Tor just waited, not even bothering to try and fly off. Obviously if he flew directly to the stronghold of his worst enemies, there was a reason for it. Maybe they'd kill him and put him out of his, and their, misery? That seemed like a good enough reason, truth to tell. The woman that had been dancing with him giggled. Then she did a double and then a triple take at the scene.
“Wait, you're the real Tor? Not just a boy in a costume? I…” She stepped back and bowed low. A lot of the people around her followed suit for a bit.
Count Ward wasn't just a giant, but fantastic looking too. Dark skin, shining white teeth and ebony hair. Tor would have felt jealous if he wasn't too busy wondering who was going to try and attack him first. Maria smiled at him, ducking her head slightly for a second, a move that seemed almost shy, then she surprised the hell out of him, by bowing. The Count bowed too. Shrugging first, Tor returned the gesture with a grin. This was different. Well, if they wanted to pretend to politeness before lynching him or waiting for whatever poison they put in the juice to take effect, he could play along, right?
Maria sank to her knees, trapping her skirt, a plain white cotton thing like most of the rest of the women had on, under her demurely. Hands on her thighs she bowed low. Very low. It didn't look comfortable at all. Her head actually touching the ground then rose to speak, just ever so slightly, not looking at him.
“I didn't know if you would come. Honestly no one thought you would… Let me start by apologizing.” She bowed deeper still, and didn't rise or look up at him at all for a few moments, forehead to grass. The silence grew until even the whispers of the crowed breathing started to quiet.
“I was cruel to you, who didn't deserve it. I took your heart felt gift and invitation as a spurning from someone else, and acted without grace. Then in my anger and later fear, I maligned your good name. This makes it sound so minor, but… I know it wasn't. I talked to Patricia Morgan about it often and learned things about you that I didn't know at the time…” She took a deep breath one that sound half like a sob. When she started speaking again it was obvious that she'd started crying.
“How… how my words damaged you and made you think that you were worthless, even as you helped other people and saved lives. How even now you think that you aren't worthy of being loved… because… because of me.” If her crying was fake, she was a master of it, Tor realized. Real tears glistened on her cheeks and her breath caught realistically as she rose just slightly. Not perfectly, but like a person that was actually crying might.
She kept talking after a moment, even though Tor couldn't think of anything else she could possibly add.
“And then… In my rage over what happened with Ursala Thorgood, I… accidentally set something in motion, which led directly to your being poisoned. I didn't mean for that to happen! You have to believe me in this, all I intended was for you to be frightened, but my friends went overboard out of love for me. I take full responsibility and offer you…” She swallowed dramatically, it was well timed enough that even Tor could tell this part was an act.
“My life.”
The audience gasped.
Tor waited. After about twenty seconds she looked up, her eyes still moist and looking far too lovely for someone that was supposed to be heartbroken over their horrible misdeeds. He had to respond though, so he nodded. She kept watching him, so after a few seconds he shrugged and stuck his tongue out at her. The Counts face clouded for a second, but Maria just looked down, then back up, smiling demurely.
“Right, so you all know I don't kill people as a rule, so this little game is just to make you look good? Don't worry, I've already let go of the whole poisoning thing, at least as far as I go. But the others, the Thorgood's, Ursala's child, Karen Derring… I won't forgive those at all and I really don't think anyone else will either… It's not a good situation you know?” It was all she was getting from him. Those people were his friends, and there were others that had died, some he never met, servants and grandmothers, innocent people caught in the cross fire.
“But, we didn't do that.” The Count said in his deep voice, deeper even than Tovey's. “Yes, we admit that the attacks on you were our fault. Wait-” He held a hand up to Maria who'd started to say the blame was hers alone. “No dear heart, I could see what was happening at the time and should have put a stop to it. It was clear that your hurt feelings towards Alphonse were an overreaction to very normal things and your treatment of Master Tor bordered on insane.” He smiled when Maria bristled a little.
“What? It was, and you know it. So he stopped me and the Prince from fighting? Well good! I was being crude and deserved a thrashing and even if I'd won that particular altercation, what good would it have done me? Ursala was pregnant and I should have done more for her. Yes, she should have taken better steps to prevent it, but that was no excuse… Plus… and, well, I know you were feeling poorly after seeing the Prince, but taking it out on this man was wrong. I should have stood up for him with you more often.” The large man turned to Tor and bowed.
“The attacks on you were my own fault, but I swear by my blood and breath that neither I nor my lady had any part in the attempts on anyone else's lives, nor did we intend lethal harm to you at any point.” He held the bow.
Tor shrugged.
“Well, you look a bit guilty. For instance, what's with the war against a whole kingdom if your innocent? Most people that are innocent say things like “hey, we didn't do it” not, “we declare war” kind of, well, a poor move if you really are innocent, don’t you think?”
The Count straightened and sighed, then put out a hand to Maria, who took it but didn't rise. Instead she found Tor’s eyes and held them.
