Tor was exhausted.
Really, he could barely keep his eyes open and just wanted to go home and sleep for about half a week. Only, of course, he didn't have a home any more. So that meant he needed to collect his things and find a place to stay soonish, or at least get out of the city so that when he curled up on the ground to nap no one would care. All he needed was his stuff and maybe directions to an inn. Tor had never stayed in one before, so it would be an adventure. Too much had been lately. For a moment he really just wanted to go back to Two Bends and take up baking as a profession.
Well, too late for that now.
Maybe somewhere else though?
The King gestured and suggested that Tor's luggage be found and brought to them, even while the Queen, Rolph and Varley tried to talk him into staying with them. Oddly it was only the middle child that stayed quiet, finally shaking her head when Rolph looked to her for support in his suggestion that they turn the guest house over to Tor for the duration.
“No. Don't any of you see? The army took his home from him. That means we did. Well dad at least. Or maybe Alphie, since you could have said no and told them to get out. That was after they barred him from it and then attacked him for coming in anyway. His own home! What would any of us do if the guards here attacked us? That's an act of war, our military striking out at a Countier like that without cause, and everyone’s acting like it was just a lark or something! Stay here? I'm amazed he even brought the Wards letters to us. If it were me I would have paid a currier and called it good. Then when he does come, because stopping a civil war is more important to him than his own pride or dignity, we let him be attacked by one of the highest government officials in all Noram. Again. Why isn't anyone talking about that? Why wasn't the man put to death after the first attack? Or at least removed from office? And was he behind the attack at Tor's house? He's the head of the military and clever enough to set something like that up, we all know that. It's part of why he has the job. What do we even know about why he did it?”
The King sighed and put his right hand on his head. After a while he spoke, his voice sounding nearly as tired already as Tor felt.
“Smythe was scared honey. He's an old man and the worlds just changing too fast for him. Tor represents not just change, but power, and worse, power that Smythe personally doesn't control, and knows he can't. The first attack was foolish, of course, but I really thought he'd moved past that when Tor didn't retaliate for it, or even demand justice. The war started right on the heels of that, before it was even really over, and he swore that Tor was only being apprehended. It was moronic, but understandable given the situation. What we saw the other day, that was still probably about fear, but now the man has a real reason for it. Before Tor was an able opponent, a builder that might be a little better than some. But now he'd successfully defeated over five hundred men in battle, alone, and chose to leave them alive.” The King shrugged. “I'm sure that to a hardened warrior like Smythe it seemed that Tor was just toying with them. Saying that they were so little threat he could treat them like a few small children instead of a company of soldiers. By all rights it should have been a blood bath. It would have been if Smythe had been there in Tor's place, I'm sure.”
Tor felt his shoulders hunch. So it was his fault? Somehow he'd scared the military advisor and made it seem like killing him was the only safe course of action? Like Tor was dangerous? He was about to point this out when Tovey snorted. In the year they'd know each other Count Thomson had seldom made any sound that undignified. Pulling his tall form straight while still sitting he nodded.
“Well, we have a war to fight and possibly two if this peace accord with Ward doesn't hold. Who replaces Smythe then? It would be prudent to act fast and I don't think that trying to hold his position for his eventual recovery is wise at this point. As it stands I doubt the man could survive another incident with Master Tor.”
It was suddenly Master Tor now? From Tovey? Since when was he a master of anything? He wasn't even a shop master or a tradesman, much less the top of his trade. A lot of builders were better than him. Like whoever built that weapon that blinded him the other day. He didn't have a clue how that worked. The light was bright, but it did more than light could somehow. It felt like it seared his very flesh at the time. That had gone away while fixing his eyes, but still… Tor called him on it.
“And really,” he added at the end. “Not only do I not have a shop or studio, I don't even have a house. Everything I own is in a couple of cases now.”
Ignoring him almost totally, except a few strained looks, people made military councilor suggestions again. A lot of names came flooding out from the room, but the King held his own council on the matter, as if he already had some ideas of his own, but didn't want to argue them yet. Tor looked up to see Connie staring at him, as if concerned.
Ah.
He got it after a few moments, she probably worried about him being homeless. Well, it had happened before. What he really needed was property, something no one could take away. If he had that, the rest could be made to happen. Thinking about it he felt suddenly angry. Why should he be without a home? Hadn't he done enough to earn one? He'd worked constantly and people said that what he did had value even.
It took an act of will to let go of the thought and focus on the topic at hand, that coming back around to the disposition of the Wards. It was important, obviously, since he'd kind of promised them a real and fair trial. Yay. He should have just killed them when he had a chance and put Petra in as Countess. It would have been easier over all. Wait, she had an older brother ahead of her didn't she? Well, they could saddle him with it then. Maybe he could get Petra to run off with him? The thought was unworthy, so he didn't mention it out loud. The killing part was unworthy, he corrected. Petra wouldn't want to run off with him, but that part would have been fine. They were both single adults and even of comparable station in life. She was Counserina second and in line until Martin had a child with his wife.
