by P. S. Power
The room nearly exploded then, from the sound of it. A half dozen people sounding shocked, and at least one that was clearly enraged by the idea. That, from the voice, was Smythe, the Military Counselor, and all around swell guy.
"I cannot believe this. The shame of it! What will we tell their families? The people of Noram? Your Majesty, I too must offer my resignation. This cannot be allowed to stand, I also allowed my name to be used in these people's promotion to the rank. Forgive me..."
"Please, Smythe, get up..." This wasn't whispered at all, but was spoken away from the device enough that it was clearly real.
It was getting the attention of the people dressed in their High Servant robes at least. The ones around them looked about ready to soil themselves when they caught the idea that the King and his whole council thought that what they were actually meant something, new or not. That was a bit of a miscalculation on Tor's part then, since he'd have to go to prison now it seemed.
Maybe they'd still let him work while he was there. He'd miss Ali, but the kingdom didn't really need a Magics Counselor at all. There were about a thousand Knights too, so that was taken care of. They even had the Lairdgren Group, so as long as he did his bit with the new space carriage drive system, it would work. He did want a non-rape prison though, if possible. That would be scary, and uncomfortable.
Karen started to chuckle though, a little evilly.
"I kept telling you all that this was something big. You took the vows, and have to stick by them now. King Richard? May I have one more week to try and get these poor excuses for High Servants into line? I'd hate to have them all kill themselves, when one or two of them might actually be useful, with a little more of a chance." Her face said that really wasn't all that likely at all, but it would make her look bad, so it was worth a shot. In potential at least.
"Yes. Do that Sir Karen. I'd hate to lose half my advisors in one day. Tor, would you attend us here at the Palace? We need to discuss some things. Including the rather unusual escape from the prison last night. You've heard?"
"Not at all. Is everyone alright?" It was his turn to be afraid now, but the King actually chuckled.
"It was just a young boy, apparently he figured out how to open the doors and simply walked out on his own. We don't have a name. Gerent said he refused to give one the whole time, and wouldn't speak. A bit of a blotch for him, but these are hardly high profile prisoners. I take it he feels badly however?"
Tor found himself walking toward the door.
"I'll check on that and come directly after, Sire. I was just in the area to drop off a friend that was visiting, and to bring Gerent some new pumps to water his gardens. I have some for the city as well. To protect the outer walls. That way people can grow things here and green the place up a bit. We should mark out some territory early and put in that fruit orchard." He had them with him, along with several hundred other fields, but there were only four types of new things, made in batches of twenty. He was going to give Sara some he remembered, which he pointed out to the King, who seemed pleased enough by that idea. The white robed people were all standing around, looking bemused, almost amazed at the sudden turn. Until Karen started yelling at them to go find some real work and help people. Or there would be blood.
It sounded like it would hurt to him.
"I'll be a few hours most likely, sir." The cells weren't a real prison, and this kid that escaped must have been bright enough to figure that out. The big shock was that more of them just didn't go with him.
"Understood Tor. Don't be too hard on Gerent, this is a facilities problem from my understanding. Unless they just let the boy go, and are saying it's an escape? Find out, will you?"
That might well be the case, if the kid had a good enough story. Tor knew he might have let them all go, if it were him. It was one of the reasons he hadn't taken the task on himself.
Sara looked around the place and seemed to be considering something, but Tor just moved to his case again, after saying his goodbyes for now to Richard, and then made up a second floating box for her. She got ten of the new kinds of pumps, since most really were for the city and Gerent, but he explained how they worked pretty carefully. Then he had more of the fields that built underground dwellings, which, he pointed out, were permanent and could be linked, so that if you had the land, you could make something of almost any size in a few hours. The dirt was compacted into the walls, so it should barely show on the surface in most places. It could reshape rock too, if it was in the way.
"These are kind of new too, but more of a... It probably doesn't make sense, but it will let you seal seams on fabric by weaving the threads together. So you don't have to sew. I know, with the clothing amulets..." The blushing was pretty bright, but merchant that she was, Sara got the idea.
"Right! Most people can't afford that, and this will speed up making clothing and other things. Or should." She looked around, but they didn't have any cloth around to demonstrate it on. For that they had to get help, which came from Glaren, who was busy in the kitchen, but also had a few sewing projects going on at any given time. It was a hobby of hers.
She set up on the table in the dining room, a simple looking dress laid out, cut into pieces. The fabric was nice, but not of the finest quality, a kind of smooth cotton Tor thought.
"This is for Mags. She's the upstairs maid, but new, so she hasn't had a chance to save a lot of coin yet. A very nice young woman. So how does your new monstrosity work?" The words were bland, but Sara glared at the woman pretty hard. She didn't even notice though. That surprised him when he touched her field. Glaren didn't hate him in any way, or Sara, but she thought of them like little children. Or pets. It was that noble thing again.
If she had it though that had to mean her daughters did too. Almost certainly. Collette? They got along so well though. He knew she liked him. It was clear almost all the time... But then, people liked dogs too, right? They thought they were better than they were, and should be in charge, but were fond of them. Even loved them, in a way.