“If I may rise sir?”
“Um, sure? Why couldn't you?” Tor said, knowing it sounded a little dumb. Ah well. If the worst thing that happened today was him sounding stupid… Well, really, he reflected, a wave of bitterness passing through him, too late for that, wasn't it?
Maria rose smoothly and gracefully. If not for their history it would have seemed lovely to him, he knew. Then he'd asked her out in the first place because she was cute. Probably too good looking for someone like him, since he was a bit of a troll he knew. Ah well. Thinking for a moment Tor shrugged, which felt helpless and more than a little dull witted. Then he sighed hugely, seeking his own dramatic effect.
“Right, so if you really didn't do it, who did? And more to the point, can we prove it before the invasion force comes and takes out tens of thousands of innocent people? Do you two have any idea as to who it was?” It was a long shot, but maybe they'd have something to go on.
Strangely they both nodded.
“Laval.” Maria said shortly, through her teeth. “He wasn't normal at all. When we heard about the attack on the Queen’s day celebration we knew it had to be him, so we… Well, we'd been hosting him hadn't we? Everyone here suspected that he'd gone after you those times, but he was here when the big poisoning took place, so we knew it couldn't be him, right?” She gestured around and one or two people in the crowd nodded.
One man stepped forward from behind a table with food and drink on it off to the side, slightly closer to the band then they stood.
“It's true my lord, I mean Master Tor sir. He was at the Postern celebration here in this very section the whole night. Near on twenty people talked to him, danced and ate with him too, he was here.”
The man was dressed like everyone else, but seemed older than most of the others, gray haired and slightly heavier. Not fat, just like he'd been well muscled when younger, and now had gone a little softer.
Well, at least he hadn't turned into a stick like Tor had.
“But,” The Count said quietly. “That's why we declared war. We knew that we couldn't prove any of that and when we heard of the attackers on Queen’s day, we knew that they'd run a line directly to our door, so we took a firm stand first. It was my idea. I should have just gone to the King and thrown myself on his mercy instead. Better my head than the blood of my people on my hands.” His head drooped and his expression looked truly sad. Maria took his hand gently.
“We… We've decided to turn ourselves in, which is why we invited you to come. We didn't know if it would be now of course, but people knew to expect you, we've placed pictures of you all over town. Only…” She pointed at his face. “We didn't know about the beard originally. It makes you look quite fierce and manly however. We had to color in all the pictures when we heard, it wasn't well done I have to say…”
The woman he'd been dancing with touched his arm gently.
“Please sir… don't let them be killed. They're good people. I know that things look bad for them, but I swear, they're both innocent of what's been said about them!”
Then both the Count and his Countess, dressed in their white party outfits, with blue belts for the men and red for the women, mainly, knelt again, still holding hands. The Count lowered his head.
“We are in your custody sir.” He said loudly enough that everyone could hear him in the whole square. A little slow on the uptake Tor finally got it. He was being loud so that no one would stop him from taking them? Or… Tor looked around and saw people watching, but no one taking action. So probably not a trap then? One by one they all started kneeling too.
Right, like he could take anyone in? He wasn't a guard or even in the military. Or, for that matter, in good with the King right now even. If he ever had been.
“Ah, well, might as well get up everyone. The first thing we need to do is call this stupid war off then. Sorry Count Ward, but out of everything that was the worst move made so far. And I say this as a guy you've both admitted nearly getting killed, so you know I'm not saying it lightly. We can fix that part though. I think. Is there somewhere we can work on it, without ruining everyone's party I mean? I guess I can run it back in the morning, if you want. Though things…” Well, to stop a war, Tor could suck up his own hard feelings, couldn't he? It had to be done, even if he felt like a moron doing it.
After they got up the Wards led him back to their house, large, a palace nearly as big as what the King had, but open to the public, at least as far as the grounds went. Hard to tell in the dark. No wall around it at all. In fact, what he'd thought of as a park, turned out to be their garden.
Only about one in ten of the people there were people that worked for them. Most were just people that came for the party, everyone was welcomed it seemed. Why they were doing this instead of getting ready for the invasion he didn't know, but he was careful not to ask either. If he was supposed to make peace somehow, then he couldn't allow himself to be used as a spy, even by accident. Noram had too many people well versed in intrigue for him to take chances or say the wrong thing.
As they walked he told them about the events of the day to pass the time. They gasped in the appropriate places, as if he were telling a story to amuse or entertain them, instead of going over how badly things could suddenly go around him. He did not look forward to trying to deliver the letter the next day, but stopping a war was far more important than him looking good or even avoiding prison for beating up several hundred people. It sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but Maria put a hand on his shoulder.
“That is so… I apologize once again Sir Torrence. I've done you more damage and harm than should be borne by anyone and you ready yourself to go off and make peace for us, who have done you no good turn ever? I…” She started crying again, which got the Count to comfort her with some awkward looking pats on the back. Too bad he couldn't have met this Maria first. She actually seemed halfway likable, if a little over the top with the fake dramatics. She was trying at least, and right now that counted for a lot with him.
