by P. S. Power
Only one it looked like.
A familiar black haired man, face cleaned of the stupid facial hair that Tor had always associated with him, hair short and for the first time ever, not covered with oil or grease. The clothing was nice, warm and plain looking, a thick padded brown jacket over brown trousers. The hands had thick gloves as well and on his feet were warm looking boots of unpolished tan leather.
Dorgal Sorvee.
Whee. Tor couldn't help the thought. They might be business partners now, and had even agreed to be friends, but in his current state all Tor could remember was how often the boy had hassled him in school. Bullied really. He was about six foot-two and lean, and annoyingly had a warm and friendly smile on his face when he saw them all.
“Welcome!” He cried out.
Happily too.
The bastard.
Tor seriously just considered leaving. The King and Queen had set him up to spend his “vacation” first in the back of a carriage, something he hated and everyone knew he despised, now he was being dumped on Dorgal freaking Sorvee? What had he done to the royals to deserve this anyway?
Tor nodded, trying to make himself smile. It was hard and seemed false, which Dorgal didn't miss, but didn't mention either. Rolph gave the boy, a man now, a warm hug and so did the others. Tor didn't move forward for one, and even though he seemed concerned Dorgal kept his distance.
“I, um, was asked by the King to provide a place for you to stay that would be pleasant but not too obvious, I hope this will serve? Let me show you all to your rooms, then I'll give you a tour of the place?” His voice was chipper, pleasant and even kind, which all served to piss Tor off a little.
It wasn't fair of him he knew. Dorgal hadn't made him into what he was. Life and his birth had. Lara Gray and Burks Green had. But not this guy. Taking his anger and sadness out on him would be cruel. Tor just nodded and waited for whatever else would come.
The inside was nice, much nicer than the outside, done to looked like a rustic cabin, but one that the King might use while pretending to be a rough and ready huntsman. There was a lot of exposed wood and soft furniture covered in leather, glowing lights on the ceilings and fires lit in their place. “Guide-fires, not real wood.” Dorgal said cheerfully.
“A good seller. The colors a little too red, but for a novice work it shows great promise, don't you think?” The question was directed at Tor directly, but seemed friendly enough so Tor nodded.
It really was true after all.
Rolph chuckled.
“Dorg, Guide is one of Tor's protegees. He has about six of them. Most of the good new work coming out of Lairdgren is from one of them right now, I'd wager. Brilliant lot of kids.”
“Oh? Even Lyn Cooper? Her tanning device is huge. It would explain why she let me have ten to sell when she found out we're friends then. Great girl. I was thinking of sending a go-between actually. Little young yet, but even if she said no, it wouldn't hurt to build a bridge there, don't you think? She could end up the next Tor in time…” The grin he gave Tor was sly and a little needling.
That was his way though, so Tor just stuck his tongue out.
“Better, Sorvee. She'll end up better than me. They all will be. You'd be lucky to snag her this young, before everyone else learns what she's really worth.” Not that it would be hard to be better than him.
Everyone laughed, but Tor didn't see the joke. He wasn't kidding.
Rolph patted his back gently.
“Kind of a high bar, don't you think? Having to be better than Tor?”
“Not higher than they can jump. They're good. All they needed was a chance. Don't underestimate what a poor kid will do for a chance. They'll do it, because they have to. Their lives depend on it. Possibly in a literal sense. Their whole futures are riding on what they do now. It isn't a kindness, pushing them out of their childhoods like we have, like I've been doing, but they won't fail. Not easily at least.”
Of course if they did, it would destroy them, most likely. Tor didn't mention that, he was already a big enough monster in the eyes of his friends. Adding to it wouldn't make him seem any better.
Still, the kids had a chance. In the end it was all he could really give them. They had to do the rest or it wouldn’t count.
The place had no servants, so Dorgal was cooking a roast deer for dinner. One he’d caught himself. The place was fully stocked with food, but like anyone with money, Dorgal had limited culinary skills, and most of his involved cooking meat, which he'd learned on hunting trips as a child, he told them. Well, Tor could cook, and it would give him an excuse to not mope as much, or hide in his reading and work.
He already had about thirty new devices, most in need of testing still. Hundreds of copies just sitting in his trunk too. Luckily they weren’t very big and he didn’t need any clothing.
The rooms were elegant, if simple, and they could redecorate if they wanted. Ali surprised him by putting her things in the same room with him, then shutting the door behind them.
“I'm Sorry.” Her voice came from behind him, when he turned she was on the floor, bowing over her knees, forehead making solid contact.
“I shouldn't have pushed you in regards to Lilli. It's not your concern, it's mine and Karina's and we've been acting badly. Varley explained why you can't say anything, and I won't ask again. But please, forgive me? I-” She started crying.
“I- can't ask…”
Tor picked her up off the floor and kissed her, the tears having not touched her lips yet.
“You don't have to ask forgiveness from me. We're married and even if we weren't, there are no debts between friends. That means hurt feelings too, not just gold. I'm sorry I'm not a better person, a better husband. I kind of suck at life, don't I?”
He chuckled, and tried not to let it sound dark. It just managed, he hoped at least.
“I'll try to do better.”