The conversation went on for a long time, and a lot of war related things were talked about, which Tor mainly just nodded through. It was nearly all he could do not to fall asleep. His eyes were heavy and the topic, while supremely important, was about as interesting as watching yeast ferment. Starting he realized that his head had dropped suddenly as he'd fallen asleep. Sitting up straight he waited for his things to be delivered, or perhaps someone would come and take him there? That would work too. That was probably going to be easier he realized. Six medium-large trunks would be hard to move, right? Especially if they didn't know how to work the follow along floats.
Nothing came. Eventually they moved to one of the dining rooms, but Tor didn't drop his shield to eat. After all, that would open him to attack. Plus for all he knew the food was poisoned. Everyone else had a poison detector, but not him. All the ones he had were in with the amulets in with his stuff.
No one said anything, but he got worried glances from everyone for some reason. Finally, after almost two hours a liveried Royal Guard came in, looking panicked. Everyone stared as he whispered in the King’s ear. Whatever it was Rich didn't look happy about it, frowning and going very still as he said something and listened to a reply. Suddenly he took a deep breath and walked from the room, heals clicking softly on the stone floor.
“Thomson, Thorgood, attend me now, please. It's… potentially urgent.” He said, not looking at either of them as he walked quickly from the room. Rolph shrugged but kept eating.
“Well, Tor, is there anything we can do to convince you that it's safe here with us now?” The Queen asked, batting her eyelashes just enough to catch his attention, without making it seem phony. It was of course, he realized. She'd probably had lessons in it as a girl. Ah well, so what if she had? If so it had worked out well enough for her, since she was Queen. If she'd been taught homemaking, she'd have been out of her depth, wouldn't she? He didn't think there was but said nothing, not knowing how to answer her.
Tor kept drifting off, and was, he realized, asleep when everyone came back in. Because being caught napping would make him look good. Not weak at all.
They didn't run, actually, if such large people could be said to mince, that's what Tor would have gone with as a descriptor. They all looked horribly worried about something, but only Tovey actually looked at him.
“Tor… all your things have been stolen. Even the devices that were in the room you shared with Countess Thorgood and… Countess Printer. All of its gone from the palace.” The Count didn't seem pleased about it at least.
Well.
Either they were lying to try and keep him there, or something had gone horribly wrong. Tor just waited. They'd probably give him something more to go on eventually. It was the King that finally broke the silence.
“Ahem. Well… not to point fingers, but Countess Printer was seen leaving with ten cases earlier, flying at speed away from the Capital. We're tracking her now, but she seems to be making best time back towards her County. We need to prove this before taking action but it seems highly likely.”
Nodding Tor just sat.
“Wait…” Something didn't make sense to him. Well a lot of things didn't really, but right now one thing really stood out. “She took my clothes? My toothbrush? Why? She'll never fit in them, and even if she did, well, the colors and styles are all wrong for her. Really, I have all those green shirts, she'd look better in burgundy, don't you think? And I know for a fact she has her own toothbrush, I've seen it, it has a really nice carved ivory handle… Oooh, and what could she be doing with my under things?” Tor mugged a little, getting a laugh from the Princesses at least, well, Trice too, though that was more a dark chuckle, as if she had some ideas about the subject that Tor probably wouldn't even think of.
That dark chuckle triggered an equally dismal thought in Tor's somewhat sleep deprived mind.
“Oh, and, I don't suppose that the amulets I was wearing when Smythe attacked me went into those cases, did they?”
Trice told him that Ger had collected them and was holding them for him.
“Great! He's a good and trustworthy person to keep my stuff. Very good in fact. Um, could someone send for him? Quickly please? Before his next meal time?” A smile strained his lips, half panicked.
No one got it except the Prince.
“Shit Tor… Do not tell me a twelve year old boy is running around with that super weapon that looks like a poison detector?”
Well, Tor considered it for a moment. Gerald was thirteen, so there was that. Nearly an adult and a Squire to boot. He wasn't worried the kid would run off with his things, just that he might get confused and check his meal with a poison detector that simply wasn't. He tilted his head back and forth as Rolph ran from the room. Gasping slightly Tor followed. He didn't want the Prince to scare the kid after all. As long as Ger knew he had it, everything would be fine. Probably safer with him in fact, since no one really seemed to want to kill the boy. No need to freak after all. It could be hard not to, but it wouldn't help anything, losing control never did.
They pelted through the hallway, rounding several hallways before making it to the kitchen, one of the smaller ones that Tor hadn't been to before, to find both Ger and Gemma helping out with the dinner prep. Chopping potatoes into little cubes.
Tor smiled and waved when the kids looked up.
“Hey all!” He forced his voice into brightness. “Ger, do you still have my amulets by any chance?” He asked immediately, not getting an answer really, just a flying tackle from two sides.
