don't have anyone available to check out your claim right now, maybe after breakfast?”
Did people actually show up at his front gate claiming to be him all that often? Probably not, which meant that these guys were just pushing him around because they thought they could get away with it. Well, he wasn't in the military, and he was kind of short, but still… Tor nodded and stalked off. He'd just go through the gate around back entrance, he told them, getting another laugh.
“There is no gate in the back.” The sergeant said, obviously deciding that he was a crank or possibly insane.
“Not yet.” Tor grumbled softly enough that they probably didn't hear him over their own laughing.
That was, he realized, about the last straw. This was his house. They were just guests and he hadn't even invited them. None of them except Kolb's people and the ladies of industry, the whores. The military personnel had come in uninvited and set up shop. His house, his rules, right? Well one of his rules from now on was that no one kept him out. He had time to think about this while he walked around the outer wall, it took nearly ten minutes to work his way around to the back. Right in the center of the wall he stopped and took a deep breath, which caused his head to ache even more somehow.
Dropping into a deep working state he started building a cutter, a simple magical field that just told matter to go in two separate directions really, on a very tiny level of being. It had to be strong, but wasn't hard to make, not after all the building practice he'd had. It was one of the first things he'd done using direct effect like this. He didn't want to take time to build an actual device right now, so this one just hung in the air in front of his right hand, following it as a guide.
Holding his focus steady he cut through the stone wall as if through warm butter. Tor started with a half circle no taller than he was, then made a line on the bottom. The weight held it in place, but a line appeared where his hand moved. Then he bisected it, cutting the new door into several pieces. When none of the chunks looked to be bigger than his fist Tor let the cutter fade and waited for a second. Then he waited for nearly a minute. The cutter hadn't faded much at all. Heh. That was a strong field for one hastily built. He must be finally getting better at things like that, he realized. A small sign of mastery, even if it was a bit annoying right now.
Holding his right hand out so he didn't accidentally cut anything he wanted off his body Tor kicked the focus stone wall a little awkwardly, a stomp about three foot high. The first kick made some of the pieces slide a little, but it took a dozen more to open up a hole and about five minutes to move enough out of the way for him to walk through. It was five foot thick after all. The action made both his right foot and ankle, plus his head, ache. Whee.
Plus he'd have to fix the hole in the wall now, or make an actual gate back here. Tor decided to bother with that later, after he had some rest and got cleaned up. The cutter had finally faded, almost at least, so Tor just walked in, being careful not to trip as he made his way past the five foot long pieces of smooth red and black stone littering the ground.
“Stop right there!” A voice screamed at him forcefully. Maybe “scream” was unkind? It was a manly bellow maybe. Whichever, it made him wince, head throbbing. Ten military men stood around holding force lances on him. Ah. Still no one that knew who he was? What the heck was with that? Had he come to the wrong compound made of focus stone in the wastelands?
“Down on the ground, now!” The one in front screamed. Tor had a shield on, but no weapons. He let his mind turn to rebuilding the cutter, which sprang back into place almost instantly, though it wasn't very strong yet. That would come, if he had a few more seconds. He decided to buy some time.
“I don't think so. Put your weapons down and move out of my way. This is my house and I won't be treated this way here.” Tor knew his voice shook with rage, but the man in front of him didn't seem to care about his feelings at all. Kind of rude of him really.
“I said get down!” The bully in front screamed again, making Tor a little mad. He didn't care for people trying to bully him in general, and his tolerance for it in the moment was gone completely. The ache in his temples was too much to allow forbearance. It wouldn't have been a problem if they would have done what he said or even left him alone… So of course the moron in front tried to kick Tor in the stomach, because if you don't get your own way, don't bother trying to think, right? No just go right ahead and attack a man in his own house. Not that he was doing so hot in that department himself, thinking, but he had a reason for that. These men didn't, they were just morons.
The move cost the man his left foot as Tor reflexively blocked the move with the cutter field. The man didn't even realize his foot had been removed until he tried to set his leg down. A cutter wound didn't hurt after all, but the man, a captain if Tor recognized the little blob on his collar, certainly screamed loud enough when the stub hit the dirt. The raw wound had to sting a bit. The man crumpled to the ground and grabbed his leg, bleeding profusely.
