by P. S. Power
Sigh. Well, Tor could only do what he could. That's why they had all those Ancients around anyway, to make sure things got done correctly, right? It worked for Tor at least, though the others all seemed more than a little scared. Except Weasel. He just grinned like a fool. Then he was an eleven year old boy. It probably seemed like a grand adventure to him.
Brilliant. Tor stuck his tongue out at the boy and shook his head.
“Right then. I'll go myself, but Denno…” Tor went silent and just looked at the man who was suddenly smiling as if he'd just been given a present. “Thousands of years old or not. Might of a whole land behind you or not, if this is a trick to harm us, know that I won't be… pleased.”
As threats went is wasn't much of one, but the man just nodded.
“It's just a meeting. The worst that will probably happen is a heated discussion or two. Unless Black and Orange get into it. Those two almost always get into a fight. It's conflicting mind sets and biology’s. They almost can't help it.”
Ah. Doesn't everyone get into fights with Black though? Tor didn't say it, just feeling too tired for some reason. Then everyone wanted to ask questions and chat about what all this meant for hours, but Tor had to beg off after a bit and just go to bed. It was rude, he knew, but his eyes just weren't going to stay open any longer, were they? Finally he mentioned it and smothered a yawn.
“Sorry everyone. I'm just…” He did it again and smiled. “Exhausted for some reason. Plus, you know, the whole world reeks right now. I'm off to go have nightmares about Baron Rochester now.” He waved his hand a little and stood slowly, his body stiff and aching to a point that he almost didn't make it all the way up.
Burks let his eyes go wide.
“I… didn't hear about this. What happened?” His words were dark and slightly angry suddenly.
Probably because it was bad to go around killing people.
No duh. Tor felt the same way, but just waved a hand again and didn't explain. Lyn spoke softly and in a foreign language, which got not just Burks, but Denno to go wide eyed. Whatever was said it let him get out of the room and up to bed, so Tor took it. He could be scolded later for his failings. He deserved it no doubt.
No one was in bed when he settled, but after a few hours two warm figures settled around him. It was Ali and Trice, he knew. He could feel the patterns he realized.
Then he dreamed.
None of them were good, but it was mainly Daria Serge mocking him, teasing him for about being so slow and stupid.
“Seriously Tor, you can't see it? Austrans here in your capital, people dying and the names going to my agents? Who do you know that knew me? Wouldn't it make sense to check there first? Moron.” She giggled when she said it, which was maddening.
Worse, she kept trying to get him to have sex with her, one blue eye and one brown staring at him, trying to be seductive. Petra's brown eye.
Ah. Right, he'd healed her in Debbie's shop. That was back before Box had come to work for her there.
And started dating Daria. Lilli.
No. That couldn't be right could it? The facts were there, but Box was a good guy. Always hard working and friendly. He was a friend.
One that lived very close to the Coltress family home.
Tor didn't like the thought and decided to go and clear the man as soon as he and Trice picked up Smythe in the morning. It was a heinous thought and he'd probably hate Tor from then on, just for asking. Still, he had dated Lilli, which meant someone should ask about that, right? Maybe Smythe already had? That would be better. Tor decided to just ask him and hope that was the case.
By morning he was pretty well convinced that he was wrong and that internal Daria Serge was just as bitchy and unhelpful and the real one had been. Trying to make him go around acting all mean and stuff. That made sense. The stupid, evil, dead girl was just screwing with him.
It was a fight to get out of bed, Tor had to wake up both girls to help him up, his body had nearly frozen in pain, locking up completely. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he'd left his Not-flyer off. Ali looked worried, almost scared, but Trice just shook her head, brown and light blond fuzz flying a little, still looking sleepy headed like a little kid. Sober though. Neither girl had gone to their cups the night before, even in celebration of the war ending. That was a good thing. Especially since Trice had to work.
She gave him a long suffering look and shook her head at him.