“Master Tor!” Gemma cried, her arms slipping off his shield, her own doing the same. That earned a smile from Tor. With the double slices of stone in his right hand Tor aimed a blow for Ger's shoulder, he had a shield on too. Good. If he hadn't the second blow would have landed on his head, if not hard enough to do more than sting. He was a Squire now, so that meant he needed to stay ready, especially since they were at war.
For nearly a minute the kids enthused about his not being blind or dead, which made Tor happy enough. Ger, being a good Squire, even if not his, had all the amulets and weapons on him. He was using that shield, Gemma had the one Tor gave him. Very smart of them really, good use of available resources.
“Right, um, see the poison detector there? Could you hand it to me please?” The field was definitely not that of a poison detector. Being hyper careful Tor stepped out of the room and activated the cutter still in his hand, facing away from anyone and, hands full, tried to make another mark in it. Nothing happened.
Right, the shield he had on protected it too. Tor tried not to indicate he'd made that mistake and didn't react. Looking around and taking a deep breath, he willed the shield to drop and made the second and then third mark on the tiny copper piece quickly, then made sure he was protected again.
“Whew! Here you go then Ger.” Tor handed it back to him, earning a panicked look from Rolph. “OK. Ger, that, as you may have guessed, isn't a poison detector at all. It's the most powerful explosive weapon I've ever made. Maybe the most powerful thing that exists in the kingdom. If you use it while on the ground or on anything too near you, and I mean within at least a mile, maybe more, you'll die, shield or not. So will everyone else around you. Keep the other weapons, and guard it with your life. Give it to no one except me, Kolb, Prince Alphonse or the King, and really, if any of us seem upset or angry when demanding it, don't give it to us. Got that? Even if you have to fight us to keep it. Gemma? When Ger needs to bathe or anything that means his shield will be off, you have it. For god’s sake don't get confused and check your food with it! Are you both armed?”
Ger was, with the weapons that Tor had been holding when he'd gone down in the fight with Smythe. Interestingly the young brown haired Squire held the blinding weapon too. Tor borrowed it from him, promising to return it later. He wanted to check the field out on it and see what he could discover. If nothing else he wanted to be shielded against it, didn't he?
“Ah, Tor… a word?” Rolph said quietly, gesturing to one side of the hallway.
“Are you sure that two kids should have all that gear? I mean… well, they don't have any training yet, do they?”
It was a good point.
Tilting his head to one side Tor showed Gemma how to use the Not-flyer and cautioned her that it was military grade, so faster than the ones they had in town. She already knew how to use them, it turned out, at least the slower kind that the palace servants had access to. So did Ger. Laughing Rolph doffed his own and handed it to the boy.
Nodding the Prince looked at both of the children. Tor was the one that spoke though.
“There, now if anyone comes for you, or tries to take that weapon, run. If you can't escape, then you have my permission to kill them. There we go, that should do for now. We need to get them trained fast obviously, if they’re going to guard the most dangerous weapons for the kingdom. One last time, if a Count orders you, on pain of death to give them your weapons, what do you do?”
“Run away?” Gemma said, sounding uncertain. Tor nodded and smiled at her.
“And if they corner you in a small room, surrounding you with guardsmen?” Tor asked, looking at Ger.
“Kill them all?” He sounded more certain.
“Yep. Then run away again, in case they brought friends. Well, glad that's taken care of. Shall we go see what else we need to do now Prince Alphonse?” Tor said, getting a shocked look from his friend.
“I don't think you ever called me that before.”
“I don't think I ever handed massive death weapons to kids that can't even reach the top shelf in the kitchen either, but it's a day for firsts. Shall we?” Gesturing with his right hand he managed a fluid motion that indicated they were going back where they came from, it was smooth enough Rolph didn't even laugh at the attempt. If Tor wasn't fighting a yawn at the same time it would have been nearly perfect.
He let the Prince do the honors of the story to the rest of his family. It really sounded much more interesting when he told it, Rolph being a better storyteller by far. The King actually squeaked when he found out that the weapon had been left in the hands of two children, but Trice smiled and winked at her uncle.
“Don't worry, two of the best squires in the kingdom. Of course I have to say that, because one of them is mine, but it's a good plan. No one would think to search them for it, and they won't use it. I'd put a Royal Guard detail on them just to be safe, but seriously, who else would you choose to hold it? Smythe of Westend?”
The King hurried into the hall, but came back a minute later looking much more assured.
“Now, where were we? Oh, yes, so… Tor was opining that Countess Printer would look better in purple than green and might be doing strange things with his undergarments?”
“Burgundy dear.” Connie corrected.
“Indeed, silly of me to make that mistake. Now, Tor, I believe their also a small matter of some devices you made? I don't suppose you have an accounting of those do you?”
Tor did, but only roughly. It was about five thousand shields, all the latest design, three thousand flying rigs, three thousand military level Not-flyers and a few thousand lights. Nearly a hundred explosive weapons, but while dangerous, they were the smaller ones he assured the King who still grimaced… and a whole host of things that he didn't really have a good accounting of at all. Also all his gold, for some reason. It probably made sense, if she was stealing stuff anyway, but she could have left his clothes and soap.