Then, probably not realizing that Tor hadn't been attacking at all, just trying to defend himself, the remaining nine men opened up with their weapons. They turned out not to be force lances, but a variety of military weapons. No air chokes, thank god. Nothing they had touched him at all, so he started walking.
“I'm Tor you morons, stop attacking me and get this man medical attention! This is my house…” No one listened to him at all. He yelled it again. Finally he just decide to go home, the men screaming at him the whole time. At least one of the men, a private, had enough sense to get a tourniquet on the downed mans leg. None of the men had shields on for some reason, which was too bad for the captain, or he'd still have that foot. For a moment Tor wondered if he could fix it. The cut was really clean and if he could repair the field, like he had his own leg, would that work? He could try, if these morons would stop getting in his way.
They didn't though, trying to tackle him and getting more people to join in. What fun, let's beat up Tor! Finally voices started telling them to stop, first a female voice, one of Kolb's instructors, Petra. Petra Ward. Even if her brother and sister in-law had tried to poison him, she seemed all right. Nice even. Being cute didn't hurt either. After a few seconds she stood in front of him, and started knocking out anyone that came towards him. Less than ten seconds after that half a dozen combat giants took up position around him too.
“Stand down!” One of them, a huge man that stood at least seven-six and was a full Baron ordered the military men. “I said, stand the fuck down!”
“Tor…” Petra said softly, “What happened? Why are they attacking you?” She sounded baffled.
“They kept me out at the front gate, so I came back here and made a new one,” He gestured behind him. “Then they attacked me, probably for doing that, but it's my freaking wall, if I want to put in a new gate, I can. That one there, Captain moron? He tried to kick me, so I cut his foot off. I didn't mean to, acted on instinct. They're just lucky I didn't do the same to the rest of them!” His voice had moved into a half yell. He snorted as he took a deep breath through his nose.
“Now, if no one’s going to try to kill me for a few minutes I need to drop my shield if I'm going to do anything about this assholes foot before you all leave. The military I mean. If they're going to attack me, they obviously aren't welcome here anymore.” That made sense, didn't it? Tor decided it did and knelt by the jerk that had tried to attack him. Mad as he was, a kick to the stomach wasn't really worth a lost foot as a lesson.
It took about an hour to really fix the foot back into place, but the initial repair got managed in less than ten minutes, fast enough that the tissue hadn't died yet at least. That was good, because Tor was pretty sure that if the flesh died, the foot was gone forever. That just felt right. When the work was done the man got up and started walking as if nothing had happened. He went gingerly at first, and was pale from blood loss and shock, but didn't seem to be in pain. Good, he could walk out on his own then.
Before anyone else could say anything Tor looked at the military men arrayed around him in their dark uniforms. He pointed.
“Get out. Get your crap and get out of my home now. You have ten minutes. Don't take anything that isn't yours and get out. Now.” No one moved. Tor got to his feet and pointed again. “Now!”
He didn't wait for anyone to do anything, covered in blood from working on the man’s foot he stalked towards his hut. If they thought he was going to just let them stay now, they were going to be surprised. Though they really shouldn't be. He was a builder after all.
Walking down into his hut, the single room fifty by fifty foot dwelling he'd made for himself his first day here, he moved to his box of amulets and made sure he was better armed. Flying rig, Not-flyer, force lances, two air chokes and going to his bed he dug an explosive out of the chest he had under his bed. No one knew these were there, but he had a hundred of them. They were special, designed to kill, but not destroy the whole world or anything like that. No, that weapon he kept on a twine string, which hung around his neck. It was too powerful to leave lying around. Really he should destroy it, he just hadn't gotten to it yet. Things kept coming up.
Walking outside he noticed that no one had started packing. In fact the military men all seemed to be lined up in front of his house. With weapons. So not even bothering to try and apologize?
Jerks.