"When you're ready just lay out the piece you want to join and run the little square over it, sigil side up. Match the edges." He knew it would work, but it was faster than he thought it would be, and while it took a bit of a careful hand to not miss anything, and precise matching of edges, the whole thing, the entire dress, was done in about seven minutes. Glaren held it up for inspection and shook it out.
"Flawless seams. I should give my notice and become a fine dressmaker before everyone has one of these things." She smirked a bit and seemed a little sad for some reason, since a part of her knew that couldn't happen. She was a noble, and they didn't work themselves, in the main, they owned. They hired. Even her function at Tor's Palace was only tolerable because she could pretend it was just a favor for her daughter, who was too busy to manage things herself.
That was a complex mess though, since she had to take in work to keep herself going, even though Tor was most generous, she couldn't accept a salary from him, or that would make her an employee. Under him. It was one thing for the cat to think themselves lord of the house, but galling for it to be true.
Tor felt annoyed to know all that, but tried to let it go. She couldn't help it after all, and was almost gentle about it, in her own way. Better than most, which meant she was a good person to her core, no doubt.
"Well, if you promise to keep helping us here, since you're family and all, I'll give you ten of these, so you can start your own place? Some coin too for rent, to get it started. You'll own the place, which isn't the same as making all the dresses with your own hand, but it's the best I can manage without losing you from here. Collette is so pressed managing her own businesses." The woman took the stack of tiles he gave her, and after a few seconds a small bag of coins. There were silvers and golds in it. Not a vast sum, but enough to rent a shop front and pay for people while she got it all going. If she needed more he could funnel it to her. After a second he rolled his eyes and dug in the back of his chest. "For
cloth. If you get with Timon he might get you a deal on something from Afrak. Or possibly Sara here. Tellerand has some fine fabrics too, don't they?"
That got a very warm smile and a pat on the back, along with a small hug. At least she didn't pet him or suggest he run out to play.
Then he handed Sara the last stack of tiles, but only ten of them. The sigil was familiar to him, a stylized house, with a peaked roof.
"Places like this one. Technically half the funds for my part belong to Collette, so try to keep that in mind when you make your deliveries. If anyone can afford them. The price should be coming down soon though, so at least there's that." He explained about the templates the Lairdgren Group had now for that.
She kissed his cheek in response.
"Thanks Tor. This is a lot to trust me with. I know that things haven't always gone that smoothly with us. I've done a lot of things that aren't that trustworthy where you're concerned." She seemed sad about it, but not weepy this time.
He hugged her and felt a surge of love for the woman, her firm and rather nice body pressed against him.
"We can fix that, in time. Besides, I think that Ali is planning to claim you for real. You should get with her and see if that means you're living with us now. I know you might want to stay in the Capital, but you can use this place, once we get rid of all the High Servants. At least the bothersome ones that might have me going off to prison." He growled, which earned a small laugh and then a warmer kiss from the woman.
"Try to avoid that, I hear the food is terrible." Then she sobered, but didn't add anything about what had happened to Trice and Gerent, even though it was what she was thinking.
"Not in the one I'm about to visit. Well, I better be off to that then or the King will think that I don't like him anymore, and become all despondent over it. Poor man, what would he do without me?" Tor chuckled but answered his own false question, looking in the lovely blue eyes in front of him.
"Oh! Wait, I know that one. He'd sleep better at night and have only a third the worries." It was over-exaggerated and he mugged a little for her, which got a bit of a laugh.
The only thing there was, in the end, he wasn't certain that it might not be the simple truth of the matter.
Chapter nineteen
Gerent hadn't let the boy go at all, and was actually rather frantic about the whole thing. Not that he was in trouble for it, but the guards were military and felt that they'd been too soft on everyone, which allowed it to happen. Tor doubted that, when he figured out what had actually taken place.
"Ah... here it is, there's a very small... hole in the back wall, under the bed." It was just the right size for him to crawl into, his thin and small body nearly too big for it. The guards hadn't even considered it as an exit and neither had Gerent, since he couldn't have worked into the tight space either. Once through Tor realized what had to have happened. All of the cells along that wall had been made smaller by about eighteen inches, which made a very narrow corridor that ran toward the south of the building. It took a long time to find the end, since it wrapped around to another tiny hole hidden from the view of the soldiers who were in their housing, safe and snug, except for the guards that would have been watching.
Using his Not-Flyer so it wouldn't take too long, Tor went around the whole structure, which was large enough that it still took about three minutes, even at a decent speed, and got back into the cell, where people were talking about sending a rescue team in for him.
They jumped when he spoke though, Captain Peterson spinning on him with a club in his right hand.
"This was the way out. Whoever did it didn't just get how to arrange a structure like this, they did it carefully and over time, so no one would notice. Days, probably. My guess is that he's either a very well trained spy, or possibly a builder. No effort was made to fight his way out, so I don't think a warrior type. If he isn't either of those things... send him to me when you find him and we'll get him a job. This was... solid work." Tor could have done it, and maybe Collette. Possibly Ali would figure it out and have the nerve to try for it. Lyn Red had the skill. Burks.
