by P. S. Power
Pissed.
“Oh, get up Tor.” She snapped, nearly the way she used to when he was doing something particularly stupid. Like working himself nearly to death.
“We get it, you're perfect and the rest of us aren't. No need to rub it in.”
Tor rose, just by turning the Not-flyer back on and looked at everyone, the Wards had their heads down and Trice looked half ready to hit him… Gemma however just… laughed. Hard. Oh, she buried it behind a fist, face turning red, but it was real enough. After a second, when she didn't stop, he turned to her and shrugged.
“OK, what? Did I mess something up again? I just meant, you know, that I was sorry for hurting her feelings, that's all. I… Gods and little puppies, I don't know the rules yet at all, do I? I really thought getting married would make all this social stuff easier, but so far no joy on that score.” He turned to the Wards and Trice and sighed.
“If I gave offense… you know, if I did, screw it, will you? I know that you're all good people and like to think I am too. I didn't ever want bad feelings between us and we're friends, right? So, you know, “there are no debts between friends”. If I need to do more… Write it out for me or something?”
He was still too tired and weak for all this crud. Marvin stared for a minute, while Trice glared at him, still looking ready to kick his behind, possibly for real and Maria cried, if more softly. She had a knack for loud sobbing, but was keeping things pretty subdued.
Tor sighed.
“Alright, you can all explain what an evil and retarded bumpkin I am while I get something to eat. If I can find anything. I don't know when the closest meal is…”
Gemma did and told them that it was nearly breakfast time, or near enough no one in the kitchen would complain, being about nine already. She led them all to the dining room, the nice green and wood one that Tor liked and ran off to see to having it delivered for everyone. Tor sat across from Trice, the giant Count next to him, but cozily, not the ten feet apart that was supposed to be the tradition. No one ever did that though. Not at the palace. Not even people that might suddenly start killing each other.
The head of the table was left empty, which Tor figured was just due to the fact that none of them was really in charge there, it being the King’s place. That was shown to be wrong though, when both the King and Queen walked into the room shortly after, with his own wife, two Princesses, one who looked ready to give birth right then, a tall and wild looking bearded Count Peterson and Smythe of Westend.
At least Tor was just floating in place, so he didn't have to get up and move his chair. Oddly he got to stay, while everyone else stood and played royal musical chairs, trying to figure out who sat where based on rank and current favor. Really, he figured, he should have been near the far end of the table, in the poison seat, having neglected his duties for as long as he had. Being infirmed seemed to be getting him out of the worst of the trouble though. No one even suggested a beating. Not yet at least. Trice still glared at him and Maria still had moist eyes. Count Ward had recovered though and smiled at him, from his new place, most of the way down the table.
Maria was at the very end, signifying her as the most out of favor personally. Connie had told her to sit there herself, glaring a bit when she did it.
At least he had Ali sitting next to him now. That was a relief. She could explain what had happened maybe? Only, not, of course, during the meal. She smiled a lot though and covertly held his hand under the edge of the table. It was obvious what she did, but no one seemed bothered by it. Connie just looked at him, fear in her eyes, or possibly worry, and smiled a little weakly. Then, he looked horrible didn't he?
The food was good but he couldn't eat a lot yet. He just got full too fast. That would probably take a week or two to regulate back to normal. He felt better already though. People made small talk around him, which he just listened too.
Count Peterson looked at him suddenly and took a deep breath as soon as the last dish was taken off the table and drinks, brown combat rage sludge and for him a tumbler of clean water. It was chill, but not really cold. Good though, when he sipped it.
“So, um, Lord Baker, about the disposition of the Flight School, I was wondering if we could forgo rents on the place? It's for the war after all and it would be a hardship to work out who exactly had to pay for it at this late date.” The man didn't seem humble about it really, but he also didn't seem like he was kidding, it took a few blinks for Tor’s mind to catch up.
Right, he had the use of the Wildlands, didn't he. The flight school was there, as well as his old house. Still, Lord Baker? Tor smiled and shook his head, making the man scowl a little.
“Um, sure, there's obviously no rent on the land, as long as improvements are made I mean. I have some growing projects coming up, so if some of the men could help with that? Planting some seeds and arranging water flows. They could combine it with flight practice maybe? I don't want to take up all their time or anything, but if anyone is willing to help, that would be good. Kind of part of why I get the land.”
The wild looking man let his eyes go wide for a second, and smiled.
“That's more than fair. Honestly the men have been getting a little lazy to tell the truth. We have a few sections deployed, but most of the time they’re just practicing now. This is the most boring war I ever heard of. Get with me on what is required and we'll make it happen.” As an afterthought the man bowed his head a little and smiled. “Lord Baker.”
Tor shook his head again, which got Varley to giggle behind her hand.
“Oh! No one mentioned that to you?” She looked at the King, who gave her a look, one that clearly said “shut up” but then he smiled.
“No dear, I haven't brought it up yet. Things aren't settled and it seemed unwise to dump anything more on his shoulders at the moment.”
Tor tilted his head.