Tor assumed they were fake at least. He kind of had to. But as long as they weren't trying to play him for a fool and use him in their war somehow, he could live with that. He'd even put up with the crying. Really, Petra had told him several times that Maria was a bitch, and so had Collette Coltress, but she seemed all right so far. Maybe she was only normally mean to women? He'd met a few people like that at school. For instance Dorgal Sorvee was really only mean to the scholarship kids, and mainly that was only really Tor, come to think of it. He was polite enough to everyone else. Maybe it was something like that?
When they got into the house, the luggage followed them, much to the fascination of the Count, he stared openly at the cases as if it were something amazing and not just a different form of the flying field. Just inside the door Tor hit the amulet under his shirt, which turned the follow along field off. Really it was just the signal that got turned off, but that wasn't a real point, the cases all had to be turned off one by one if he wanted them to set down. These were his new ones, so when activated they rose about eighteen inches into the air on their own and sank slowly when shut off. They landed one at a time with a little clunk on the pale wooden floor.
Pointing, the Count, Martin, Tor knew from Petra, the man's youngest sibling, asked how much they cost.
“The follow along lifts? Oh, no one is really making them yet, except me. Dorgal Sorvee has some he might part with soon, but, I just gave him a load of stuff today, I don't know what the price will be. I have a few extra sets though, if you want them? I have some other stuff too… Um, let's leave off on any military gear for a bit though, until we can at least get the war stopped, this one at least?”
Maria looked at him hopefully.
“So you believe us? That we didn't attack the Queen or poison all those people?” She sounded young and a little like she was playing him for effect. He got it, but that didn't mean they were guilty. Tor decided to just be honest.
“Not really. There's a lot of evidence showing guilt, still, if you are innocent then we need to prove it and if you're guilty and trying to play me, well, if it stops a war, then play away. I know what’s coming here, I made most of it, and really, if you're not working directly with the Austrans and don't have a large amount of super weapons laying around in secret… Well, I don't think your County will survive. I've tried to keep my contributions non-lethal, but with something like forty thousand people coming at you with class five shields, air chokes and the new force lances, they don't have to be turned off, like the ones I told you about earlier? Ten thousand or more people with Not-flyers coming over land, or even water, at eighty miles an hour and all of them out for blood… well, I'm not going to ask what you have, in case they try to force me to tell later, but it seems that stopping this peacefully is the best course by far. Even if it means we all end up dead ourselves.”
Stiffly, Maria nodded, with tears in her eyes.
Well what did they expect? They declared war! That simply did not look friendly. Tor tried to think of something that would seem more like a declaration of guilt to everyone in Noram and couldn't. If they'd said, “ha ha, we attacked you good” in a letter to the King it would only seem as guilty, not more. Tor had them sit down and write out the whole thing themselves, explaining everything, then sign it in front of him. He wrote a line saying that this was written by them in front of him personally, without duress, and had them initial it.
Then he wrote his own letter and got them to sign that they read it as well. Neither of them liked what he said much, but both put their signatures to it. It was more than a little surly and pissy on his part, but as he mentioned to them, he was tired and already knew that he wasn't getting any sleep that night. He couldn't rest there after all. Maria seemed hurt when he said that, looking around as if he was saying their place wasn't good enough for him, that made him laugh out loud. Really laugh. He had to cover his mouth and tried to explain since she looked very put upon about the whole thing.
“Oh, no, it's not that, I normally live in a single room focus stone shack with three other people, this place is great. Really at least as nice as the King’s palace itself in a lot of ways, which reminds me Martin…” He hadn't used the counts name before, he was older than Tor by at least twenty years, but he didn't blink at it now, so they were either friends or the man really just didn't care about titles that much.
“Take better care of your mother and sister will you?” Tor held up his right hand, it was a tired half wave. “I know, Petra has her own life now and all that, but seriously, that house your mom's in needs major work. It has a wall now, to keep the lizards out, and should be a little more comfortable, but the furniture all needs to be replaces due to mold damage and she should have servants other than just Georges.”
Tor kind of expected to be yelled at then, but the Count simply nodded, giving a small seated bow and Maria looked down at the table, a shame filled expression on her face.
“That's all my fault. I've never gotten along with Petra, not since, well, you know. I deserved it, being beaten for saying those things to you. I can't deny that now, but it set things in motion in a bad way, so I've been cruel to her. I should have tried harder to fix that but… No, that's wrong. I should have tried fixing it at all, I never really did. I promise I will and that we'll make sure Ellen is taken care of.” She smiled gently.
Nodding his head for a second Tor remembered something Rolph had said to him once. Someone had just attacked him at the time and he was blaming Captain Wensa of the Royal Guard. The Prince had checked with his parents in the Capital not just to make sure they hadn't tried to have him killed, but that no one had said to “take care of Tor” meaning they wanted him to get hugs and tucked in at night, only to have that misconstrued as “kill him now”.