“Holy fucking shit.” Princess Karina said staring at Tor with her mouth open. “That's… even if we don't count the Tor-shoes, I mean the Not-flyers, that's millions of golds worth of stuff! Wars have been fought over less. A lot less. I mean, we had a war not twenty years ago over a single goat, so this… What do we do? Send the army?”
“Watch your language. You're a Princess, not a dock worker.” Tor said, his voice not unkind. “As to what were going to do… Well, I need to find someplace to sleep. Obviously I don't have coin for a room right now, so I guess I have to stay here after all. If that's all right I mean? Then in the morning, after I make some new shields, flight rigs and all that, I'll go off to wherever my friend Holly is, and get my clothes and gold back. Obviously, if she wants to borrow some of my stuff she can. For future reference though, please ask first. I can get the fact that I was out of it for a few days but seriously… This is more than a little inconvenient. I really want to brush my teeth.”
Everyone went quiet except for Trice. She laughed long and hard, it didn't even have a manic edge to it at all. Everyone finally stared at her which got her to sober finally, nearly forty seconds later. She still smiled.
“I am so going with. Ooh! Tor, shave off your beard, it makes you look a lot younger, plus Ursala hates it. We'll take Varley along and, well, Gemma and Ger are busy… Maybe we can take a bunny with us or something? Nothing says, don't kill us, were all cute and fuzzy, like a bunny.”
She was being sarcastic, but Tor just yawned and agreed with her.
“Yeah, send for Petra Ward too, and… David Derring. That should round things out.” Who he really needed was Karen Derring, but she was dead. Her brother would have to stand for her as Holly's friend then.
“What about Martin Kolbrin? I mean if we're to send those two?” Richard said, his eyes directly on Tor's.
Ah, right, not everyone here knew about the special section, did they?
That should do it, they all agree. It kind of made sense. Kolb had worked closely at with the Countess at school after all. Definitely a familiar face. Everyone thought it would work at least.
Except Rolph who thought he should go and Connie who definitely didn't want her daughter or injured niece going near someone so obviously unbalanced.
In the end they both relented.
That was good, because Tor fell asleep curled up on the sofa he'd been sitting on all day. When he woke up, it was the middle of the night. Someone had come in and dropped off pre-marked copper sections for amulets, enough for full batches at a time, which he took as a hint. Batches of a hundred each, not ten. A bit of extra work, but he had to start rebuilding since Holly had taken all that stuff… A bit frustrating, but that was life, sometimes you just had to pick back up and go, even if it was a pain in the rear.
Tor just worked until he'd nearly finished the fifth, and obviously last, batch when the people came in. It was just some lights on small copper disks that could be tied anywhere, they were only the size of a silver coin, but the light they produced came out in a nimbus around them nearly a foot in diameter. The light was red this time, because some of the military men felt that red light didn't hurt their night vision as much. It probably didn't, since you couldn't see half as well by it, but if that's what they wanted, he'd make it for them. They had the combat field experience, not him.
It took nearly three hours after that for them all to be ready to travel, since Tor was bathed, shaved and dressed by a team of servants he'd never seen before who were both efficient and good at their jobs. Then they had to wait for the King to write Holly a letter, which he assured them all wasn't inflammatory.
They could only hope, since it was sealed with wax and no one wanted to risk trying to melt it free in case they damaged it. That would be embarrassing after all. Tor had a vision of them handing over a letter from the King covered in half melted wax. The stuff running down his shirt in a red mess. It was a hilarious thought, but also a crime. You didn't mess with a royal seal. People had died for that in the past. Not even that long in the past either.
The flight took about seven hours, but mainly because everyone wanted to stop and eat three times. Tor understood, everyone else was a giant, even if a small one. They just ate more when they could. Tor ate once, at about lunch time and then mainly because Petra grabbed him and threatened to force feed him if he didn't have some fruit and cheese. The fruit was dried, quick dried, which left it airy and light, it practically melted on the tongue and wasn't shriveled like regular dried food was. It was crispy instead of chewy and good in its own way. Like candy almost. Pears, peaches and apples were offered.
No one mentioned the new process, because they'd all seen it before, except Petra, and she got almost instantly that Tor had created the device that made it without being told. The woman just kind of expected that if new magic was involved, Tor was to blame.
Out of everyone, it was funny who expected what to happen. Tor didn't say much, because really, he didn't know at all. Kolb figured that they'd likely have a fight on their hands, possibly with Holly herself. After all, he trained her for years to do just that. Tor he'd taught to run away, Holly he drilled on leading forces to battle. Oops.
Trice had a small box with her that she assured everyone would fix everything, but she said it with that playful air she often used, which was good to hear, as much as the situation sucked. She wore black, except the light tan of her bandages on the stump of her left arm. The flight rigs that had been made that morning all used a right hand control, but other than that were as fast as the new military ones. It was what he was using too, since he didn't have time to make a regular batch, not yet. That was fine, he wasn't going to fight anyway, just talk. Every few minutes Trice gave him strange looks, flying alongside him and mugging openly.