He blinked at them, arrayed there the hot white sun. At least some of them seemed to recognize him this time. There were a lot more of them now, nearly five hundred? What the hell? He'd only been gone for a little under a month. How had this happened? There had only been about three hundred before. It didn't matter. Not now. They were just about to leave anyway.
Tor pointed at them with a force lance.
“Go! Get out now.” No one budged.
“You can't order us off a military base! You're not even in the military you sawed off psycho!” One of the men near the back yelled. Tor understood that the guy wasn't anyone in charge, but it was just about the wrong thing to say, wasn't it? He was sawed off? How would they look without any legs, he wondered? Instead, he responded, sounding a lot more relaxed and calm than he felt. So basically he came off as a half insane gibbering fool, even to his own ears.
“True. And if this was a military base, there'd be a problem, but it isn't. It's my home, not a base at all. Now go. Get out.” No one moved. Tor sighed. “Right, then.”
Sweeping the force lance fast he knocked down the first three rows on the right hand side, then laid into them for real. Didn't they get the point? It wasn't that deep or anything, they were being evicted and needed to leave. Seeing their fellows being knocked down and as often as not, out, those with weapons opened fire. Nothing happened to him, but his house got hit a lot. He could hear it, even though nothing they had did much to it at all. Focus stone was tough. Tor kept sweeping their lines, making a point to hit anyone coming his way or holding a weapon.
True, he could just switch weapons and kill them all, but most of them were just guys that made furniture, plates and cisterns for water. They hadn't wronged him, not personally. They had to go, because their fellows had messed up and they worked for the King, but death seemed a little harsh just for that. Still, he had a second force lance, one way better than what they had. He took out most of them then, holding one in each hand, the little copper tubes glinting a bit and feeling smooth to his fingers. His weapons moving back and forth as fast as he could move his arms. This worked pretty well until someone flew into him at speed.
His shield protected him, but Tor was ripped off his feet, carrying part of the ground with him, stuck in the shield itself, as a large man in black hit him full force, actually flying, so about three hundred and fifty miles per hour. He had a shield too, since Tor had kind of insisted that no one in the military fly without one. It was to keep them safe, of course.
Turned out to be a brilliant plan now, didn't it?
Tor didn't wait to hit the ground, tapping the back of his left hand with his right as he tumbled through the air. The tricky part was waiting as he fell, until he knew his hand was being raised upward. If he got it wrong he'd power dive into the ground. He rose. It wasn't really upwards, off at an angle instead, but close enough to let him orient himself without dying. The mound of dirt dropped away after a few seconds, the field letting it go as soon as his movement slowed.
Six people, all men, were flying with him, three rushed in as soon as he stabilized and hovered, his body upright for a moment. Tor swept his force lance over them, but nothing happened. So they had good shields? Probably ones he'd made. The newest in the line, that stopped force lances, but let you fly. Even the explosives he had wouldn't do anything to them, he didn't think. Except for the big one, but that would just kill. He'd have to out fly them then.
That was harder to do than it sounded. Whoever these guys were, obviously not regular soldiers, they were good. They worked as a team and after about four minutes managed to force Tor into the ground. That hurt, but not as much as it would have without his shield.
Screw that. They weren't forcing him out of his home. That was a mistake, because it was his. Tor tapped his Not-flyer and rose into the air, if only four inches. In the air those men were faster of course, but they wouldn't be able to do much to him if he stayed among the buildings, he didn't think. He kept blasting the men on the ground and screaming at them to leave as the flying men hovered jockeying for position. No one had even started to head towards the front gate yet.
OK.
Tor took a big breath and moved towards the front. He dug into his inner pants pocket and got one of the explosives out, then, without so much as hesitating, he blasted the right hand side of the front wall. It made a deafening roar and made the wall disappear into dust and pebbles. With a single slow sweeping motion from right to left he destroyed the front half in less than eleven seconds. Everyone froze.
“I said leave. What part of that don't you get? Do it now, or I start killing people. I am done playing games with you.” It was loud, but a growl for all that.