At least the other two laughed when he told them about the whole thing, then apologized again, since Maria had already admitted that she had put Laval up to that attack on him. One of them at least.
That settled, Tor asked if they could plan to stay in their capital for the next few weeks or so, in case he needed to find them in order to take them off to trial or execution or something like that. It was morose humor, but they agreed, as long as he promised to make certain their people weren't harmed. Well. If they wanted to trick him into helping them, that was the way to his heart. Being willing to sacrifice themselves to save their friends and charges… Yeah, that touched him more than a little.
Tor took off before even false dawns light.
He hadn't eaten which burned at his gut a little, but he'd been hungry before in life and probably would be again. He'd live. Tor just wasn't going to sleep in Warden. If they were trying to set a trap, it wouldn't pay to make it too easy on them, would it?
The flight back felt like it took longer, and probably did, since he'd gone off course pretty badly, ending up flying north at least several hundred miles before daylight came and let him make corrections. As tempted as he was to simply fly straight to the palace, it was forbidden to fly in the city still. Apparently in the first weeks the flyers made their in-town debut, several young nobles had decided that racing as fast as possible through the city streets, about five feet from the ground, made for an interesting game. They had shields after all, so what could go wrong? None of them had been hurt, though several others had been.
One a child who's back had been broken. It didn't seem likely the boy would ever walk again. Tor wondered if he could help fix that with a healing device. If not, would a Not-flyer be able to help the boy get around?
Maybe. He'd have to check on that situation if he ever got the chance. The flying rigs were his invention and he'd personally made the ones that had harmed the boy, he didn't doubt. It would only be right to try and help if possible. Make sure he was either fixed or would never want for anything. Both if possible. Tor sighed. It was always something wasn't it? He was tired and desperately wanted to just curl up and sleep, but knew he couldn't. This was too important to put off, just for his own comfort. What if the attack were already set and his nap made him too late to stop it? No, he had to keep going. No matter what.
The main city gates were open, but guarded when he got there, the morning guard saw him and just waved. Small guy with floating luggage, that pretty much had to be him, right? That or the guard didn't care as long as he wasn't committing a crime. Either way worked for him. At least he hadn't been banned from the city yet. Probably. It could be that the guy on duty just couldn't be bothered to stop him or hadn't looked at the papers that told him not to let any builders in if they were too short or something.
The trip through the city was always a trick. It was early still, most shops were just opening, some of them smelling very good, but again, stopping wasn't in the picture, as hungry as he was. If he messed this up and people died, it would be on him. And the Wards.
Mostly them, but right now was his part, not theirs. It took nearly an hour to get to the palace gate, and from the bell clock in town he could tell it was nine in the morning. It may have been too early to visit. Then again, he wouldn't know unless he tried, would he? He looked a mess still, covered in dried blood, teeth needing to be brushed and hair desperately wanting both a washing and brushing. The only positive was that, since growing a beard he never looked like he had two days growth going on any more.
For once he didn't even get to the gate guard house before the main gate opened. Standing in the center of it was Richard Cordes himself. The King. Tor raised an eyebrow as the man took several steps forward. He tried at least. Both eyebrows going up at the same time, probably looking shocked instead of skeptical.
“Well at least this time you came to tell me to buzz off yourself. This isn't a social call. I have documents for you and Connie to look at. I mean the Queen. Prince Alphonse Cordes too, if he's around, I'd guess, and any counts, advisors or intelligent stable boys you have in this place that want to listen in.” Tor waited as the King stiffened slightly and looked like he'd just been punched in the balls. The idea very nearly made Tor smile, since he could literally do that with an uppercut on the giant. If he could get close enough. For some reason the King didn't say anything, just led him into the palace with a simple hand gesture and a stilted turn. It made Tor wonder if commandos were about to pop from the walls again. True, last time it had been Smythe of Westend behind that, but the man was still walking free. After all, trying to kill Tor didn't count as far as the law went. Literally, he realized, at least at the level these people played. No law said they couldn't kill him.
Rich asked Tor to sit in the meeting room, it was one that had a large table, an extremely ugly oval one that probably cost more than some entire families made in a year. Focus stone would have been both cheaper and more durable, as well as nicer looking. Except that he hadn't created the process to make it when this table had been made. From the sense of its field he wondered if his mother had even been born then. Tor sat at the far end of the table, not the head of it, he didn't think, the opposite position. The guest chair, so to speak.
If they'd fed him, he'd have to look out for poison for sure.