She seemed to either be adjusting fast to her missing arm, or, and this was more likely Tor guessed, she was faking it for everyone else's benefit. She was good at faking things after all, Tor thought, only slightly peeved by the idea. Finally after ten strange looks from her or so, Tor stuck his tongue out briefly. It got a laugh from her, he couldn't hear it, but that's what it looked like from a distance.
Petra looked uneasy.
Tor wanted her there, because Holly Printer was an old friend of hers from school. But even though she wasn't close to her sister in-law, she was still a Ward. It would have been harder to deal with, except that the tall dark skinned girl really didn't like the Countess Ward much at all and had told people that for years. Kolb didn't think it was a stupid idea at least. Not that he'd said.
When they landed in the Printer capital, oddly enough just called “Printer” instead of Printoria, Printerland, or something even dumber sounding than that, and, efficiently enough, they were met almost instantly by the city guard. Here they wore dark green and white uniforms that weren't half as silly looking as the bright red and white used by the guard in the kingdoms capital. Actually it looked kind of sharp. Menacing, but very professional. The wore tall black boots that gleamed a little they were so polished.
It was a group of four men, and they didn't fly over, simply walking, their hard soled leather boots, about half as high as what prostitutes normally wore, marched over in step, making decently loud clomping sounds. They had clubs on their waists, but didn't draw them.
“Identify yourselves please, gentles.” The young man who was in the front left position spoke first. He had hair that was either blond or brown, one of those things that was too close to call. Other than that, all the men looked similar. Short military haircuts, trim. Very young.
It was Kolb that stepped forward, his smile looking kinder than Tor was used to seeing it, which probably meant fake. The scar on his right cheek, running from an inch under the eyebrow to an inch above the chin, a silver line on the lean face, crinkled a little bit with the effort. Even the eyes wrinkled as if trying to make him look very happy to be there.
“Well met!” He said in a phony sounding voice. Well, it sounded fake to Tor at least. Honestly it was happy sounding, the kind of voice you used with the guard when you knew you weren't about to be arrested for something and just didn't want trouble. “I'm Baron Martin Kolbrin, this young lady is Princess Veronica Cordes.” He gestured at Varley, the men all bowed as one and held it.
“Your majesty.” The lead man said. She waved them back up.
“Hello!” She said, her own voice sounding bright and chipper. Tor got the idea. Be happy, like coming to visit a friend? He could do that.
Kolb continued.
“Next we have Countier David Derring…” The tall young man, still only fifteen, if nearly seven foot tall and lean as well as hard, grinned. It was charming.
“Hey.” He said, sounding like a goofy kid.
“And Ducherina Patricia Morgan.”
Trice giggled and batted her eyelashes at one of the guards that hadn't spoken, causing the man to grin and blush. The guy was good looking, Tor had to admit. He looked down at her left arm worriedly, but didn't let it show on his face as revulsion at least. Trice was pretty, one armed or not. It did make her look a bit lopsided though.
“Oh and these two…” Kolb gestured first to Petra and then him, a bit lazily. “Petra and Tor. You know… the wizard? Hard to believe I know, but it's true.”
Petra murmured something but Tor stepped forward and wrinkled his nose at Kolb.
“Oh, come on! Everybody has to look like something, don't they? Just because I'm not so over tall as all you doesn't mean I look funny. Seriously… most people aren't giants you know.” Tor grinned at the guardsmen to show he was just playing. “Do I look odd to you?”
Tor knew he probably did. These were city folk, and ones picked to be guards, they weren't giants, but of the four of them, none was under six foot. They looked small compared to most of the people with him perhaps, but not that bad. He looked like a tiny child, which made him sigh. Even more so without his beard. He rubbed at his face absently kind of lamenting the loss. He'd look about twelve to most these people, maybe a little older in the right light. Part of it was the height, but he really did just look young, thin, and pale.
It took a few minutes to get directions to the Printer estate, which was overlooking the ocean, on the other side of town. Instead of flying they walked, since that would call the least attention to themselves. David carried the box Trice had, a plain wooden thing, not overly large, with a wooden handle on the top. She wouldn't tell him what was in it, saying it was a surprise for Holly. Tor let it go at that. If Trice didn't want to say more, it would just cause a fight if he insisted. It was good enough that the girl wasn't moping and whining about her arm still like she had at first. It sucked, but really, she'd saved hundreds of lives grabbing that death dust bomb, including the royal families as well as his. Her missing arm wasn't a handicap, but a badge of honor.
Looking at her from behind Tor winced.
She really did look out of balance though. Lopsided. Maybe he could get her a new arm somehow? He wondered if he could make one. His mind sank deep as he thought about what was needed. Could he use a combination of shield and something like a flight field so she could move objects… shape it like a hand? He'd never made light look like a solid object, but that had to be possible, didn't it? Things looked solid all the time and that was just reflected light. It would take experimentation. The feedback and links to her mind would have to be… Incredible. Hundreds of links and for best effect they'd need to mimic the ones that a real hand used, of course.