No one moved for a second, but then one man, the captain that had only one shoe now, but two feet, held up his hands and told everyone to move out. Tor moved so that his back was to the front wall of his hut, just under the eaves, so that the flyers couldn't catch him from behind easily. They were still hovering over him, too high up to hear him tell them to leave. He'd have to do something else about them. It took nearly an hour for them to all leave, or at least get out the gate. Some of them tried to take the transports, but Tor only let them have half of them. He personally owned half, he told them all clearly. Major Godfrey owned the other half. Since it was all they were getting they could deal with him for them if they wanted. Tor wasn't making them anymore. Not for the military. Not after the way they'd attacked him in his own home.
They didn't have near enough transports to carry everyone, but Tor didn't care. The flight training base was only about a fifty mile walk. They could follow the river that floated behind the compound to it. They deserved to walk. Maybe it would give them time to reflect on what they'd done? Probably not, people were generally too stupid to realize when they'd messed up, but that was up to them. Their failure to learn from experience wasn't his problem.
Staying hidden was the hard part, since it got boring, but the men hovering didn't move much, watching and waiting for him to make a mistake. It ticked him off. They were using his own devices against him. Finally he shrugged. Tor didn't want to murder anyone, but if they left him no choice, what could he do? He pulled the little metal piece that looked like a poison detector from around his neck and got ready to use it, pointing it up at the flyers and stepping out just as the transport flew into sight. It wasn't one of the ones that had been taken, because those were all out front being loaded. It hovered briefly, then set down just inside the gate, near the open portion of the front wall.
When the side opened, Rolph stepped out, his skin too dark and his hair a deep brown still. He looked like a military man, lacking his long red hair and normal light tan skin tone. Kolb, bald head shining stepped out, followed by Godfrey. They all looked around, their gazes slightly panicked. The one shoe wearing captain, a blond man Tor realized having actually missed that part before being distracted, his left leg still covered in dried blood ran over to them screaming something. This time it didn't sound nearly so manly. Kolb held up a single hand, but the man kept screaming anyway.
Rolph saw him and slowly walked over.
“Alright there Tor?” He asked, stopping about ten feet away. “Why do you have your poison detector out… Crap! Tor…”
Rolph knew what it meant as Tor pointed the device at the flying men and shrugged.
“Their shields are too good for anything else I have, and they won't leave. I'm making the military leave. They attacked me… First they wouldn't let me in to my own home, mocked me and threatened me. I could have let that go, but then they physically attacked me when I managed to make my own door to get in. I don't care if it's reasonable or not, they're going. Then they told me I didn't have a right to ask them to leave! Well, I've got the right for them if they really want it…” Taking a deep breath he pointed at one of the flying men and started to activate the device.
“Stop! God, please Tor, stop. No need to kill them… They'll go, see… They'll go!” He waved at them frantically to move off, but they didn't budge. They probably couldn't tell who the Prince was or even what he wanted really. A large man waving at them right now didn't hold a lot of interest for them it seemed.
“Kolb!” Rolph yelled. “Can you get your people to get them to move off, Tor's going to kill them all if they don't!”
The words weren't even all the way out of the Prince’s mouth when nearly twenty people appeared in the air and told the six military flyers to move on. Tor wanted to be angry at them for not having helped him earlier, but then he'd been the one to set up the chain of command and exclude anyone other than the royal family, hadn't he? Great, he'd handed an incredibly dangerous weapon to people that probably were going to use it against him, or at least attack him, for the second time in his life. He kind of deserved to die, didn't he?
Giving weapons like that to his enemies. Too stupid to live. Duh.
Though, come to think of it, Petra and the others had actually helped him out once that day already. When it had looked like a simple fight between him and a few men. They didn't back off until later, when it would have been them against the military without orders if they tried to help. So, no blaming them, not really. Tor sighed.
At least it worked for now. Kolb's people didn't even hurt them, just flew over calmly and explained, waved to Godfrey who nodded grimly, then they flew off, landing out front with the other men. Tor put the massive death weapon away, but pulled out one of the force lances. He wasn't standing around unarmed. Who knew what these monsters were going to try and do next? He waited while everyone else walked over. Godfrey looked half freaked and half pissed off, but Kolb just tilted his head. Tor grabbed the initiative.