It took a long time for anyone to come and then they all showed up at once, a long stream of stiff looking people. Probably all pissed at him for being rude and beating up those men just because he got mad. The King and Queen led them, followed by Rolph, the Princesses, Ursala and Holly, Tovey and Smythe of Westend. Tor didn't get up. He was too tired and a little too pissed at most of these people for one reason or another. Not Holly, and possibly not Tovey. That was it. When they sat down Tor flicked the first letter down the table, a sliding toss, it didn't even get half way there, but Ursala grabbed it, looking at him as if he was trying to steal the palace silver and passed it down the table, until it got to Richard, who broke the red wax seal on it and opened it very slowly, taking a deep breath.
It was clear he read it more than once.
It got passed around the top of the table, which was a tradition, he thought, having seen it before, but then the King took it back and stood.
“Well. That's rather different than what I expected I must say. Tor's been to Warden and both the Wards have agreed to declare the war over and admit it as a grave mistake on their part, and give full apologies for their error, then they include why this happened, what led to their mistake, claim that they were not behind the attack two weeks ago and further that they were not behind the mass poisoning that killed so many. Some names are listed…” Richard looked at the paper again.
“Tor I notice that your name isn't listed on here?”
“They admitted that they caused my poisoning to happen. They claim it wasn't what they intended, but they also said that they had me attacked the first time, the guy dressed like Wensa? Maria said she meant that one.” Tor didn't say anything else, because Ursala and Holly both started shouting.
It was hard to understand, but it came down to how they couldn't let things rest there. The language was a good bit harsher than that and had some name calling, but that's about what they were getting at, Tor thought.
The King nodded.
“Nor apparently do the Wards think it should. They both say that their willing to surrender themselves into Tor's personal custody and in fact already have, to stand fair trial. Their only concern is that it be a truly fair hearing, if I read between the lines correctly, not just a show to excuse killing them. Tor it says here that you witnessed them write this with their own hands and sign it without duress? Then you had them initial that as well? Very thorough.”
That was the case, so he nodded. Prince Alphonse Cordes rolled his eyes a little and started listing off all the ways that Tor, innocent that he was, could have been fooled or taken advantage of. Especially in the state he was currently in. Tor threw the second letter at him, which also didn't get halfway down the table. It got passed to Rolph, since Tor pointed at him rudely, who opened, read it several times and started laughing out loud. Instead of passing this one around he just started reading it to everyone.
“Ahem. To whom it may concern: Of course they're probably lying about this, but everyone deserves a fair trial don't you think? Maria keeps over-acting and trying to use her tears to influence me, as if that could matter at all. But if Count Ward is acting, he's the best I've ever seen, and we should get him to tour with a group of maskers or players, instead of doing this silly ruling thing he has going on. Still, they claim they didn't do most of what they're accused of. If that's the case, we need to know it before a bunch of innocent people get killed. Then he signed it “Tor, who's not as gullible as you think, which you should know by now, Rolph.” and had both the Wards put a witness statement at the bottom. Which he initialed. Heh. Funny, but kind of cold Tor, making them sign it like that.”
So, Tor told them, after he got a place to stay and cleaned up, he'd come back and they could work out the particulars of the trial itself.
“We'll have your room made up in the guest house…” The Queen said, lifting her right hand.
Tor shook his head, “No, thank you. I'll find someplace on my own if it's all the same. Given everything I have no doubt that Smythe at least is going to try and have me killed again. Who knows what the rest of you are going to do. The only thing I know is that it won't likely be to my benefit. It hardly ever is where you royals are concerned.”
Yeah, it was surly, dark and probably slightly unfair to some of them, but he could hardly think still, too tired and without rest the reaction to the combat rage lingered still, worse Smythe sat alternating between glaring and looking smug.
It was annoying.
Smythe's right hand came up from under the table suddenly and pointed at Tor, a roaring blast of pain washed over him, along with a blinding light. He didn't move, but a small scream escaped his lips. There was yelling then, but Tor couldn't understand it. Finally it occurred to him to try and hide under the table. The room had gone black, but from the pain in his eyes Tor was pretty sure he was just blind. Darn. It wasn't a partial blindness either, the room was gone totally. His eyes burned and felt funny, wet and sticky, as he forced himself to crawl along under the table. He couldn't really run, could he? What could he do?
He tried to feel the fields in the room and located where Smythe was. Kind of a desperation move really. He was working his way down the room towards him, wearing a shield that was one of Tor's own.
“Sire, he must be stopped for the good of the kingdom. I told you all how dangerous he was, but no one would listen to me!” The man yelled as he walked along, the device he held ready to be activated.
Tor could almost draw the picture in his mind. Of course nothing he had would go through the man's shield, not without killing them all. Now if he had the Counselor’s weapon… Tor laughed, a deep, low chuckle, which made Smythe stop moving for a second. The field Tor wanted to make was basically just a cutter, only formed across the man’s right wrist, inside the shield space. It would take a minute or two though, of course. Even if he managed to do better than he ever had before. While already blind, scared and in pain? Simple, no doubt.
So he needed to buy time.
