Knight of the Realm tya-3

by P. S. Power

  Tor didn't get it in words, he just knew all this about her. With a wink he moved back to his seat next to Sara, even though there were a lot of other places to sit, enough for forty big people or nearly sixty of him.

  Then she wanted to talk, if his morning meditation was over, she said softly, leaning into him warmly. He smiled and nodded. Why not? She could tell him all the things he'd been too stupid to get on his own. What she shared was all about people, some he knew, a lot he'd only heard about. It was all interesting, if in an odd way.

  “My brother Kris is finally getting married. I just heard last week. It's a good marriage too, one we've needed as a house for a while. Meredith Sorvee? Kris said she's a little plain looking, and a widow with two children already, but her temper seems gentle enough and her dowry is about as large as any I've ever heard of. Apparently a benefactor delivered a nice chest of gold on her behalf, anonymously in the night. Two thousand gold, just sitting in a chest outside the door with a letter saying it was for her future and that more would come. Isn't that exciting? It's like a fairy tale. Some gallant Knight swooping in, or a rich priest taking care of a woman left in a desperate situation. Of course as a Sorvee, her position can't have been that bad, even if it was just by marriage.” Sara leaned against him again in a more friendly manner, the tale of Meredith obviously making her gooey girlish center all happy for a bit.

  “Who do you think it was? That left the gold I mean?” She asked innocently, seeming not to remember that Meredith had asked for his hand once.

  Tor shrugged. It was obvious to him, given everything.

  “Dorgal Sorvee.” It was said with the matter of fact air of a person that knew a fact, not someone making a guess. Then, he did know, didn’t he? Oh, maybe he had some point in it, but then, by that thinking, so did Rolph. He’d delivered the amulets and devices after all. Clearly making good on Tor’s request.

  Sara straightened eyes going wide. When she turned to face him her breath caught.

  “The one that always called you names and tried to intimidate you? He… doesn't seem the type, does he? Sorvee’s aren't known for being generous to those in need. Oh, they won't let a distant relative starve and are even honest in their own way, but this…” Skepticism seemed to be going around that day.

  Why not Dorgal?

  “There's a difference between not liking me personally and being a bad person though, isn't there? Dorgal made some mistakes, but he could have tried to hurt me and gotten away with it back at school, but he never did. He threatened, and made me think he would, but in the end he held his hand if not his tongue. Kids do stupid things sometimes, hanging on to that doesn't help anything.” Tor grabbed a pastry from the box, leaving it half full and passed it to the guards in the back since they were all big enough to be hungry most of the time. Sara grinned and snagged a second one too.

  They stopped halfway there so that people could relieve themselves and stretch their legs a bit. The breeze was humid, since they neared the southern coast, though hadn't put down on a beach. There was grass and some trees nearby.

  There was no scent to the air, not for him, because his new shield filtered all that out pretty well. Sara picked flowers and got a smile from Smythe, who winked at her and kept walking in a large circle, getting what exercise he could. Tor went through a set of stretching exercises and then he and Sara had a practice match with shields on, so mainly punching and kicking, since throws were useless this way and holds hardly worked at all. You could, at times, bend a shielded limb to your advantage, but joint locks tended to fail with even a little squirming motion. One at a time the different guards came over and tried their hand against them too. They were all better fighters than he was, but Sara held her own, nearly. It was better than sitting at least and they worked with him too, even if he wasn't as much of a challenge, so Tor kept trying to do his best.

  When they got back on everyone but he and Sara were sweating pretty hard. Was it warm? It took a second to find them, but he handed out the new glowing emotion tattling equalizers and suggested that people keep them hidden, unless they wanted to share with the world what they were feeling. Smythe wore no particular expression as he passed them around, until Tor gave him one too. Then the older man went cold and disproving.

  Because obviously that was the polite thing to do when someone gave you a gift. Right?

  “Trying to buy my good will with trinkets like a common whore boy?” He said, his voice mean and angry sounding.

  Sara stared at the man, and looking around he noticed that everyone else was too. One of the Royal Guards let their hand fall to the weapons pouch at their side, the tall black haired woman that looked half hawk and still would have been exotically pretty if she didn't currently have a sneer on her face. She wasn't staring at him this time. No, her gaze was only for the Counselor.

  “Nope. This is just part of business. We need you focused on getting the truth, not hiding in the shade fanning yourself in misery.” Tor held up his right hand, “Not that you would, but it's hot and humid there, all the time. If you can't sleep for days or whatever, that effects what you can do, no matter how tough you are mentally. This will help. Take it or not, it isn't a trick or bribe, just a tool to make work easier. However it certainly is meant to win everyone else's good will though.” Tor gave him a gentle and bemused look, trying to show disdain without being the rude one. Which was still rude, he realized, so he made himself stop and just nod a little instead.

  Smythe put the amulet on coldly and triggered it, then fought not to show how much better he felt. The guard woman relaxed, but kept her eyes trained on the man the whole time. At least one of them did, always. They looked at Tor occasionally, but didn't focus like that.

