by P. S. Power
The weapons were reworked too, so that if they started to be blocked by a shield they'd shift to something else, until the weapon got through. That required a built in feedback mechanism, which was the hard part. You could also pick a given weapon type by hitting the glowing sigil for it along the stone rectangle. They were pretty lethal though, so he had to caution against using them carelessly. It was better than nothing, or being stuck, faced with someone wearing a really good shield and holding the wrong weapon in your hand, one that would do nothing. This gave you eight options, two of which would go through even his own shields, well, the old ones at least. He wasn't giving the new ones out this time, since that kept backfiring on him. Well, to Trice and Petra, and maybe a few other people, since if they attacked him, he wouldn't want them hurt by mistake. But no one else. If Smythe attacked him again, the man was going down.
As they flew in to the park in front of the palace, and the Wards estate was that, without a doubt. A beautiful thing in the daylight, white and gold, edging reminding him of a royal’s wedding cake. Easily as large as the King’s dwelling now that he saw it in real light and from slightly above.
Petra waived them down, so they could land near a marble fountain in a paved white stone courtyard. That's what Tor thought it would be called at least. But… a courtyard had to have walls, didn't it? This was surrounded by short, perfectly trimmed grass, palm trees growing in rows along the outer edges and some low bushes that seemed well groomed. They were notable mainly because their broad leaves had stark red shot through them. Pretty but a little freaky looking too.
“We should walk from here, I think. I… don't know what kind of greeting Marvin and Maria will have for me. They may send me away from the city. Maria really hates me…” Petra looked grim, her face set, like she expected to be humiliated by her family in front of her friends.
Tor set up the follow along fields on the luggage and took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze. It was an awkward thing, trying to work with both their shields, but it was the idea that counted. He hoped. Really he didn't know what to do with her now that they'd been together like they had. Was he supposed to keep it secret, act like it didn't matter at all, as if nothing had happened, or treat her as special and wonderful all the time? His inclination was to shower her with gifts and kisses, but no one acted like that. Not royals at least. He was one of them now, so needed to act correctly.
So for someone of her station that meant what? Sleep with her mother? It was a funny thought, but Tor wasn't sure it was an actual joke. The rules were just so incredibly different now.
The walk didn't take long, even at the slow speed they were going, barely a crawl, because Petra didn't want to set off any guards that might be in place. Not because they were dangerous, but just to protect them from Tor. The idea got him to stick his tongue out at her.
“Silly. Like I go around hurting people?”
No one came out to greet them, but when they rang the bell the door opened within a minute. The rope amazed Tor. Really it was the first one he'd ever seen that went all the way down to the ground on a noble’s home. He could have rung it himself with no problem. Honestly he could have knelt and made it work without straining.
Most of the others were so high he couldn't reach them without flying, or at least jumping comically. This was much better. It even looked old, so the tradition was in place before, not just something put in once they were dealing with short little him. Not that they'd have changed for that. He was just playing messenger really.
The person opening the door was a woman, one that had familiar golden blond hair, even though it had been cut in a military woman’s bob, and she was wearing considerably fewer clothes than he'd ever seen her in. Collette Coltress, Maria's half sister and Tor's personal friend. Even if they had only met three times before. Four now. Her eyes went wide in recognition, of Petra first, who she gave a warm familial hug. Letting go she quickly started to hug Trice, if not as warmly than at least perfunctorily enough. She stopped when she realized her left arm was gone at the elbow.
“Patricia… What…” She misted up, which seemed genuine enough. Still, he didn’t want Trice feeling sorry for herself. Oh, she had the right, and he'd probably have been curled up in a ball still, sobbing like a child if it had been him, but he couldn't handle a massive sobbing and crying festival right now.
“Don't pity her too much Collette. She lost an arm, but saved nearly two hundred people doing it. That includes the whole royal family, about half the sitting counts and countesses and their spouses and a lot of other people without such lofty titles, including me. She's a hero.” It came out in a rush, but still sounded proud he thought. “It was a steep price, but should be seen as a badge of honor and courage, not something to be pitied.”
Tor lifted his head, trying to look dignified, which was probably hard in his deep red canvas workman's outfit. Collette let a single tear fall but swept Trice into a careful embrace and didn't let her go for a long time.
Then she turned on Tor. There was enough venom in her eyes to make him wince a little.
“And what were you doing during this event?” Her voice had gone chilly, which he could understand, in a weird sort of way. Collette knew that Trice was her confederate, and that the King had ordered them both to be a little anti-Tor around the Wards, but clearly she expected him to have tried to protect her anyway. Even if he was little, and not as good a fighter as she was. Not as physically strong either, though that kind of made him uneasy to think about. All the giants were probably stronger than he was, even the girls, at least the ones that exercised regularly. Which reminded him to get back to his regular running soon. If you had only one edge you couldn't afford to lose it. Or even let it get rusty. Kolb had made sure he knew that lesson well enough back in school.
“Me? I… just sat there.” Tor said simply. Blankly. It was the truth. People were dying and he hadn't fought at all. He hadn't thought about it before, but it felt weak to him, like he let everyone down.