“Westend?” Tor said while crawling. Keeping his focus solid he turned and crawled in the other direction. Everyone else scattered of course, but then what could they do? They wouldn't have anything that Tor didn't. “Seriously? I mean, what did I ever do to you? Oh, wait, I get it. Of course…”
The older man tried to suddenly attack, but Tor felt it coming and moved before the blast could catch him, rolling over his left shoulder in a somersault. It worked well enough for this kind of fight at least, but he'd hate to try and fly this way. If the blindness was permanent he could cope and still even work, but it wouldn't be fun. It made him glad he'd taken time to appreciate the sunset the day before. Freaking insane Westend hadn't even warned him first.
“You attacked me even after I gave you the super-explosive before, and now you attack after I bring news that the civil war might be ended without bloodshed. Why would anyone do that? I can only think of the one reason… It's because you're an Austran agent, isn't it?” Tor had to roll again then, the new pain weapon catching him in the leg as he moved, he needed a bit more time, somehow…
“Right, of course that's it, your Austran masters have been planning this for a long time, haven't they? Years at least, to get you into place. Smythe of Westend? What kind of name is that supposed to be anyway? Tellerand? Yeah, they probably got you as an orphan or at least a young child, probably bought you from a whorehouse or something, then trained you to blend in here… That make sense. The only problem being that they forgot one crucial thing…” Tor held the focus and felt the whole thing began to gain the needed power.
“In Noram… we use magic.” It came out as a growl.
The field sunk home and there was a sudden clunking sound of a hand holding a silver weapon hitting the floor. Tor focused on the field as tightly as he could manage. He crawled to it as Smythe started to whimper. Not that it would hurt, but his hand was gone, which had emotional impact.
Tor found it and pried the metal piece from the grasping fingers, the whole thing slightly slick from the action of his brushing the bloody part by mistake. Sensing fields was fuzzier than seeing after all. Standing Tor walked carefully over to the military leader. Facing him the man made a keening sound.
“Yeah, I'm blind thanks to you. Don't worry, your joining me in the dark now, so I won't feel alone long.” Triggering the weapon he heard and felt Smythe scream and after a few moments fall, then begin to writhe on the floor. Tor didn't stop and decided not to until the field cut out. The air around him had grown cold, icy even, the weapon taking energy directly from the environment itself. And from him.
Westend still lived, but wasn't doing much, probably trying to stop the bleeding of his stump. He could have felt bad for the man, but decided not to. Instead he focused as hard as he could, found the amulet around the man’s neck and triggered it, turning it off.
That, of course, was the problem of attacking him while wearing work Tor had created. He owned it, in a very real sense. It was always his, no matter who copied the field or who wore it. The design was a part of him, made from his own field. If he could focus enough, he could turn it off. Then he could do… anything.
In this case the order of the day was stomping. It wasn't very precise, but then that wasn't his fault, he was blind. Shoe leather struck flesh over and over again, but the guy kept breathing. Tor pointed the weapon in his hand again. A short blast came out of the end.
Then Tor woke up somewhere else. It was still black.
Wonderful.
Under him the bed was soft, the blankets too, so not the floor of the room, and he lived, which hadn't been guaranteed. Still blind though… that was kind of annoying. Dropping into a work state, Tor tried to rebuild his eyes. It took a long time, and he felt himself fed occasionally, and thought he fell asleep several times, the field always getting weaker when he did, which is how he knew it happened at all. Finally, days later, he opened his eyes, and saw something. It was dark, but he could see a slightly brighter patch coming from around the door in front of him. After a while he got up and opened it, the world flooded with light, bright light, too bright to see really.
He adjusted, if throwing an arm over his eyes while trying not to see counted as that, and noticed the guard standing outside the door. Clear, but a little blurry. Probably just his eyes not being used to the light yet. On the other side, to the left, there was another. Crap. He hadn't even considered that Smythe might have been acting on orders. Tor was defenseless, weak from the attack and the work he'd done. Plus these were Royal Guards. He probably couldn't have taken one in a fight on the best day of his life, even if he got the drop on them. Not without weapons. As it was they both turned around when he stepped into the hall.
“Right, so, am I prisoner or not?” He asked, just waiting for an answer.
If he was, well, he'd fight of course, even if he was going to lose. Then again, if he went back to the room, he could make a cutter and get himself free. Or possibly a shield, if he found something to attach it too. If he could do both, he might be able to get away. He'd lose all his stuff, but without life, did things matter? The guards told him to go back in to his room. Rather gruffly.
Well, that explained that, didn't it? Tor went back, into the dark with no lights at all, and started feeling around for objects to work with. The only things he could find were a pitcher of water that might or might not be poisoned, and a glass.
Everything that belong to him was gone, of course, though they'd dressed him in a loose silk outfit. It had no buttons or solid fasteners of any kind, not even cloth ties. Tor wondered for a few seconds if he could attach a field to silk? Or to whatever the bedding was made from? He'd never heard of that, but then again, his education had been less than complete when he left school. Maybe it was the easiest thing in the world?