“Your men barred me from my own home and then attacked me Godfrey. You all have to get out. Now. You aren’t welcome here anymore. Not if you’re going to do things like that. I don’t know what kind of orders you gave them, but this…” Tor growled softly. Menacingly.
While holding a better than decent force lance on the man. Ready to use it.
In return Godfrey told him that it was a military base and only the King could tell them they had to leave. Tor tilted his head at the man and then shrugged. He looked at Rolph, hoping for support from his old friend, knowing that it wasn't very likely. The Prince nodded slowly at Tor, agreeing with the Major. It was in his brown eyes, his face.
Well. If the Prince of the freaking realm said it wasn't his house any more, then it wasn't. It wasn't fair. It had been his. He'd built it. Well, his little hut. Others had built the rest, but they'd all said it was his place. A real home to call his own.
Crud. Rolph owned the land it was on and they didn't even have a real contract or anything. He'd said it was all right, but if a royal changed their mind, then it kind of became law. After a fashion at least. There was nothing someone like Tor could do about it anyway. Totally unfair. He looked at Rolph, feeling betrayed again. They were supposed to be friends, weren't they?
“Alright then. Just give me all the devices that the kingdom hasn't paid for, and I'll leave. You can freaking have it.” Tor was breathing hard and Rolph looked off into the distance.
“What hasn't been paid for?” The Major looked baffled and sounded confused as if he really didn't know. Kind of an oversight, since he ran a base that basically ran on things he'd built.
Tor just smiled. Really they hadn't paid for anything. Some of the shields and flying rigs, but not even most of those. None of the building gear or transports at all. Or the rivers that provided water. They hadn't signed a contract with him either. They could try to keep it all, he guessed, what was he going to do if they decided to? Take on the entire Noram military? That wouldn't work he knew. Too many of them were too well armed and shielded, at least until he developed a way to remove their devices from them, or destroy the fields at a distance. He could do it. It hadn't occurred to him before, but really, that was within the bounds of what could be managed. The devices were all on physical objects. A thrill of excitement ran through him then. All he had to do was create a field that used feedback to locate a certain kind of field and then destroy the metal, wood or stone it was on. It wouldn't even be that hard. In an instant most of it sprang into his mind.
Rolph didn't touch him, but did wave a hand in front of his face. Tor started and then grinned.
“Sorry, I just figured out how to take out all the magical devices in a given area. Selectively or even just anything magical at all. So yeah, go ahead and steal my home, try and take my work without paying for it, we'll see how that works out for you all…” Tor went into his hut and started packing.
He couldn't take everything with him, lacking space in his luggage, so he started tucking all the amulets into cases and making sure the boxes were flight ready, then he took his clothing, toiletries and such. The follow along floats wouldn't navigate the stairs or the hallway, a winding stone privacy screen with three switchbacks, so Tor had to carry them all on his own. Each trunk weight hundreds of pounds, except the clothing one, so he had to drag them out. It took a long time to get the six trunks he wanted. He had the rivers for Afrak ready to go and their excavating equipment, as well as his chest of gold, and another couple just filled with amulets of nearly twenty different sorts. The rest of them, well there were thousands of things in there still. He didn't want them stolen by the military… They seemed to like stealing his things for some reason. Them and the King.
He'd stolen his fiancee away. He didn't even want her for himself, it was just to punish him or make some weird kind of point to someone.
Tor mentioned this in a dead sounding voice as he lifted in the air. Pulling out one of the explosive weapons, a smaller one on a brass tube, cheap compared to normal weapons which were put on solid silver as a rule, but just as effective. Actually a lot more effective… Rising into the air with his cases following, thanks to the floats on them, he pointed the weapon.
“I'd get away if I were you.” He said darkly.
“Tor! No! I have stuff in there, so do Sara and Ursala. It's not fair to destroy their stuff, even if you're mad at me and dad…” The Prince sounded scared. Right well, girls did liked stuff, didn't they?