  So… had they been ordered to watch the Counselor? That made sense and let him feel a bit better. It would be nice to think that not everyone blamed him for everything at least. He kept having the odd idea that he was in trouble, even though he'd only tried to help people and do what they asked.

  And put up with more crap than anyone should have too. Well, having Smythe along should make the Wards feel better in a lot of ways. After all, the guy had tried to kill him, and here Tor was, working with him, if not actually forgiving him yet. Did that make him look weak? Probably. But then, who was he fooling? He wasn't the biggest or the strongest, not the best fighter in the room even. Really, he wondered if he could even take Sorlee if it came to it. If she was well trained the case may be he couldn't. He really needed to do his running when he could. Well, maybe he'd have time when he wasn't working on this investigation mess. Smythe really didn't want his help, so what else was there to do? Right, make that hand for Trice.

  Sara jostled his arm.

  “Um, Tor? Your bag is glowing.” She pointed helpfully, since he'd obviously been thinking. Of course with him something glowing suddenly could actually mean anything from a sigil being turned on by accident to an explosion about to take place, so he smiled at her and hurried to fix it.

  Tor opened it quickly and hit the sigil that said “Capital”, it was glowing blue, and floating about a half inch above the focus stone, exactly as planned.

  “Hello?” He said loudly enough that everyone looked at him with interest. Most of them knew about the communications devices already. Sara gave him a strange look though, as if he were talking to himself. Again.

  Like he talked to himself? He didn't even mutter in his sleep. Not that he could recall at least. The nerve of the girl. It took an act of will to keep himself from smiling.

  Richard spoke, sounding like his voice came from the palm of Tor's right hand. Crisp and clear.

  “Tor! I wanted to try this and see how it worked. Can you hear me?” The familiar voice of the King, with several people whispering excitedly in the back ground.

  “Sure can. It looks like we’re about half an hour outside of Warden right now, so it seems like the range is going to work fine on this.”

  The was a bit of rustling in the background. />
  “Hi Tor!”

  A happy, but unfamiliar voice came across suddenly, softer than the King’s. It got a laugh from the room. Wait… Karina's friend with the cute face and the large breasts?

  “Hello Ali.” Tor had to smile. The girl had a sweet innocence about her. It made his voice sound kind and gentle, thinking that.

  Sara gave him and odd look but didn't speak. It was, Tor finally realized, reading her field almost as a matter of habit, Sara's jealous look. He'd seen it before, but never got what it was supposed to mean. Usually it had been aimed towards Trice though, so it could be faked up in an attempt to manipulate him. Only, he knew for a fact it wasn’t. Not this time.

  The King sounded very happy when he continued.

  “Excellent! With this I can confer with you all daily and even sit in on interviews or hold my own at need. We'll rush those other units out to their destinations directly.” A little more softly the King asked who had the duty.

  The question was going to the room in the palace, but Tor knew the answer.

  “Squire Gemma. She knows where everything needs to go, and how the devices work, so she can teach others.” For some reason this got a small stir from the room on the other end of the device.

  “Of course. Well, she is a Squire, I'd normally prefer to send someone older, but… well in war we must rob children of their youth too soon at times. Do we have a transport we can spare?”

  From the front Sorlee called out, loudly, since she was flying and couldn't turn around.

  “Several at Wildlands Station, your highness sir, um Sire, ask for Ferra at the whorehouse, she's as good a driver as any and, likes kids. In a motherly way of course. Plus she's got a good direction sense, if you're flying all about the kingdom. Be good practice for her too, if we set up a whole fleet to go all around the land as planned.”

  Rolph laughed loudly and offered to go too. After all, Ferra was kind of cute. It was a joke, clearly, so everyone else chuckled along.

  Everyone stopped laughing when the King agreed.

  Except Tor. It really was kind of funny.

  Chapter twelve

  Tor hit the sigil hanging on the inside wall that changed the way the craft looked about a half mile from Warden, after conferring with Smythe on it. The white haired man didn’t smile or frown about it, he just nodded twice, agreeing with the timing.

  Sorlee went slow, drifting low over the city while people pointed and looked up at them waving, and calling to them happily. So far this was the friendliest place he'd ever been, people smiled at you and said hello even if they didn't know you, and rarely fought with each other, at least in public. It happened, that was kind of natural, people being, well, people, but the feeling was one of happiness over all.

  They settled in the spot that had held the demonstration magic house when he was last there, it having been taken down. The grass had suffered under it, but was starting to come back. The other place, where he'd been living, looked better already. Tor wondered if he should find a new place for his house here, so that the nice and well cared for lawn didn't suffer? Maybe there was a good space outside the city? After all, they didn't have a problem with flying here, since almost no one did it and there were fewer noble kids to race through the streets crippling children by bashing into them.

  This time they were met by the Count, his wife, the Dowager Ward and Trice, who seemed happy enough at first, but let her face fall when she saw him. He scowled back angrily, then forced his face into an obviously fake smile. Sara saw all this and looked worried, which she honestly felt for some reason. He knew because he was holding her hand, and it tightened in his. Letting go he triggered his shield and looked at her smiling warmly until she did the same.