Just to be safe though, Tor decided to go with something more solid. The bed was made of wood and so was the table the pitcher was on. Good hard woods from the sense he got off them. All he had to do was make a simple cutting field and he could take large pieces off to work with. His breath caught and a smile flashed over his face, making his beard pull in a couple places where it was matted together.
The walls and floor were stone. Hard, blue-gray and shiny. Given his preference, that was the material he'd take. He had to find a corner to shave stone off, but feeling around it only took a few minutes. The cutting took longer, but in under half an hour he held three nice slabs of stone, about as thick as two of his fingers and as long as his hand each. He could have gone with something smaller, but it was still pitch black in the room and really, he didn't want to accidentally slice off a hand or finger trying to make everything perfect, when good enough would do.
Hours later he had everything ready. A cutter that was by far the largest field of its type he'd ever worked with, nearing six-foot in sweep. That was just in case he needed to go through walls that were thicker than he thought they would be. Then, just to move debris from his path, he formed a decently strong explosive weapon, but, it was shielded on all sides but one, so all the force would move away from him directly. Like what a force lance might dream of being when it grew up. Destroying anything in its path, but also moving it away from whoever held the device at the same time, for close work. It was something Tor had been working on for a while, so that if he had to threaten anyone he wouldn't have to use his mega explosive or risk other people around him, since that would just be insane.
Still, this one wouldn't go through his own shields, so something better was going to be needed if he had to keep fighting his supposed friends. To round the whole thing out he had a shield. At first he thought that holding the three devices in his hands at once would be hard, but he figured out a way quickly enough. Shield in the left, the other two side by side in the right. The cutter could be left on and he could use his thumb to trigger the blast field.
Right. Tor stood up and tried to shake the feeling back into his arms and legs, after about ten minutes of this he triggered the shield and took a deep breath, just as the door opened, showing a medium sized giant figure in silhouette. The form reached over and tapped a sigil by the door, causing the lights to go on in the room.
“Gah!” Tor felt nearly blind suddenly, the light was so intense. It was just that normal kind of lights being too much in the morning thing though, and while he had to shield his eyes with his arm again, he could still see at least. Sort of. It was freaking bright. Tor pointed the two devices in his right hand and took several steps back just in case an attack was coming.
“Tor?” The Queen’s voice was baffled and confused sounding. “What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you should rest undisturbed… I… are you looking at me?” She added suddenly, voice going excited.
“Of course. Well kind of, it's awfully bright in here suddenly. But yeah, I managed to get my sight back. It's what I've been working on… How long have I been out?”
“Only two days. You were eating and responsive enough, changing your clothing and such when asked… We were told you'd be blind forever… Smythe is.” Her voice wasn't accusing, but Tor felt horrible anyway. He'd cut off the man's hand and left him blind? God. What kind of monster was he? Was Smythe just right about him?
Taking a deep breath Tor shuddered for a second.
“Oh.” It wasn't a brilliant statement, but was the best he had at the moment. He struggled mentally, his mind working, but blank at the same time. “Am I not a prisoner then? The guards seemed kind of like they weren't letting me leave earlier, I was just about to escape.”
Well, he was about to try at least. If the Royal Guard used that weapon of Smythe's, he'd never make it. For that matter Tor wondered how escaping would have worked at all anyway. He should have made some kind of device to help him flee too. Duh. Was he going to just walk out of the city? They'd taken his money, so he couldn't even hire a carriage and really, given everything, running barefoot would probably be a bit much to ask in the moment. Stupid of him to not have thought that through.
“Oh! No. You're not a prisoner, the guards were just there to make sure you were safe. I'll send them away now.” She turned to the door and waved the men away, without pause they walked off.
Tor almost laughed. It wasn't like there weren't six more hidden in the walls, right? If he'd found the light they probably would have attacked him when he started cutting things up. Then again, if he really wasn't being held against his will, maybe not. The Royal Guard didn't protect the furniture, or even the building, just the nobles. Some of them had even stolen some statues for him from the garden once. Just because he'd asked. They definitely didn't play be the same rules as everyone else, did they?
Connie stood for a moment looking at him hard, his eyes finally adjusting to the bright light. She walked towards him slowly and put a hand out to touch his arm, which didn't work, the shield protecting him. Instead of doing anything useful, she started crying. Tor felt like crossing his arms at her, but didn't want to tie up his weapons hand, the situation was still too uncertain, and besides, in a real fight she could probably kick his ass without half trying. He wasn't about to drop his shield for cuddles and hugs right now.
Without saying anything the Queen gestured for him to follow her, tears running down her cheeks still, but an odd smile on her face. Following almost by rote, Tor wondered what would be coming next. Probably not an attack. If they'd wanted to do that, they had a better chance before, when he was blind and unprotected. A simple swipe with a cutter and it would have been over. It would take a lot more work now. So what then? Humiliate him publicly? Kick him out in his pajamas? Well, he was taking his stuff with him if that was the case. If he could find it at least. That wasn't too likely he realized. They could have locked it up in a secret vault or hid it in the kitchen pantry. Really, if they just set it in some room at random he'd probably never find it here, the place was just too large.
