by P. S. Power
So, in a way, that meant Box had been working with the foreign girl and knew it too.
Freaking heck.
He needed to go and pay a visit, didn't he? Tor felt like crying instead, but didn't, just getting word to Kolb that he might be needed. After all, some of his people actually kind of knew Box and Debbie. If someone had to take them in, it might as well be their friends.
The ride over was slow and had four vehicles in all, working through the streets, fighting through the crowd. Tor got it, there was no good landing places by the bakery and it was likely to be full of holiday traffic, being mid-afternoon. Tor went in first, to find a harried Debbie scrambling to run between the bakery, and then dash to the little store to the side, where she sold devices that Tor made. If he could recognize the metal plates from across the room, she was also carrying some other works now. Guide-fires and Sam-mills. Lyn had some things in too, by feel, though Tor couldn't see the devices, being round the corner.
“Tor! Help! Box didn't come in today, probably off sleeping off the celebration. I can't blame him, given the end of the war, but it's a pain.” She was wiping her hands on a rag, and trying to ring up a sale at the same time. She stopped and stared at all the people with them, Royal Guards and huge fighters, but the pause didn't last long. She was busy after all.
“Debbie, we need to talk. Um…” Looking around Tor tried to arrange who would work best where for now, and found he only really had two choices to work with, as funny as it would sound to everyone.
“Rolph, could you handle sales in the device shop? Kari, the bakery? It smells like there's product in the oven, so watch for that.” It came out as a command, but no one, not even Smythe, bristled at it. The royal kids were already working by the time Debbie finished up with the costumer she was serving hand pies to and turned around to give him a hug.
Tor stood back and slipped a Truth amulet over her head, starting the device with a flick, making her glow suddenly with a soft cream and golden yellow striped aura.
“Debbie, are you now, or have you ever been a spy?” He asked without pause.
“What? I'm a baker… I mean no, but…” She looked honestly confused at least.
Tor nodded since it was just the truth. That was reassuring.
“Did you have anything to do with the death of the girls in the Capital?”
“No… what’s this about?”
“Do you know if Box did?” The words were soft and not happy sounding at all.
She winced, her good looking face pinched a little. For a long time she didn't say anything, Smythe started to re-ask the question, but Tor put out a hand and touched his arm gently, getting him to stop. Finally, after nearly three minutes she spoke.
“I… Don't… honestly know. But… he's never been right, has he? When he was a child he'd kill animals if you didn't watch them closely. He just showed up here in the Capital last year during King’s week and said it would be fine for him to stay on, since I needed the help, but later I got a note from home and no-one knew where he was. He said he'd just forgotten to say where he'd gone, but Tammy Mills left at the same time from the Copperton. Everyone thought they must have run off together… He wouldn't say.”
Tor gave her a hug, more relieved than he'd thought he'd be on hearing that it wasn't her. That his friend was innocent at least. This one.
“Do you know where he is? Or might be?”
Debbie didn't hedge, giving the name of every place she could think of, every person she thought might know where he'd be. Trice took notes. Finally Smythe took over and patted Tor on the back.
“I have this now. Let's secure this location and set up here in case he comes back. Sir Kolbrin, if you'd see to that for us?”
The giant bald man just nodded darkly.
Debbie started crying. Which made sense didn't it? It was her brother and he might be involved in some fashion with some very dark things. He probably was. It made Tor’s heart ache to consider, so he didn't.
Instead he got Rolph and Karina packed in to a carriage with Wensa flying, Veren in the back seat. Debbie with them, because she needed some familiar faces and comfort. Tor hugged her again before they all left, lifting straight up from between the close packed buildings.
Kolb looked out the front door and a few seconds later three people ran over. Karen and Davie along with the huge Baron Haver. He shrugged.
“Tor, you know the situation best. Where do you want people?”
He stopped for a second. If they kept the shop open it would look most normal, until people got inside at least. But Haver and Karen were both nearly strangers. Davie would look normal enough, having worked for a week with the man once, and Tor could do the same back in the bakery. He nodded then.
“Haver and Karen outside. The roof of surround buildings, if you can find a good location? Not to put too fine a point on it, but if I saw you two standing around out there, I wouldn't come in and I know you. Little intimidating.” He smiled at them, knowing it was a little sad, but not able to do better.
“David, you run the bakery section. I'll tell you what to do and try to help as I can. Kara, would you run the shop next door please?”
The Royal Guard had stayed for some reason, but just gave a single nod and walked into the next room, clothing shifting into nearly an exact replica of the light blue velvet dress that Debbie had been wearing. It was good work, especially on the fly like that. Impressive really. Tor wasn't sure he could have done the same thing. The guard was taller than Debbie and past the dark hair didn't look like her at all. But she did look like a wealthy merchant suddenly, instead of a kick-ass combat instructor.