The easy part about life with Ali was that she readily accepted sex as an apology and didn't require a lot of explanation from him. It was what they were doing when Karina walked in, shut the door and sighed, looking at them.
“Of course, trust Ali to let a little cock make it all better. Well, shove over then, I might as well get some too if the whole silent treatment and withholding sex thing isn't going to work. Didn't think it would on Tor, but had to try, didn't I?” She turned her clothes off and climbed on the bed, her soft lips kissing a trail down Tor’s back, when she got there she bit his buttocks gently.
“I'd do it harder, but it stings when a shield suddenly activates and your touching it, I really don't want to know what it would do to teeth.”
Tor was inside Ali already and hadn't stopped when she'd walked in, so she reached between his legs and fondled what she could reach of him gently. She tried to work her mouth into place, but the angles were all wrong for it. Tor didn't help her by shifting around until after Ali was well pleased, but then he rolled over to service the Princess too. No debts between friends, even if one of them had been kind of a jerk.
So, at that, as if something had been decided, everyone started acting like nothing had happened at all. The next day it snowed, which made everyone happy at first. The girls and Rolph ran out to look at it and play, even though Rolph had seen plenty at Lairdgren. The guards didn't, until the Prince declared a snow war, then suddenly large and complex battlement went up, the order of the day seemed to be the Royal Guards against royals. Tor cooked and made hot chocolate, which he could only do because of some canned milk and a recipe someone had kindly added to a package of brown cocoa powder from the south.
As expected the guards won that day’s event handily, outnumbering and frankly outmatching the royals, who came in soaked and steaming. They didn't get cold, but apparently the tradition was for chocolate. At home it had always been warm cider, but no one wanted that here. Their loss.
George came in a smile on his face.
“Well, the winner gets to pick the next victim, I mean “opponent” by tradit
ion. So, I think that Tor and Dorgal here will serve well enough, don't you?” The other guards all agreed with happy and somewhat vicious sounding chuckles.
Wonderful, Tor thought, but what could they do? It was tradition. They'd start after breakfast the next day.
Yay.
Vacation.
Chapter Ten
The snow war never happened, since over night the drifts had risen, burying first the steps under piles of rounded white and then the bottom three feet of door itself. It wasn't a catastrophe, since the structure could be changed to keep the door high enough to come and go without too much trouble. People were a little uneasy at first, except for Tor, who'd figured out what to do while he was making sweet rolls for breakfast to go with the fried ham slices that Dorgal had planned. Instead everyone stayed in except to tend to the horses, which the guards did for them, not wanting anyone under their care to wonder out into the deep snow, just in case they got lost.
“Especially Tor.” Veren said with a straight face.
“Agreed.” Captain Wensa said, nodding seriously.
Then after a few seconds everyone laughed. Tor got it, he was short and could disappear under the snow. It was funny, in a kind of abusive and slightly annoying way. Three days later he had to help clear and build a tunnel to the barn though, because they really were afraid of losing people. It was just a simple variation of the houses, far more basic though. Heated, but it just made a tunnel that could be bent around as needed and set to any length. It was new, not one of the things he'd been building on the trip, still, he was so bored it had been a relief to have something else to do.
Rolph was spending more and more time with Dorgal, since they used to be friends it seemed, before Dorg had decided to simply hate Tor for some reason, about the time that Maria had been spreading rumors about him. It was probably related, but it just didn't seem important any more. Who cared right? The past was the past.
It wasn't until the night of the attack that Tor realized the two men weren't just chatting in Rolph's room.
The pounding on the door was unexpected, but very clearly a person, no voice came through the door, being a shield even the pounding was basically just a built in signally device, so the guard that sat in the main room opened it and let the two strangers in. One was of normal height, about six foot plus a bit, and wore very warm looking clothes. The other was more lightly dressed and looked like Tor. Enough so that the guard just assumed that he'd been outside. Natural enough idea really, who looked that much like someone you knew pretty well and saw daily?
Tor felt them in his sleep, having been working on the trip to isolate the whole immortal field pattern for a project. It called to him now, familiar and loud, if a noiseless field, a subtle thing at best, could ever be said to have a real presence. Waking with a start he ran to the stairs, stone steps that were neutral under his feet as far as temperature went. As he ran he switched warm and comfortable purple and red sleeping clothes into fighting leathers, something he'd been wearing a lot for practice lately, so he knew the pattern well. Time seemed to crawl as he darted down the stairs, the double of him raising a hand, an empty hand, as he moved.
“Tor, wait, let me explain.” Burks called out loudly.
Digging in his pocket Tor realized that he didn't have his weapon on him. Well, that was brilliant of him, wasn't it? Go to sleep and not stay ready? He had a shield on, including his new “shield”. The one he'd designed just for this. It looked like testing time then. He kept running, hard.
The other man suddenly darted towards him, moving faster than Tor could track at all. The speed dazzled, the man nearly blurring he moved so fast. Way faster than Burks or Denno had ever shown. Faster than the Larval even, about three times faster and those guys were way faster than human.