“Um, what? You know that just saying that and then not telling me is mean right? What's the joke? Did you name me “Lord of Children's Entertainers” or something like that? If so, I'm totally out of my depth. I guess I can get up to speed. Do they even have a guild?” He mugged a little, getting a soft titter from the group as a whole. For a second Tor wondered if they really had. Well, as long as he didn't have to rip his field apart, or do more than suggest that the capering and merry making looked good that day, he'd deal.
The King smiled.
“Counselor of Magics. It's a new position, but one that seems needed with all the new devices coming on the market.” For some reason he didn't seem to be kidding.
The room murmured at him then, “Lord Baker.”
Ah. So not a joke? Goody, more work. Well, as long as it was mainly him nodding his head and telling people good job…
The King continued then looking not at him, but Smythe.
“For now however, both Baker and Morgan are assigned to you Counselor Smythe. For the current investigation. Other than those duties, both are to rest. You have the resources of the kingdom to assure that.”
Smythe didn't smile, “Yes, Sire.”
Then he turned to the others and nodded. “After this discussion we meet.”
A simple enough command. Tor answered, amiably enough. Trice grunted softly, still glaring at Tor as if he'd beaten her puppy. Had he somehow? Maria was her girlfriend and if she thought he was trying to be mean to her, that would do it. Still, how would that work given what he'd said? Had he really gotten something that wrong? Maria still looked miserable. Hugely so. How had an apology caused that?
Blinking Tor realized that that Ali, sitting next to him, was shaking his arm gently. He glanced at her as she spoke, her gaze going across the table.
Karina looked at him expectantly, as if she'd just asked a question. Tor shook his head, making her face fall. Gah. This was all so hard.
“Sorry, what? I was thinking and didn't hear that.”
“I asked if I can go with you back to Lairdgren, just to visit?”
“Oh… Well, yeah, I don'
t know when that will be, and it has to be OK'd by Veren and George, as well as your parents of course, but they already kind of said yes, but, I mean, I have the room and can get you back at need. Should work. Better, I'll just give you a fast carriage and you can take care of that yourself.” It wasn't a perfect plan, because she might try and use it to go after Daria, but as long as she agreed not to and go with using the professionals for that instead, it was a good idea. Really, they should all have them. Tor sighed. Well, he wasn't making them, was he?
No.
The Lairdgren group was. He nodded.
“So, I'll get those down for all of you as soon as possible.”
No one said anything about it, probably thinking, rightfully so, that “as soon as possible” meant months, or years. He let them. It would be a good project for the kids at school, wouldn't it?
After everyone largely left, he floated along with Trice and the older white haired Counselor to his plain, nearly austere, chambers. When they got there he sat Trice down and indicated a good place for Tor to hover.
“The case has stalled. Right now we're in the portion where we desperately grasp at straws and admit to ourselves that without another attack, we simply have nothing to go on. I have the interview playbacks, which both of you should go over. Maybe one of you will find something I missed? Other than that, I simply don't have use for you yet. Until then, I think that it would serve well enough for you both to go to Lairdgren and take care of matters there.” He spread both hands, a thing which got Trice's attention, and some raised eyebrows, but no comment.
“If you could make certain you're both reachable within, say, a days notice? I know that would normally be impossible, but given everything…”
“We can do that. I'll see to it.” Tor said more firmly than he thought he could really manage. Good, but odd.
Smythe rose and ushered them out with a fatherly wave.
“Good. I'm not truly certain why I've been, honored, with having both of you as assistants, but right now I'd take a diseased donkey if it would help. I truly dislike this kind of investigation. Every day I fail to find the killer, it's a chance another innocent dies.” He seemed really sad about it, but Tor understood. He held his right hand out to the man, which he took, if awkwardly.
“Each day we fail. We will find them and stop them. Whatever the cost.” He sounded bold when he said it. Stupidly so.
“Whatever the cost.” Trice added softly, almost crying again.
Smythe just bowed, a little, towards them both.
Chapter Fourteen
“OK, Trice, spill already, I clearly did something wrong and you clearly want to scream at me over it, so, let it out and we can move past it or I can try and fix it or at least feel bad about what an awful person I am.” They were both in the front of the carriage, a fast one, sitting side by side. She was driving, being better at it than he was and nearly back to normal, physically at least. A little thin, but nothing a few good meals and some exercise wouldn't fix. Everyone else was in the back.
That included the Wards for some reason, which he was almost fine with. It wasn't his idea of a fun good time, but, well, he'd said they were all friends now, hadn't he? It meant that he had to let the past with them go.
Except for them getting a bunch of girls pregnant to punish Rolph. He'd forgive his part in it, but Ward had better step the heck up and make sure his child, even if claimed by Count Peterson, didn't suffer for it. Ever. That was part of being a good friend too though, wasn't it? Making sure your buddies didn't mess up too much?
Next to him, Trice went a bit stiff through the face, lips turning white. Then she growled at him.
“You know what you did.” It sounded angry.
Tor just grinned and shook his head.