Gah.
Walking slowly Tor lowered the weapons in his hand, but tried to stay mentally alert. Even if the Queen had lied to him about Trice, letting him feel horrible all that time, it wouldn't do to walk her around at the point of not one, but two death weapons. Finally she lead him into a small chamber lined with soft couches for sitting. The cushions were all crushed green velvet, a dark color that reminded him of the pine forest he grew up in.
In that moment, oddly enough, he missed Two Bends, backwater or not. Most of all he missed the way it smelled and how safe he'd felt there. Even walking into this room, filled with people that had called themselves his friends at one point, he didn't feel safe at all.
Tor looked around carefully, no one had noticed him yet, but that was fine. It was the royal family, Trice, Ursala and Tovey. Ursala saw him first, her eyes looking first bright, slightly teary and surprised, then shocked. She didn't move though. The first one to move was Princess Veronica, who threw herself at him, trying to hug him. She couldn't of course, which got the girl to laugh and tap her own shield off, so that she could kiss him. Tor didn't move though, shaking his head instead.
“No. I'll stay shielded thank you.” His voice was cold, icy, and hard, like stone. Rolph swallowed and nodded, but Varley looked hurt as she pulled back.
“Now,” the scene had to be ridiculous, even if no one laughed. His five-foot-four frame standing nearly even with the sitting King, who was even leaning back a little on the sofa across from the door, right in front of him. Still, Tor needed to know the truth and did something he'd rarely done in life, and focused on the King’s field, the information and energy that made him up, his attention becoming intense as he spoke.
“Did you order Smythe to attack me?” He asked, his voice harsh and soft at the same time, barely a whisper.
“No, I…” The monarch stopped when Tor raised his right hand, towards the ceiling, not pointing the stone shard weapons at him.
“Did you collude with him to attack me? To blind me?”
“No.” The King’s voice was firm, but not angry sounding.
His field was anxious, worried and stressed, but it felt honest enough. Tor nodded and asked one more thing.
“Did you consider, even for a moment, that it would hurt me when you ordered Trice to say those things about me? That I might take damage from it?”
Turmoil rose within the man suddenly, fear even, as incongruent as that seemed coming from a royal giant. Still his head high he answered, a stream of what appeared to be more or less honesty behind it. Not perfect and not complete, but mainly the truth as he saw it.
“Yes. I… knew it had that potential. I'd hoped to keep it from you, but felt it was needed, only…”
Tor walked away from the man abruptly, not needing to hear any excuses, and questioned each of the others in turn, using the same kind of focus with each, trying to feel the truth or the lie within them. It was a lot more complicated than not, but no one here had been working with Smythe to harm him at least. Well, that was something. He could work with that, couldn't he? When he got to Trice he stopped and added a single question at the end.
“Did you ever love me at all, or even… Even like me a little?” It sounded sad and tiny, like he was a child.
Her answer shocked him, since it wasn't what he expected at all. He'd figured that she, possibly, liked him as a friend, or even felt little to nothing for him, but probably didn't hate him overly. He steeled himself for that. Her hatred.
“Tor… I love you. I have for a long time.” She said simply, real love, pure and untainted rolling of her for a few moments. Then a wave of sadness joined in. He almost had to go sit down it was so strong, he turned away instead. The only one left was Ursala then. Sighing he asked her the same questions, not if she loved him, that was a moot point anyway. He hadn't asked anyone else that either.
Then, none of the rest of them had publicly maligned him. Not that he knew about.
She was dressed in brown fighting leathers and clearly felt mixed emotions about him, but hadn't been working with Smythe to do anything to him. Indeed, she barely knew the man at all.
“Why are you mad at me?” He asked quietly. She flinched, but didn't turn away.
“You're trying to help them. Marvin and his bitch. They killed my family Tor! I know they did. No one else would have bothered, would they? You may be able to look past an attempt on your life, but your better than almost anyone I've ever known. I can't look past it. Or my parents, my child…”
Well, that made sense. Still, Tor wasn't planning to help the Wards, just stop a war and get at the truth. He let the tall blond Countess know that again and nodded to her.
“If they killed your people, they'll die Ursala, I promise you that, even if I have to kill them myself. Even they know this. The only thing I'm asking for is the truth. If they didn't do it, then it would be wrong to punish them for it.”
Taking a shuddering breath she examined his face closely for a moment, her feelings for him were warm enough over all, but a single flare of revulsion tore through her too.
“What?” He asked suddenly, worried that he was just too ugly to look at or something. After he explained what he was doing she looked down, her face going red.
“Oh, that… well, it's nothing really, but…” Taking a deep breath she just dove in.
“I hate your beard.”
For the first time in weeks, Tor laughed, and meant it.