“Fine. Then all the amulets…” What could he do with them? The military couldn't have them and no one else around here was trustworthy enough to keep them out of their hands. Well, no one that would be able to stand up to the army at least. Petra would have been a good choice, but she had to do what Kolb said, which was what the King ordered. For that matter he did as well, that whole pesky knighthood thing. He could have said no and not knelt, but he had, so he was honor bound to do what Richard said too. But only if he heard it. From now on, Tor just wouldn't listen, that was all. Sorlee Farmer would have been fine, but Tor didn't think that she'd know she could tell the military to leave her stuff alone. If they asked for it she'd probably just hand it over without even requesting to be paid. That's what you did when powerful people wanted your stuff, right? It was kind of what powerful meant.
His family in Two Bends? They didn't need the money, now that their quick delivery service had taken off and it would probably just track the military to their door. Who did he know that he didn't care about that would at least make some money from it? It hit him like a ton of bricks. There actually was someone like that.
“Fine then… Everything of mine in there, take it and give it to Dorgal Sorvee. Tell him that half the proceeds are to go to Meredith Sorvee directly, he can keep the rest. I can count on you to do that much, can't I?” Tor asked, his voice suddenly sad instead of bitter as he had intended it to be.
After all, Rolph had been his best friend. For him to have helped betray him like this, to take away his home…
“Sorvee… Tor, you hate that guy! More than once I've heard you say that you wished you could test your new devices on him or his bully friends…”
“Yeah, he's a jerk, abusive and sarcastic for no reason, using his intelligence as a weapon rather than to help people. But notice, as far as I know, he's never actually tried to destroy my life and then hide it from me. He's an ass, but he never hid that from me or worked against me in secret pretending to be my friend, did he? You all knew. Your dad was the one that told Trice to do it, made her, and Connie… I told her I had feelings for her and she hide this from me? Am I the biggest joke ever or what? Varley, Karina… you. No one told me. Instead you all made Trice eat my anger for all that time alone. I nearly killed her over that Rolph. I don't know if she ever liked me at all, or if it was all just following orders, but that's still too much to heap on her. Sara and Ursala too. All of you kept me in the dark and let me go on hating Trice, when she didn't even have a choice in the matter. Why?” Tears came to his eyes then. “I was actually happy you know. For once in my life I was happy, even though I knew the whole thing was only a joke to her. A girl actually willing to spend time with me and not tear me down and you all took that away from me. Screw it, do whatever you like, you royals always do anyway!”
Tor took off then, in a direction. He didn't know where he was going or why really, but staying here wasn't an option. Tears streamed back, after they dripped off his face enough to leave the shield. Well, he realized after a while. That was done. No one would want him back now. That was fine. He didn't need them anyway.
After all, he could be alone… alone.
He didn't need other people for that. No one did. If they weren't his friends, well, he wished them luck and decided not to even destroy all the things he made for the military or anything. That was as non-petty as he could manage right now, but it would have to do.
He flew for hours, just following the coast line once he hit it. Tor thought he was going east at least. Oh well. As good a direction as any, right? He kept going until it started getting dark, the edge of the world growing first pink as clouds caught the sun, a stark line of them against the light blue, then a darker line of blue-black behind it. Looking at it he felt small and insignificant for a while, until he looked down and realized that he'd hit another ocean. Tor blinked and shook his head. Well, that made his decision for him didn't it? If he kept going, the only thing under him would be water for thousands of miles. The air was humid from the damp expanse in front of him, but Tor didn't mind. He wasn't feeling the heat at least.
Looking around he saw a city to the north, close enough that he might be able to reach it before nightfall if he hurried. Maybe he could get something to eat? Even worked up as he still was, hunger had finally started to call to him. It had been a day since he'd eaten, or near enough at least. That long since he had water too, he realized, thirst suddenly ripping at his throat with the attention. He flew faster towards the early lights in homes, seen through the windows.