Trice snorted loudly, and with no dignity or concern for how it might sound, “right… just sat there he says… He stopped six streams, clouds really, of Austran death dust, holding it still in the air. All direct effect, without being in a combat rage, and while he was being tortured by one of the assassins to try and break his concentration. I grabbed the last bomb and it started eating my hand, but didn't spread like the others did. Princess Karina realized what was happening and used a cutter to take off my hand. She missed the first time, not getting all the death dust, but she was true on the second. Saved my life.” If the tone was bitter, it was hard to tell.
Then Trice was a good actress.
Collette nodded, looking troubled but not glaring at Tor anymore and got them all inside, closing the door after the luggage followed them all in. Tor had reworked the latest floats to handle steps, and hills too, so that it could be used to move cargo's of fish. Everyone thought it was a marvelous improvement, except Tor, who realized he should have just made it that way to begin with. That no one called him on his initial stupidity was kind, but he noticed it. Collette smiled as she watched the three trunks follow them in.
“Tor with his magic trunks… You know, if it's not too presumptuous… no, never mind. Everyone else is in the cool room. This way.” She smiled brightly and led them down a large central hallway to a room near the back of the building, which was deeper than Tor had figured it to be. A lot. That meant the Wards little house here was actually larger than the King’s palace in the Capital.
Gah. Who'd waste the materials on something like that?
Well, these people apparently. Or at least their ancestors. But while impressive, a house half as big still would have been as neat and no one would notice the difference, would they?
Marvin Ward, giant, and incredible looking enough that Tor felt a twinge of envy just seeing him, stood and moved to his sister before she was even all the way through the door.
“Pet? Thank god! This is a horrible
mess, everyone thinks we tried to kill a bunch of people and we didn't. I don't know what to do. Help.” The huge man picked his little sister up into a hug that took the younger girls feet all the way off the floor. It wasn't dignified, but it didn't look like the man disliked his little sister either. Not at all really.
Maria stood and smiled. As soon as the Count dropped his sister she started to bow, her hair shining and put up in an elegant fashion with twists, wearing a lovely and nearly shear gown of white, similar to Collette's. The movement looked quite proper until she stood and shook her head.
“No.” She said, looking down. “It's time to put the past behind me properly. Petra…”
Countess Ward went to her knees smoothly and bowed her head contritely. Body upright though. Pretty humble, but not as much as she'd shown Tor.
“I've been rude to you Petra, when I had no call to be, because of something that was my fault to begin with. I can't ask for forgiveness, but I apologize, and ask that I be given a chance to make it up to you over time. If I live that long I mean. If I'm dead you'll just have to trust that I mean it.”
The room went silent. The correct thing to do would be to accept the apology, of course. Even a hick like Tor knew that. It was the right thing to do if someone tried to apologize to you, even if you weren't sure they meant it. The effort counted. But… if there was a lot of bad blood, that could be hard to do. Her answer could be anything from kneeling herself, to slapping the woman, or trying to kill her. Given the shield she wore and the weapon she had on her waist, Tor hoped it wouldn't be that one. She might just be able to take out a large chunk of the Wards forces on her own right now, given her skill set. Maybe all of them.
Instead she nodded seriously.
“Right, well, we can work on that. I…” Reaching down she grabbed Maria under the arms and picked her up as easily as her brother had her. Then she wrapped her in a hug that was gentle enough.
“I can let things go, if you mean it.”
Maria cried.
Chapter eight
The crying went on for a while, with the Count patting his wife on the back to console her, even though it wasn't the loud kind of crying Trice did and really, it didn't seem that unhappy. Why would she be so worked up? Oh, right, death penalty hanging over her head. That could put a person on edge for sure.
He knew the feeling, having worried about that exact same thing twice in his life already. Both in the last year, or just over now. It wasn't a fun place to be. Of course, in both cases he'd actually done what he thought he was going to be killed for. If she hadn't that probably made the whole thing even worse. How did you fight something that everyone thought was fact if it wasn't?
Petra looked around uneasily and saw her mother sitting on the right side of the room, which created a sudden stir, more hugging and laughing to go along with the crying. Not knowing what to do Tor looked around, avoiding direct eye contact while everyone else dealt with their own issues and greetings. The furniture was odd, made of wicker, like giant baskets with cushions in them. There were pads in the chairs, in a deep green material that looked like the Lairdgren colors.
The walls were a cool blue, nearly white and the light came from a magic plate on the ceiling, but not one Tor had made. It was a nice color though, and the plate itself felt like silver. The field was a little weak and would probably stop working inside six months.
Well, fields failed. You rented magic, you didn't own it, not really. On the far wall, behind where Maria and Marvin stood, there was one of his devices, a temperature control plate. That was probably why this was the cool room. Ah. Tor kind of wondered why the whole place wasn't done, but then he smiled. It was huge. It would be easier to get personal temperature equalizers for everyone. He could do that later. Well, some he could do now, he had about twenty with him, the glowing emotion reading ones.
When Maria saw Trice she smiled wetly at first and moved towards her, then… she shrieked.