“Black! Don't…”
It was too late. Tor’s shield countered the force and started pounding the man, obviously an Ancient too. Lights flared and force lances hit invisibly from different directions, tracking perfectly, instantly. The man was fast and strong enough that he still managed to hit Tor’s field twice more before going unconscious. Tor kicked the man out of the way as he moved on Burks. The shield worked based on proximity. If he was attacked by an Ancient, it would keep fighting for him, targeting that individual until they no longer remained conscious at all. It would work even if Tor was dead. If that happened the field wouldn't stop until the one that killed him died to. Burks didn't seem to get that yet and took a step towards Tor with something in his hand. A mistake. If he'd walked over empty handed and didn't attack, nothing would have happened at all. Oops.
The pummeling was faster than Tor could have tracked if it was coming towards him, but the shield Burks wore buffered him from the worst of it, Tor pointed his right hand and slapped one of his new amulets with intent. For a second nothing seemed to happen and Burks just stood, waiting. Tor smiled.
“You lose.” Then ran to the other man and started applying a beating.
Yes, even after all his practice Burks was so much better that it wouldn't have been a contest at all, except that right now, Tor had a shield and Burks didn't. That was what the new field did. It focused intent, making it a thousand times stronger, to turn off any sigil, even one under a shield. It should work on ones he hadn't made even, as long as the triggering mechanism was standard.
As Burks launched his first attack, probably automatically, without even realizing what he was doing, Tor’s new shield pounded him down. The whole thing lasted about four seconds.
“What the…” Veren ran into the room holding a force lance and had a wild look in his eyes.
A minute later everyone else ran out, including Rolph and Dorgal, both naked and erm, enthused? At least Rolph was holding a weapon in his hand, one like Tor's, a white glassy looking device with eight colored sigils. Dorgal held a knife. It gleamed wickedly, and was nearly as long as a short sword, but in the hands of a naked man with an erection it just looked wrong.
Tor didn't have to be a genius to get the idea.
It was almost as big of a shock as two Ancients coming and trying to, well, whatever they were doing. They didn't have weapons out, so killing him might not have been their plan. Coming to visit then? A bit obnoxious if so, coming at night, unannounced and then rushing Tor like that.
A person could take that wrong, couldn’t they?
“Let's tie them up before they come to. I doubt they'll be long about it. Tie them carefully and let's have three guards on each, just in case.” George, the head Royal Guard got who Lairdgren was, having seen his Tor look alike trick before. He gave the orders smoothly though, like it was preplanned. Then, given who he was, it might be.
The other man looked about forty, but was clearly an Ancient, a tall Ancient, but still, his pattern screamed it's similarities to Burks, obvious differences aside. Plus, the speed the man moved at was incredible. Way faster than anything Tor had seen before. If it had been a fair fight, the other man probably would have taken him, and the Royal Guard in a few seconds.
Good thing Tor was learning to cheat better. He pointed at them, politely though, using a closed hand. It was almost funny that he remembered to do that now, but he didn’t smile.
“Right, both Ancients, so let's not take chances, they both have a thousand times more information and experience than any of us and have probably been held like this before, and have plans ready, so stay alert. When in doubt, knock them unconscious. We can heal them if we have too, as long as they don't escape first.” Tor doubted it would be enough, but with that and the shields, it might buy his side some time. Not everyone had the new defensive systems yet. It worked pretty well though.
Tor might even make them to work against regular people, now that he knew they worked at all. He’d feel better knowing that his friends that didn’t fight very well had something like that to back them up, wouldn’t he?
While that was taken care of and both men were stripped of everything and tied tightly enough that Tor’s a
rms ached in sympathy, Rolph and Dorgal vanished back into the room, coming out a few minutes later dressed in pure black combat leathers. The girls had barricaded themselves in Varley's room, which was smart. Running from sleep into a fight was moronic and would probably mean death. From a safe place in this house, they could have set up a fast carriage and flown out just by making the wall open for them. That had been the plan at least, Varley told them the moment they came out.
It was brilliant of course. Tor decided to steal it for his own escape plan if needed.
The men took about ten minutes to regain consciousness, which meant that Tor's shield had beaten them both a lot harder than he'd intended. Probably enough to do brain damage. He decided not to feel bad about it. After all, very rarely does anyone with good intent hunt you down in the middle of a snow storm and then come for you in the middle of the night. Who did that?
The bad guys did, that's who.
Still, it felt mean to leave them naked and tied up in chairs. Needed, as the larger man he didn't know proved before being even fully regaining his senses, the ropes straining at his wrists. They actually made a creaking sound, then popping noises. Tor sighed and spoke quickly.
“If you break the ropes, we'll kill you. We won't have a choice as fast as you are. I suggest you stop now. Please.” No need to be rude about it, a death threat was bad enough, right?
That the man was tied up with stout rope, by people that had practice in doing such things and was surrounded by weapons didn't seem to intimidate the guy at all. In fact he acted like the Royal Guard wasn't even in the room and addressed Tor directly.
“Oh? The Green baby is going to kill me? I think not. Green doesn't kill easily and you're too young. Come back in a thousand years and maybe I'll believe your threats then.” The accent was thick and clipped but understandable. Tor noticed that this man had emerald green eyes. Pretty.