He couldn't think of anyone else that it would work for. Not for certain. Alphonse? He knew to not think of a magical field as actually being in the stone or metal, strictly speaking.
The thing there is that almost all of those people would have simply made a hole large enough to walk through and just closed it behind them. This looked wrong. Tor focused on it and tried to think through it all. Why leave the openings, if you were smart enough to figure out how to make them to begin with?
To leave clues for someone to follow? But why? What did this actually say, anyway?
Nothing came to him for a moment, but then things started to click into place, his mind working in an unaccustomed fashion. Without really meaning too he started to speak out loud.
"This person was very small. No larger than I am. So either of common stock or very young. Well, or an Ancient. What did the boy look like?"
Gerent started to speak, but Captain Peterson went instead, talking right over him, as if not noticing it at all.
"Like you really. Clearly a boy, but too pretty. Short, but taller than you, half a hand span maybe? Four or five inches?" He help up his hand and while it wasn't ten inches across it was a lot bigger than Tor's, that was for certain. "Brown hair, brown eyes. Common looking, except the proportions. Like I said, good looking. Not so pale as you. About like me?" That would mean a fairly deep walnut color then.
Tor tilted his head and tried to put it all together.
"Alright, so... looked like a commoner, but wasn't. If he was then there'd be no escape most likely. He would have stayed as ordered. Some kind of small noble? It happens."
That got a look on the Captains face that said he didn't think it likely at all, ignoring the fact that two such beings were within his arms reach at that moment. Tor didn't bother correcting him.
Gerent sighed.
"Or an Ancient. Do you know any tiny Ancient men that wouldn't have just said who they were and told us to let them go?"
"Actually that description could be Denno Brown. I don't think it is though. I... Wait." It took a bit, but he found Tim's sigil on the communication device and tapped it, not knowing how long it was going to take for him to get back in touch at all. There wasn't a lot to do but wait though. They'd pretty much finished what there was to do there.
"Timon Baker." That was all that was said at all. It had a very cool and professional tone to it, like a person who was concentrating on another task while they spoke.
"Hey Tim. Could we have had Denno locked up in our cells here do you think?"
"That... Not the man himself. I was just with him at least, not three hours ago. In Austra. Actually I'm being sent off to fetch you, truth be told. To invite you to come visit and see to the disposition of the Larval Assassins. They seem pretty well under control right now, but he really wants you to know that first hand. Plus everyone here is singing the praises of 'The Tor' and want to lavish you with lauding and gifts. Projections here say that almost ninety percent of them would have died from the plague, but the death toll is about five percent of that, and that's to all the healing amulets you let them borrow." There was silence for a few seconds and then he kept talking, changing the subject smoothly. "I'll be ready to go back out in the morning. Is that good for you? I know my way around, so it makes sense. There are some tricks to it. You'll see."
"I'm not certain. I need to see about Ali first though. I can't just run off without her and she has school. Especially since I just ran away for months. I don't know that it will work at all."
"She has an off day... only a single one, the day after tomorrow. If we leave after her last class, which should be Fundamentals of Building, that will put her out at three... We can be there by about eleven our time then. Maybe midnight, if we have to be careful about the people on the dock. That varies. As long as we don't let anyone know that you two are coming it should be alright. Let me kn
ow though, so I can make other plans if that's not happening. I don't want to waste time. The Fast Transport Service lost out on our big Soam trip, thanks to the fear of war. We're having to scramble to make that up." There was just a hint of accusation in the boy's young voice, but Tor didn't rise to it. After all, he didn't create this mess and while he could have done more to stop it, the Soam trip still wouldn't be happening.
Really, he decided to just keep out of it all, the fighting and other stupid things, as much as he could from then on. He was getting a bit sick of all the tall people really. Even the ones he liked. They were an awful lot of work.
"I'll check tonight then. Are you certain it's alright to bring her? I don't want to impose." It also might not be safe. That was the point of him going, to check that out.
"That will be fine. She can stay in your room and act as a shield for you in public. Otherwise... Well, that's another thing to see. I don't think that you'll believe me if I just told you."
They broke the connection and Tor shrugged, not knowing who else fit that mold really. A clone of Denno? Some random boy that was smart, but not as clever as Tor thought? That was the most likely answer. He was probably just making up things so that he wouldn't feel bad about the escape.
Walking slowly he triggered the white focus stone in his hand for the Palace and waited, moving slowly down the hallway. It wasn't going to be a great report, but he was ready to give one. When someone finally got on with him, it was Connie, who cleared her throat and tried very hard not to sound sultry with him. It was taking work though, and he was almost certain that the other people with him got that. Countier Peterson smirked, and covered it roughly with his right hand. The move was a bit girlish for the rough looking, dark bearded giant, but at least he made some effort to be polite.