“No, not this time love. You know that I'm not from here, and that a lot of the rules I know are totally different than the ones you know. If I messed up, either fill me in or let it go, because I really don't have the energy to play three weeks of “you know what you did” followed by two of “It's nothing” and you should get that. Just sitting here is killing my behind you know. Granted, that's my fault, but, you know, it means I'm not up to taking a lot of extra emotional trauma right now. Poor weak little me… So, seriously, what is it?” It could be anything, from giving her the little dragon amulet to, he just didn't know, what she said, voice low and hissing, was unexpected though.
“What did you do? Oh, let's see… That's right, Maria went to bow to you, to humble herself for raping you and you didn't let her. Then, even being sick, nearly to death, you laid on the floor and begged her forgiveness for… I heard it and I still don't know what you were thinking.” She growled again.
“You humbled them Tor. You flat out told them that you were so much better than they are that their apologies don't matter, that no matter what they did to you, you were always the one in control, the “Lord of the Mighty”. People have gone to war over so much less… It would have been better if you just pissed in their faces! At least then they could dodge or take it as a punishment. That's what you did.”
Well. That explained it. Gah. No wonder Trice was angry with him. Tor looked down. His butt hurt. The backs of his legs too, where they touched the seat.
“Alright. I screwed up there then. I really… Well first, rape? I mean I guess it was a violation, but, can a man be raped? I suppose a large man could do it, but… And anyway, I said we were friends, right? So even if she did violate me against my will, I have to let that go. It's a rule.” Tor leaned into her, almost to her right ear.
“How do I fix it though? I… Gods. Do I… No, I just have no clue here. Help!” He whispered it, but the desperation in his voice was real enough, if a little playful.
Trice glared at him. Then, turning to face front she nodded.
“Alright, if you really mean all that, I'll help you fix it. You won't like it though, I can tell you that right now. Though I suppose that if it has to be done, now’s the time for it. Seriously though Tor… Learn to let other people apologize when they wrong you. It's about the worst thing you could have done at all.”
She didn't speak after that, landing in front of Alissa's house. Their house really, but everyone called the one outside the Capital his, so why not? It seemed fair. One good thing about being sick, or whatever they decided to call his current state, perhaps “terminally stupid” worked better, Tor wasn't expected to help with the luggage. Not that hitting a sigil was all that hard to manage. Still, Rolph did that for him without asking if he should. The Wards had a case each and everyone else had either a tiny chest, like Ali and Tor did, or a soft bag.
There were twelve people in all, about the carrying capacity of the old style carriage that Trice had, a lot of them in Royal Guard uniforms. It was kind of obvious Tor realized when they got inside.
Oops. Yeah, they probably didn't want to advertise overly. Karina was a Princess, and someone Tor knew, of course, but “Rolph Merchant” probably wouldn't. It was confusing, but no one else seemed to care about that. The royals all shrugged and Veren just glared at Tor.
“It’s your fault, you fix it.” The giant man rumbled at him, making the Wards both stiffen. Maria's face went sharp.
“How dare you!” She was actually shaking when she said it and approached Veren like she wanted to take him out back and teach him some manners herself. It was almost cute, except for the fact that Veren looked so baffled by it.
“Pardon Countess Ward?” He said, his voice going soft and servile without hesitation. “I'm not certain what you mean?”
“You can't treat him like that! He's… A Knight and a Countier! He's been named the Magical Counselor for the entire kingdom and… You can't speak to him that way!” Then she punched him. In the middle. Flesh hit shield and her hand just stopped as George moved between then casually. Veren just took a step back and bowed. Very low.
“Sorry ma'am…” He sounded so confused it was nearly charming. Oddly enough Karina walked up and stood
in front of Countess Ward and bowed a bit too.
“Don't worry, Veren just meant that he thinks Tor screwed up and should fix it. That's all.” It didn't seem to help until Trice laughed and put her right arm over Maria's shoulder.
“Yeah. Don't worry, it’s a thing people like to do to Tor every now and then. Let's see what he comes up with, since he can't just build his way out of it this time.”
Tor sighed.
“Right. So Royal Guards and cute Princesses with me. Everyone else…” He was going to say they should make themselves at home, but Bonita came out then and stared at the decently large group, looking worried, until she saw Tor, then she looked pale suddenly.
“Um… welcome?” The words were soft and suddenly so shy that Tor floated over to her and gently kissed her on the cheek.
“Hey love. Brought guests for a bit. Is that all right? We should have gotten in touch with you first…” It was a good point he realized. She'd been living there the whole time after all. Sp it was her house too and here he was, high handedly bringing in a trove of strangers.
Though not all of them were.
“Nita?” Maria ran to her with a squeal of happiness.
They were half sisters after all and actually liked each other. Maria started chattering in a rapid, high pitched tone that Tor still couldn't quite make sense of, though Bonita and Trice both could. A girl thing maybe?
Tor smiled, “Count Ward, why don't you come with us too?” He had an idea after all.
Half an hour later he walked them all out of the back parlor, dressed to look like towns folk for the most part, and using the disguise amulets, finally, he got to play around with making them all look totally different than they did before. As a lark they did one up for the count too, making him a long haired, red headed man, with skin that almost matched Rolph's in tone, added lines to the package, aging him up a lot and reshaped the nose to match too.