“You know, you could call in sick. If you can't move out of bed alone, no one expects you to go and save the kingdom. It's a rule.”
He shook his head, which ached at the base of his skull.
“What and have Smythe think I'm easy prey? No thanks. I'll just soak in a hot tub for a while and stretch for a bit. I'll be fine.” He grinned himself and winked at Ali.
“Just, you know, could you hand me that amulet there on the night stand?”
It was three whole feet away after all. Three long and pain filled feet. Trice climbed over him and got it for him, even putting in place. But only after turning her own arm on. She mainly slept with it off for some reason.
The whole morning took a lot longer than Tor had thought it would, first near two hours to warm up and get ready for the day himself, then, after flying his nice purple carriage into the palace complex, nearly two hours to find Smythe. He was sober of course, the man didn't drink at all, but he was in a side room, questioning Austrans already. Tor hobbled in, then decided to float, hoping it would look more impressive to the foreign agents. He half expected to find the older man torturing someone, but instead they were just eating a late breakfast and sitting at a table, in the guest house.
“Lord Baker! Baronetta Morgan. Sorry to have missed our meeting place, but these individuals came to me early this morning. Apparently they're our first batch of Austran agents? In this case the ones that worked here in the palace, so they came to me instead of going to your dwelling as ordered. It seems they didn't think they'd survive that for some reason?” He sounded amused by that at least.
Tor settled in next to the table and looked at who all was there, nodding. Yeah, he could see them being a little scared. For instance, though he didn't know the name, one of the men was a familiar servant from the kitchens, a baker to be exact. The man wasn't huge by noble standards, but was of a look to fit there, about six foot tall, with short cut brown hair and just enough extra weight that he didn't look like a warrior or soldier. Nearly perfect for the role he was playing.
Next to him sat a boy so young that Tor nearly didn't recognize him at all. Kenner Thorgood? The boy winced when Tor stared at him for a minute but didn't speak.
The last man was the one that would have caused problems though. Tor nearly killed him on the spot without even thinking about it.
Quavel.
The Queen’s butler. Trice didn't recognize him at first, but Tor did.
“Seriously?” Was all he said, his voice nearly silent.
The man had served for decades in the palace. He'd touched almost every plate of food that the Queen had eaten for years himself. He'd stood behind her at every function in the palace the whole time and…
He touched her.
Not just once or twice but thousands, millions, of times. Possibly more than the King himself. It was his job. That an agent of anyone had gotten that close was… Impossible. Or it should have been at least.
The man had gray hair, shot with isolated bits of black, and was old. Not elderly, but in his fifties at least, and not the young looking fifty of a noble, but the hard lived one of a servant. He wore his normal uniform, black and green in a light material that looked comfortable enough. Tor nodded slowly at all of them.
“I… see. Well.” He turned to Smythe. “Have they been cleared of the murders?”
“Indeed, first thing I did. I also checked to make certain no other Austran agents were within the walls here. If there are, these three don't know about it. Really, I was just debating smuggling them out of the kingdom to tell you
the truth. I suppose we could forgive the boy, he's older than he looks but still only fifteen. The others are a bit close however. I'm not certain how the King will react. We did promise their safety, but who knew…” The man shrugged and Trice fingered her pocket menacingly.
“No freaking doubt. Still, it's not our call, is it?” She glanced at the men hard, like they might die at any moment.
Tor tilted his head.
“Wait, Ken, you're fifteen? You look maybe ten. Some kind of treatment? Medical?”
“Nano injection sir. Permanently stunts the growth though, I was probably a year or two from being recalled anyway. It becomes kind of obvious without specific medical procedures to hold the bone structure in place. It pays well though and that's the important thing.” He grinned charmingly, his accent going to a thick Austran one instead of the fake thing he'd used every other time they'd spoken.
Tor shook his head, and figured he'd be doing that a lot for a while. Maybe forever.
Finally he turned to Trice and Smythe and sighed.