Like many of the cities he'd gone to, this one had a large clearing in the middle. Instead of a central square, this place had a park with manicured grass and funny looking tall plants, about twenty five feet high with leaves like giant fingers at the top, spread in greeting. So friendly trees at least.
Tor waved back.
No need for him to be rude after all.
The trunks looked smooth and bare of green, except for the lines that ran around them every foot or so. Tor settled by the edge, hoping that it wasn't against the rules to land here. Things like that varied from place to place. There were people and they looked at him, but smiled in a way that felt friendly, a few even waved to him. Possibly inspired by the trees?
Almost all of them wore simple clothing, made of a light, airy looking material. Most, but not all, of the women wore white dresses that flew outward as they spun, not rising high enough to show more than leg. Mainly at least. A few had darker flashes showing in the more athletic moves. People smiled at him and called out hello, so he waved back to them too. It certainly seemed to be a friendly enough place.
A man wearing light blue clothing and a funny hat that looked like a helmet, who had a club on his right hip, walked over to Tor, also smiling.
“Stranger! We don't have a lot of people flying in these days, do you need directions any place…” His voice tapper off. “You're covered with blood! Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor… or anything?”
Tor looked down. It was dried blood, brown and crusty, but blood none the less. Ah. He should probably explain before this guy flipped out and called in a team of surgeons or something.
“It's not mine. I cut the foot off a man that attacked me earlier, he's a Noram kingdom soldier, I got the blood on me when I put it back on.” Tor lifted a hand as the man stiffened. “That sounds bad, but I cut the foot off by accident and I did fix it, so that should count for something right? He has both feet now and they work fine. I managed to heal it.” His voice sounded just a bit desperate, but, oh well, he was telling the truth. He couldn't think of anything else to do.
The man laughed, either thinking Tor was joking or that anyone that would both cut off and then repair a man’s foot was worth chuckling over. After a few seconds Tor joined in, probably sounding just a little maniacal. It was a good point. Who did that anyway? Not anyone that was being sane and reasonable. Finally several other people walked over, most with deep brown skin that reminded him a little of his friend Petra and her mom, Ellen.
“Ah! So, did you come for our festival then? If your dressed like this, flying, and claiming to have been fighting Noram soldiers… Let me guess, you must be Torrence Baker? Here to save us all maybe?”
Tor blinked.
“Um, yes… how did you know?”
The man laughed again, and so did all the people that had gathered around. It would have been intimidating, except that half of them were still dancing. A woman that was only about four inches taller than he was danced over, following the beat of the drums from an instrumental band across the grass.
“Look everyone! It's the Wizard Tor!” The woman bowed slightly and handed him a cup with something in it. At first he was going to refuse, not drinking alcohol himself, but it smelled like fruit punch. Digging out his poison detector to the laugh of the crowd, he waved it over the cup, nothing happened, so he took a sip. It was just juice, but tasted nothing like anything he'd ever had before. He asked what it was quietly, which got another laugh.
“Ah! Right, Master Tor wouldn't know that, would he? It's pineapple mixed with the milk of a coconut. I have to say, you're really going all out for this aren't you? Even flying in like that! Truly an event worth remembering.” The woman said, putting her hands on his shoulders and dancing a bit, looking around Tor got what everyone else was doing, handed off his drink, and put his hands on her hips, then tried to copy it. People laughed again, but most started dancing.
He didn't get it, not at all. If he told fifty people his name, no one would jump to him being, well, him. They'd just think he had a similar name to the guy that built stuff. Really it had happened to him over and over already in the Capital. These people had guessed without even being told anything and even knew that Tor was named Torrence Baker. There were less than a hundred people in the kingdom that knew that. Most of those related to him. He'd thought that was the case at least. These people seemed to know all about him.
“Um, where exactly am I?” He asked, his voice carrying as the music suddenly stopped and people bowed all around him.
“You're in Warden, Master Tor.” A female voice behind him said simply, not unkindly, but not chuckling at him either.
When he turned he saw her, even taller than the last time, standing next to her eight foot plus tall Count. Maria Ward.
“Oh.” He said brilliantly. “Of course I am.”