“Patricia! What did they do to you? I… Gods…” Now the crying got loud and of course it started Trice off.
Well.
There goes the afternoon, Tor thought, holding his mind in a peaceful state. It was going to happen after all. What happened next was… interesting. Sobbing and crying, Maria started kissing the other girl. Hard. It wasn't just a comforting thing at all either. She pulled back and held the slightly smaller woman’s shoulders, staring at the stump.
“I promise you, we'll find the people that did this to you and make them pay! Even if it's the last thing we can do. I promise it!” The words were fierce and angry, but softened immediately, tears replaced with a cold rage. “Oh, my love…”
Tor let Petra explain everything. Luckily everyone agreed that the Austrans were at fault and not Karina despite her hand having done the actual cutting. She was, more or less, just the surgeon on the scene after all. Ward didn't approach, which was a little odd, because Tor had figured that Trice had been sleeping with him to gain entry to the household. And for fun. The guy was famous for scoring with beautiful woman after all and Trice was certainly that. The giant man just looked at the scene and nodded a little. To his credit he seemed genuinely worried for Trice when Tor mentally touched his field. It was a complex jumble, but jealousy didn't rate in the mix at all. Hardly at all. Tor felt as least as jealous of the scene the two girls were making and with a lot less reason.
Collette remembered they had guests first and sent for cool drinks, since she was acting as hostess. Tor didn't really get that at first, but Petra did, after a few minutes of Maria not acting properly.
“Oh!” The large girl turned to Tor her eyes going wide. “They're your prisoners, so they can't act as host or hostess. Have you stayed in your home the whole time, since Tor last was here?”
Marvin sat down with a thump.
“Yes. It's boring, but we weren't told what we were allowed to do or not. Mother said that Tor wouldn't insist we stay in our rooms however, and even Collette agreed, so we took liberty of the house. Is… that alright?” He sounded shy and a lot younger than his nearly forty years.
That really was fine with Tor. His only real stipulation was that they presented themselves at the appointed place for the investigation into the matter and to court, if there was to be a trial at all for it. If they were cleared, there simply wouldn't be. Maria stopped cuddling and cooing at Trice then, her eyes still wet, but her face suddenly still.
“We're… to have a real investigation first? I…” She started crying again, but with a smile. “We hadn't thought to get that! We figured that it would just be a show trial and then we'd be put to death. How did that happen? The King wouldn't buck that many nobles for us, not after everything, it would be too much to hope for… did Sir William Smythe step in for us then? If he leads the investigation everyone will have to admit we're innocent!” She sounded happy and suddenly triumphant.
“Ah…” Tor said, feeling horrible suddenly.
“No.” Trice said shortly. “Tor stepped in for you. Smythe ambushed Tor and they fought. They were both left completely blind by the weapon Smythe used. Tor had to take his right hand to get at it and fight already blind. I was there. It was… horrible. Smythe gave no warning and the situation didn't warrant an attack at all. He just moved on him… King Richard thinks that it was due to fear on the Counselor’s part, but he's blind now and only has one hand. So he's pretty useless in this.”
Two things happened then. Maria gasped and clutched her hands to her bosom, scared again. Actually projecting her fear, near terror, into the room. The Count went wide eyed and openly stared at Tor.
“You bested Sir Smythe… in single combat? Both with the same shields and him having the only working weapon? And… while totally blind? I…” The man straightened and bowed. “I apologize again for my conduct at the meeting concerning Countess Thorgood. Please forgive me.” He sounded totally humble, which Tor really didn't like. He was the one who should be humble here, wasn't he? If they were going to break with
that tradition he'd be set adrift, not knowing his place at all.
Tor waved him up.
“Already forgotten. My part at least. The Prince too I believe.” He bowed back a little. “Really, I never took it personally at all anyway, so it was never an issue. I hope that…” Tor couldn't think of the next words and froze, but the Count just winked at him.
“Good then. One less thing to worry over.” The smile he gave was so strained it barely made the classification, but the man tried. That counted too. Right?
The idea that formed as Maria cried helplessly turned his stomach more than a little. Tor could fix the man’s eyes. Possibly even with the device he'd made for healing, so it wouldn't even be hard. It wouldn't regrow a hand, but would probably heal the wound. It had on Trice at least. She still covered the stump, but that was just to keep it from making people sick, she said. If the hand for her could be made to work, then he could probably make one for Smythe too.
The sick making part was that the guy would probably kill him at some point if Tor did. Everyone else kept talking like the man was a saint, beyond reproach and nearly perfect at his job, but Tor just couldn't see it.
What it came down to then, was that these people’s lives, people he didn't have any great reason to love — apologies or not — were worth more than his. Tor had to put that off for a while, the idea was too big to process all at once. Instead he went to his case and started pulling out things from the bottom and piling them on the floor quietly. He had four piles set up after a few minutes. After a bit he realized that everyone was staring at him.
“Presents.” He said simply.
“Sorry, I know that they should be different for everyone, and these are kind of generic, but I… kind of had to rebuild my inventory of stock recently, and things have been a little hectic…” He held up a group of glowing amulets on strings. They just had a cool blue color for now.