“Trice arrange transport for them? To my house first. Counselor Smythe… not to be heavy handed, but their safety is mine to see too. I promised Brown. That said, we need to see the King and Queen. Hopefully this won't require us to go back to war.” He spun on Quavel and nearly punched the man, who luckily was out of arms reach, so he just growled instead.
“You may have done your job too well.”
Stupid spies.
It took a while to get things set up but an hour later the royals, all of them, were sitting in throne like chairs in the King’s main meeting hall, with the spies standing in front of them. Kenner waved at Varley, who was holding a small child in her arms.
“You had the baby?” Tor jogged over to her, painfully, forgetting decorum for a minute. “Boy or girl?” He said sweetly, then made little cooing noises which got everyone else to chuckle after a moment.
“Girl. We named her Alison Anne. I was going to name her after you, but “Torrentia” was just too much of a mouthful. Hope you don't mind?” She grinned tiredly when she said it, no doubt at his antics and little noises made at the baby.
“Good plan. That's a horrible name.”
Stepping back Tor forced a bow, which hurt, towards each of the seated people. Then he gestured at the spies and sighed.
“We can't kill them. It's part of the deal. But I think Quavel here at least wants to say something.” It was a mean thing to do, but if the man couldn't get himself out of this, he deserved to be locked up, or beaten, whatever Connie could come up with.
The man just smiled and bowed smoothly, as if the whole thing were planned.
“I just wanted to say that, spy or not, it has been my honor to serve mum. You are a truly worthy person and a good soul.”
Connie at least didn't look too angry, instead she just looked, slightly sad.
“Ah. It saddens me to see you leave.” Her tone was even polite.
Tor blinked.
Well, that was more gentle than he'd expected, wasn't it? It was the others turn then and each of them surprised him a bit too. Karina got a wink from the baker, who said nothing and Kenner bowed slowly and walked over to Varley, making the Royal guard arrayed through the room go stiff.
He smiled at the baby.
“She's beautiful. Thank you for being so kind to me. It was all an act, on my part, but it wasn't lost on me how often you took time for a little orphan all alone in the world. No one back home would have bothered.” He bowed too.
“Keep that goodness, for as long as you can.”
Varley shook her head but didn't say anything, just looking sad.
Rolph looked around the room and grinned happily enough, apparently not concerned at all with the fact that so many people that lived with him were Austran agents.
“Let it be noted, none of them are women that I slept with.” He said softly, getting a nod from everyone else.
Tor shrugged at him.
“Not yet. We need to see all of them first though, don't we. I really hate all this stuff. Well, if no one wants to kick Quavel's butt, I need to make sure they get home safe now. They'll be at my house as… guests.” He turned to the King and Queen and bowed.
“I mean that too. Though I suggest they get their rooms and stay there until they leave, I won't lock them in. If they were going to make more problems they just wouldn't have come forward, right? No need to punish them now.” Unless there was, which was his point, but no one said anything.
The King released them with a word and a regal nod, and without asking if it was all right, Rolph and Karina both hopped up and followed them out of the room. Well, these men probably weren't a threat, were they? If they were, all the royal family would probably already be dead.
It wasn't until they all piled in to the Tor's Carriage that Rolph asked the question.
“So… which of you stole Tor's King’s day invitations?” The words were calm and even, but certain, as if he already knew.
Quavel chuckled darkly.
“I did. The little midget would have thrown off the seating arrangements at the table. It wouldn't have been so bad if Connie would have set him a ways down, but no, Tor had to be right at her side all the time. That's fine at normal functions, it just looks like a child sitting by her, but at the King’s celebration we sit grand procession style, so it would have looked horrible. I don't think he would have been seen over the table and putting blocks or a stand in place would make it too hard for everyone else to walk out to the ball after.”
Oh. Well, that made sense then. Tor just nodded gently, but Kenner snorted.