  Smythe walked over to the Wards confidently in his gold and cream robes, and bowed deeply, holding it for a full ten seconds. Then as one the whole Ward family present bowed back. Trice didn't, but then neither her life, nor the life of her child was on the spot, was it? They probably would have openly groveled if it would help. Then again, maybe not. The nobles had a weird sense of pride about some things, even if it meant getting killed or going to war.

  As Ursala had put it once, using colorful language, which she did on occasion when she was teaching him about sex, “a noble may suck a stable boys cock, or let him do them up the behind, but never bow to him”. It had sounded like an actual saying at the time, but since she had started doing some interesting things right on top of that, he hadn't questioned any of the implications. He'd just accepted that he was supposed to be the stable boy in the situation, after all, his place in society was a lot lower than hers.

  Oddly the Wards all bowed to him too, so he returned it quickly. Had he messed up the timing? Was he supposed to bow to them first? Stupid bowing. He'd thought he was up on that, but new situations had different rules. Sara curtsied next to him, a strange cross legged bow that women used about half the time. She timed her actions to his, so she was claiming to be under his protection? Not the military leaders? Um… Well, he would protect her, if he could, spy or not. Sorlee had done the same behind him he thought, and held it until everyone else had stood up. When in doubt, keep bowing? Made a lot of sense to him.

  That done Smythe took over. Fiercely.

  “You asked for a fair and impartial investigation, and me by name. It will be delivered. I'd like to start the investigation now. Baker, you're with me. Bring any tools or skills you have that you think may be of use.” His tone was matter of fact. Not demanding, not mean. Count Ward stared at both of them uneasily and covertly glanced at the old warriors missing hand while Tor collected his trunks.

  They set up in the cool room, though absolutely everyone there had an equalizer, including the servant that offered iced drinks. Tor accepted a cool water and seeing this, Smythe did the same then suffered to let Tor check it for poison. As an afterthought Tor went around the room checking all the others too, since no one had pulled out a poison detector at all. Oddly enough it seemed almost official, kind of like he and Smythe were saying that everyone in the room was under their protection.

  That done, he got out his little kit of devices. Focus stone circles to record what was said, the Ward's new communication plate got attached to a low table, and some new amulets on flat glasslike disks with a glowing pink pattern on it. A stylized “T” with lines through it. It looked good on the white. Soft and friendly. He handed one to each of the Wards, the servants in the room and as an afterthought, to Trice, and asked them all to hit the sigil. They glowed a cheery golden yellow and cream in a nimbus around them, which covered a foot from their body in a light easily visible to all. It wasn't bright enough to read by, but in a very dark room you could navigate by it, and not hit the walls, so it was good enough. It looked a lot like Smythe robes, and that wasn't an accident, but no one else seemed to notice.

  Well, as insults went it wasn't a very good one, was it?

  Everyone seemed curious but Smythe silenced them with a glance, as if he knew exactly what was going on, being in on the plan himself. Tor suddenly felt cheap and mean for not having clued him in first. If he'd been rude to him before, and more than a bit cold… now the older councilor was all business, proper and working as if they were teammates, not mortal enemies. Suppressing a sigh Tor contacted the palace using the Warden communications device, the King's voice coming a few seconds later.

  “This is King Richard Cordes. Are we to begin?”

  Smythe stood and bowed to the plate, a useless, but respectful gesture, so Tor copied it. These were formal proceedings after all. Everyone else did too then. When they all stood, Tor got the speak-back started.

  Looking around and knowing the King couldn't see what was going on, Tor started describing everything. His voice sounded very formal, even to his own ears, but decided to just go with it. Lives hung in the balance here after all. Formal would work.

  “I have started a magical device that will allow everything said here to be repeated, exactly as said, la
ter, on demand. In the room we have William Smythe of Westend, Count Marvin Ward, Countess Maria Ward, The counts mother Ellen Ward, Patricia Morgan,” He looked at the servants and asked for their names which he repeated clearly, including their titles, but after the names, just so everyone would know who was who. “As well as myself, Torrence Baker. On the communications device is Richard Cordes…”

  Was there anyone else in the room with him? There was it seemed as voices spoke their names one by one so Tor repeated them, using their full names, with no titles, except for the accused and the witnesses.

  “Constance Cordes, Veronica Cordes, Karina Cordes.” Rolph was off delivering plates already? Good. The faster they could chat with people without a visit, the better. He missed Ursala and keeping in touch with Holly might prevent accidental mayhem. Always a good thing.

  Proper mayhem should be planned. Plus he should make a point of chatting with Mary Cannor if he got a chance. She was family after all. Really he should get one to Two Bends too.

  “Each person to be question has been given a magical device which causes a gold and cream colored glow around them. This glow turns black if an untruth is told. Not simply a lie, but things remembered incorrectly or misstated as well, if it's within conscious or unconscious knowledge. I shall call out any changes as they may occur.”

  Then he bowed to Smythe as if it were all planned and sat down, deciding not to speak unless asked, except to describe the scene in the room. The man was surprisingly polite and gentle, even when bluntly asking questions that would have made a dockside whore blush. Not really, Tor knew, but they were hard when you considered he was going after a Count.