Then, could he add mental feedback so she could feel? That information already existed, even within himself, so it should be doable, but he'd have to investigate that too. It was incredibly complex he realized. More so than anything he'd ever even thought of making, but… Tor could see it. It was possible. Potentially at least. After a minute he realized that Trice had moved in front of him and was using her right hand to jiggle his left shoulder.
“Tor! Hey, snap out of it!” She laughed at least. Everyone else looked a little concerned, but she'd seen him do this before. More than once. A lot more than that.
“We've got things to do, no time to disappear on us now.”
“Sorry.” He said brightly, and trying to cover for just how deep he was Tor forgot himself and leaned in, giving the tall curly haired girl in front of him a warm kiss on the mouth. She just kissed him back, instead of hitting him like he probably deserved for taking the liberty, but Varley “humphed” and crossed her arms.
“Hey, this is a business trip, not a couple’s getaway. You two stop that and start walking.”
Ah. Tor had forgotten for a minute that Trice and he weren't engaged any more, and that he and Varley were. At least for the time being. That whole thing with the King having sabotaged his last relationship still rankled, and Varley had capitalized on the situation, if getting him was any kind of prize.
Maybe it was just something they'd dreamed up to keep him from totally losing it? Regardless, kissing Trice like that was more than a little indiscreet and therefore rude. Maybe. The social code of the nobles said that anyone could have almost any relationship they wanted and most people had several, some having ten or more at once, but you weren't supposed to advertise things like that. It had been a little too warm to write off as joking even. It was just reflex though. Tor didn't explain, because that would just call more attention to it. Instead he blushed, and kept on walking.
Petra chuckled and moved in beside him. Leaning over slightly she whispered in his ear.
“Don't worry, Veronica's not really mad, she's just guarding her territory, that's all.” Then, possibly just to see how bright red Tor could turn, the tall girl smiled and grabbed his behind. No one else seemed to notice at least.
A few minutes of walking later, when they rounded the corner of a row of densely packed single story white buildings, each of them seeming to hold a small shop of some kind, his face cooled when the stiff breeze hit it. He could smell the salt and hear the birds before that, and had for a while he realized. There in front of him was an ocean.
The beach was rock instead of the sand he expected from his prior experiences with similar things and he almost felt like running to the water and dancing around in it to cool down. He was more than a little warm, the air being humid here and hotter than he liked, sweat collecting in his armpits, waistband and groin in an uncomfortable manner. Well, he should have taken the time to make a batch of heat equalizers instead of silly little lights. Live and learn, right? Looking around he realized suddenly that everyone with him looked comfortable. Darn them. He was the only one that had to do without it seemed. Because that made sense, didn't it? He'd invented the darned amulets and he didn't get to have one?
Yeah that was fair.
Along with the sea, there was a smell of food in the air. One of them, something fruity and warm caught his attention, he looked around until he saw the sign that said “bakery”. The scent was pie. It had to be. Peach he thought. For a second he wanted to get one and take it with them, after all, when you went to visit you were supposed to take something, right? Especially since they were showing up uninvited. Tor didn't have any money his being “borrowed” by Holly, and felt uneasy about asking anyone else to lend him some. It sure smelled good though…
An idea hit Tor and he smiled. He had an extra five hand lights in his pocket. Maybe the merchant would be willing to trade? It was worth a shot. The worst they could do was say no, right?
Waving Tor got everyone to follow him, most of them looking bemused. Except Kolb, who looked skeptical, and a little annoyed. Well, that made sense.
Going into the whitewashed little shop probably didn't seem in keeping with their task, did it? It didn't have a glass window, just a strange board that was folded up and provided shade as well as letting light in. As they approached the man behind the counter came to it directly, so they didn't have to go in at all, wiped his hands on a brown cloth and smiled.
“How Y'all doing?” He asked, his voice slow and relaxed. “New in town?”
“Yep!” Tor said brightly and inquired after the pies, just to make sure they were really there and not at one of the other shops. The man beamed at them all and brought one out, it looked perfect, flaky crust and brown topped, slightly darker where sugar had been sprinkled on it. From the color leaking slightly through the vents on top, and the smell, Tor realized it was a combination of peach and Strawberry.
The man ducked his head a little.
“These are the favorite of Countess Printer. She normally comes in for one about once a month in season. Sometimes more.” The man wore all white, an outfit similar to what the people in Warden had all been wearing.
“Would you be interested in one?”
Looking around Tor tilted his head. Royals all ate a lot, and he didn't know how many people Holly would have to feed…
“Two would be better, but I don't really have any silver on me. Would you be willing to trade?”
The man sighed hugely and looked skeptically at Tor. He was dressed well enough, but not so well this couldn't be his one nice set of clothing, which was literally true, this being the only thing he had to wear at all until he got his things back. All of them wore similar things. He had on a purple shirt in silk, along with a pair of leather pants and a vest in the same color brown. Now that he thought about it, he realized that it was probably something of Varley’s that she'd outgrown. In fact he'd seen her in it. Tor blushed. Royal girl flying clothes. No doubt he looked manly.