“Really? You got him snubbed just because it would throw of the look of a table seating pattern? That's pretty low. Couldn't you have, I don't know, just gotten him to float higher or something? Or maybe just sit someplace else? I'm sure if you mentioned it to him he'd have done it. Even begged the Queen for it.” The boy said an odd word, something Tor didn't know but suspected wasn't very nice. It seemed directed at Quavel.
Or whatever his real name was.
“When I had to walk the communications plate in after the L attack down south? He said that if I was to be beaten for it, he'd take it for me personally. No one ever mentioned it, any kind of punishment for it at all, but Sally, the house mistress in charge of me? She told me later that she'd gotten orders from the King for it. Anyone willing to take a spanking for a little kid can't be all bad.”
The older man sighed.
“Well, I'm sure he'll get in this next year. Really though Tor, make sure you aren't at the cross table, will you? It's just… wrong. Or at least build a higher float like you've been using.” The strange thing was that the man actually sounded worried about it.
“I'll take it under advisement.” That, for some reason got a laugh from the back seat, where Smythe and three Royal Guards sat. It was Wensa, Veren and Kara, the dark haired woman with a hawk like nose.
They all laughed though.
Was it funny? Maybe. They laughed harder when Quavel said, “very good sir.”
Luckily Trice was flying, since Tor kept twinging and aching enough that it would have distracted him. As it was he kept feeling like he'd forgotten something. Something big. It niggled at him the whole trip, all three minutes of it, and didn't go away when he walked into his house, to find seven Austran agents sitting in a meeting room waiting for them to get in. The staff had served refreshments.
Well, that was better than handing out beatings at least. Kind of set the tone for this not being a dangerous punishment or something like that.
Tor passed out Truth amulets and worked out that none of the people in the room was a deranged killer and got Trice to take notes as to any other contacts they knew of in kingdom. The numbers kept growing, more agents coming through the day, but no one knew anything, until a woman of about twenty-five came in.
“I work as the Cartwright’s helper. The one by the south wall?” She said when asked. Tor actually knew where that was, i
t being on the way to Debbie's bakery. Three buildings down, a kind of large place with a fenced area for the carts to pull in.
That reminded him of his dream. Box. Right. Sighing Tor shook his head, figuring that it would be totally wrong anyway, but needing to ask. After all, it was an investigation.
“Hey, um, did you ever get any information from the new baker at Debbie's?” He made his tone light, and carefree. It was a bit leading, but the truth amulet didn't waiver at all.
“Oh, sure. He told me about lots of things. Daria Serge introduced us. Kind of ad him working for her she said? Names of girls that no one would think twice about and that. Very friendly man. Little creepy though.”
“That's true.” Karina said softly. “I offered to, you know, service him, at the shop and he never wanted too, which I figured was just because his sister was right there, but he always watched me. It was strange. That's why I didn't go to visit, even when I got lonely. There's just something off about him.”
There was a time when Tor would have blushed at hearing a woman openly talk about servicing a man like that, but then, in this case it was him that had told her to do it. Oh, he'd been teasing, but still, it was a little strange the guy hadn't taken her up on it. If not at the shop, then later. Tor would have. Box had never struck him as the shy type overly at least. The first time they'd met he'd asked “Kari” to bed, hadn't he? Tor thought about it for a second, trying to remember.
Yes, he begged her pardon for being a bit vulgar, suggesting King’s week was a good time to get laid, then asked if she was interested… So refusing her later was a little odd.
Hmmm.
Tor decided to go and check on the man a little later, still not wanting to believe that it would turn out to be anything at all. He hoped not. But… The Cartwright’s helper had said that Box had openly given her names.
Of dead girls.
Before anyone even knew the murders were going on? Yeah, that was pretty telling. Even the woman being told had found it odd, but Daria had set it all up, before she left Noram. As an agent she had to just do her job, didn't she? Her part wasn’t asking questions of her boss and the information was good.