Getting out the hand light's he turned one on and handed it to the man. It was bright, but red. Other people stopped to stare, since it called for attention. The man gasped a little, his eyes going big.
“Magic! I… doubt my shops worth as much as this is. What does something like this go for, fifty gold at least? More than that?” His voice had gone from skeptical to awed. Not just a little either.
Tor grinned.
“Well, today it's worth two pies and something to carry them in. If you want it, I mean? It's just something I made myself.” After all, it wasn't even a proper light, being all red like it was. To someone like this it would be a curiosity at best. The man quickly agreed, looking a little guilty about it, but providing a nice basket with a top to carry it in. Tor just hope it really was something Holly liked. Merchants would claim anything to make a sale.
Even bakers always had the best bread ever, the most wonderful cakes, and so on.
After that was dealt with they only had another half mile or so to walk, the residence being carefully hidden behind some trees, a dense growth that had probably been there for a long while. There was no mistaking what the building was when it came into view. It wasn't the dwelling of a peasant or even a rich merchant, a huge, and old feeling, castle of stone, smooth and shining, meaning it was made with magical tools. The large blocks had been put together so well it almost looked like one seamless piece for a moment, except that the stone had different colors, some of it being quarried in different places Tor guessed. It wasn't lovely really, too eclectic for that, but it was majestic without a doubt. That had probably been the original point, rather than looking nice.
Petra pointed, seeming happy suddenly.
“There it is!” She said, causing Tor to feel a flash of unwarranted annoyance. It was obvious what it was after all. There wouldn't exactly be a castle every mile along the coast now, would there? He made himself let that go as unworthy. Petra was his friend and wasn't saying that the rest of them were too stupid to figure it out, she was simply commenting, just making conversation. Most likely at least.
Really, while he liked the girl and even kind of wanted to have sex with her, he didn't know how she thought overly. For all he knew she'd meant that they were all far too stupid to not mistake the huge thing in front of them with its motley stones of black, white, gray and gem like marble, for a barn. Instead of being a jerk, Tor decided to smile and give the girl a nod.
She winked at him.
“I was here a couple of times on break, back when Holly and I were in school together, since, you know, it's on the way to Warden. Kind of.” She took Tor's hand eagerly and led him up a smooth stone path. “This way, I think.”
The path split and wound around several times, but Petra walked it easily, possibly perfectly. In three minutes they were standing in front of a door that was probably the main one, given how huge it was. Twin doors of highly polished wood, each big enough that Tor couldn't have reached across them. Petra grabbed a bell cord, one higher than he could reach, a convention that Tor always took to mean something like “don't ring this if you aren't a giant… Peon.” or something to that effect.
If he ever had a bell like this, it was going to reach nearly to the ground, he decided right then. What if some little kid needed in? OK, so he could have flown up and reached it, but other than that, he'd have to jump, which would be embarrassing. They had to ring twice before anyone came. Petra just grinned and shrugged.
“Really people normally use the side doors, but we're bringing in a Princess. How often does that happen?” The door opened out, making them all step back as the side on their left swung slowly, The door was heavy and apparently needed to be picked up to move at all.
The man in black that was moving it grinned at them a little sourly.
“Sorry it took so long, this thing is a bear… Now, how may I help you? You're obviously not here to sell us anything, right? If so, then you would have to go around the side, after helping me close this beast.” He chuckled a little. Tor smiled and stepped forward.
“Not selling anything, here to visit Countess Printer?” The man looked suddenly skeptical. Something that Tor was getting used to finally, it seemed. Did they all really see him as that much less than everyone else just for being short? “We have peach and strawberry pie?”
The man laughed again, not just a chuckle.
“Well! That would do it then, even if you were trying to sell something. Now, may I ask who's calling? Otherwise she'll just send me back to wheedle the pie from you and send you off. She's a bit… distracted today.”
Kolb did the introductions, but added in Petra’s Counserina this time. He didn't add Tor's Countier though, which was just as well, since that kind of thing always made him uneasy. His name was just given as Tor. The man bowed low, to Varley first, since she was a Princess and then everyone else in turn, even him, though that did get done last, gesturing for them to all come in, and moving to close the heavy door on his own. Tor just grabbed the frame near the middle, where it had an edge and lifted too, after setting down the basket he carried. The whole thing had to weigh nearly two hundred pounds. Obviously made to withstand a siege, even though the place lacked a proper wall. So… maybe it wasn't for attacks at all and just meant to keep salespeople out? It should work, as long as everyone inside refused to open it.
The door didn't close with a mighty thunk, but with a creak and finally a screech that would have set Tor’s nerves on end if it had lasted even a second longer. The man took a deep breath.
“Right… Um, well, this is embarrassing, but honestly we've never had a visit from royalty before and I'm really not sure what would be correct…” The man looked about fifty, but spoke like a younger person, his voice friendly and open the whole time, as if Princesses and barons might just be people too. It made Tor smile and want to help the man out.
“Oh, well, if there's somewhere to sit, while we wait? Then you can let Countess Printer know we're here I think, if you feel comfortable with that I mean? Otherwise we can just stand here, but we are dropping in without warning, so she may want time to get ready or something?” Varley smiled and indicated that would be proper enough, which got the man to smile at her. It could be very easy to smile at a pleasant Princess after all.
“This way then. I think the main sitting room is clean. Ah, it's always clean, what am I saying? I'll have you thinking we keep the livestock in there or something at this rate.” His voice was happy enough when he said it, clearly being lightly playful. Very different than the palace.
Tor thought it kind of a big improvement. He collected the pie basket and followed the man. So far things were going a lot more smoothly than he’d thought they would. Probably the magic of pie. Who didn’t like a good pie?
The room had several soft sofa's all done in red and brown, the Printer house colors, and had a half dozen matching chairs. It was a big space that had natural light coming through stained glass in the pattern of flowers and fields of grass. It was pretty and glowed brightly at this time of day, which must have been about five in the afternoon. About ten minutes later the man that had met them at the door came back with three women, one older and brunette, followed by a round faced red-head that looked about twenty-five and another brunette who must have been close to the same age, all sporting close cropped haircuts that looked military. It was the common style in the Capital, but Tor hadn't realized it had spread this far already. The Queen had cut her hair to show support for the troops and also to make her look more like everyone else around her, a kind of camouflage, but that part wasn't public knowledge. The war with Austra was the big deal, not this stupid stuff that was distracting them right now, everyone going after Ward instead of getting ready for… Ah.
Tor wasn't a master strategist, but that made sense to him. It would even explain why the Wards would have been framed for all those attacks. If, of course, it was a frame at all.
Tor was expecting them to bring drinks, or possibly snacks to help them pass the time. Instead the women all moved suddenly, nearly as one, pulling force lances and pointing them at the group in front of them. Letting his mind range forth, he felt for the fields they had on. Several things popped into focus for him nearly instantly.
First, the force lances weren't very good quality. Oh, military grade, with strong fields on them, but the old kind that would only work for a few moments at a time and drained the user of personal energy. The second thing was that none of these people had a shield on at all, but all of his friends did.
Already turned on too. Tor stepped forward, holding up the small basket with the two pies in it.
“We come bearing gifts?” He spoke quietly, but with a smile.
“Get down!” The women started yelling loudly, voices going sharp. They looked more military now, the weapons did it, not the uniforms, which looked a little silly, red and brown shirts and pants, far too warm for the weather. These three didn't have temperature equalizers so damp spots showed under their arms. Then again he didn't either right now, so he could hardly feel superior about it. He was probably ruining the silk.
They started activating the weapons, which did nothing to the visitors, but shoved furniture back into the walls suddenly, making loud noises.
Standing in the same place Tor held his expression calm and shook his head.
“Really! Pie. We have pie!” His voice was a little desperate. Tor didn't know what anyone else had brought to the party, but anything would work on these women. Possibly lethally. The man with them looked terrified and hugged the wall, a tactic that would have worked better if he hadn't ended up nearly right behind the people being attacked. When Tor looked around everyone else had something in their hands, David Derring stood in front of Varley, two weapons pointed, getting ready to make the women stop. Just force lances, but ones Tor had made, which meant powerful and unending. He could hit these women for hours if he wanted and never even breathe hard.
“Stop!” Tor said suddenly, moving to stand in front of the attackers, shielding them with his body, which was only a psychological barrier at best. They were all nearly six foot tall, and too spread out for it to really work.
“They don't have shields on. I don't know why their attacking, but they can't hurt us with the weapons they have, so… You know, let's not, if it's all the same? I'm sure we can deal with this like reasonable people.” Well, that didn't seem to be happening really, reason not being the plan it seemed, but Kolb nodded.
“Stand down.” He told them all quietly. “Ladies, if you would please place your weapons away, we'll gladly do the same.”
It seemed to dawn on the women that they both weren't being very effective, except for in trashing the room, and that no one had responded to them violently at all yet. They all set their weapons down on the floor slowly, which wasn't what they'd been asked to do, but worked well enough for the moment.
Holly ran into the room then, looking frantic, she had a good force lance in her hand and a full shield on. That made sense, having had access to thousands of the things. She started to spray the room, sending furniture flying, some stopped when it hit people, but other pieces went straight for the ladies that had attacked them. The vulnerable ones.
Jumping wildly Tor slapped at a low table that came towards the red-headed and round faced woman, stopping it in the air when the shielded pie basket hit it.
The pies!
“Stop! We’re going to ruin the pie!” He yelled again, pulling the basket towards him fearing they'd been crushed.
Countess Printer stared at him for a moment and went pale.
“Tor…” She said simply and dropped the weapon she held to the floor.
A second later she followed it.