Tor blinked as he realized that she actually had been. A combat instructor at Lairdgren. The one that had beaten the back of his right arm into near uselessness once. Tor rubbed at his arm in memory. That had been a few years before though and in the moment, everything hurt and that wasn't her fault at all.
They worked for hours, dark falling and the evening wearing on. The bakery did brisk business and after a while the device shop started to as well, when Tor popped his head in he started to understand why. Kara wasn't haggling well at all. Letting things go for about half of what they normally would. Word was getting around. That would work, as long as they looked busy, wouldn't it?
It wasn't until later, near ten in the evening, that a familiar dark head popped into the bakery side through the outside door.
Box.
The man smiled and gave a wave when he saw Davie, “hey! How’s it going Dave?”
The large Countier turned with a tray full of hand pies to go in the racks for display.
“Hi Box. Not too bad. Little bit of bad news, but other than that, everything's all right. Debbie had to go off to the palace with Kari and her brother for a bit. We've got some people in to cover though, so no business is being lost. You remember Tor?” To his credit the very tall, hard looking boy kept working the whole time, as if it really was no big deal. Even Tor bought it and he knew better.
“Hello Box.” He grinned and gave a pained half wave. It was bad enough he'd had to just run the cash box all night. David couldn't do a lot of baking though, not on his own yet, but he followed directions perfectly, nobleman or not. definitely his favorite Countier.
He explained this to Box carefully, getting a solid nod in return.
“Sorry I was out all day, bit of a bender last night, celebrating the end of the war and all that. Just woke up an hour ago, passed out in some Inn. What's the emergency? Is everything all right? Need a baker at the palace or something?” He sounded confident as if it just made sense that, if there was a baking emergency, of course his sister would be called in to cover it.
“Actually, yes. One of the baking staff turned out to be an Austran agent of all things. Horrible really, right there by the food all that time. Thank goodness he was actually working for a friend of mine, not someone evil. Really messed up situation. All the agents are leaving now though, part of the peace treaty.”
Tor stretched and pretended he was just a little sore, instead of the truth, that he was incredibly so.
Kara walked out of the other shop area smiling, which got Box to do the same.
“Hey, I don't think we've met?” The man's voice was a little smooth and oily, but polite enough really. His field didn't react to her though. Not at all. Not like a man, true, but not like a person either.
Tor noticed the difference right off. It was like the man didn't really see her at all practically. It was bizarre. He noticed Tor and Davie all right. And he spoke to her… but it was just an act.
Tor moved forward as if he was going to give Kara a hug or make an introduction, as she started to speak.
“Oh, no, I work at the palace, just in to help out here for the day.” She smiled, a little seductively. “I get off about now, would you like to go get a drink? My treat?” She sounded happy enough. Festive.
A wave of disgust flowed off the man in front of him, mingled with lust. It was shockingly strong too. Tor hit him in the back of the head, shield kicking in making the otherwise feeble blow more worthwhile. The man didn't go down though.
Kara, bless her, got the second blow faster than Tor would have thought possible after his own, and that did the trick. Box dropped to the floor with a thump.
“Everyone not working here get out.” Tor said firmly then. “This is the King’s business. Move. David, Kara, secure him. I'll get the others. We need to question him.”
Tor went to the door, a quiet rage inside him as he signaled out front and called softly, letting people by as he did.
“We got him.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Box, whose real name was Darren Smalls of Copperton, something Tor had never known at all, didn't want to admit to being a killer. No one blamed him. Not at all. The problem however, was one that Smythe, Trice and even Rolph, who'd come to talk to the man and try to get cooperation, didn't get at all.
It was fear.
Well, they could all see that, but it wasn't fear for his own life, not in this. Box knew he was dead. If he didn't talk, the nobles would kill him, but only him. If he admitted to anything, his family could be blamed for any aid they'd given him. Including food and shelter. Or in Debbie's case, work. So instead he just shut up and stopped talking almost immediately.
He may be an evil being, worse than a mere killer, a monster that did things to the girls he'd killed that… Tor didn't really want to know about it. He sat wearing a Truth amulet, with three people intimidating people haranguing him, which wasn't going to work, Tor knew. After about an hour of this Tor had all he needed. It was so clear in the man’s field that he might as well have spoken.
Still, that didn't do a lot for the families of the dead, did it?
No, they needed him to talk.
Tor left the room and held up his right hand, not knowing if it would work for him, but this was the palace after all. He took a deep breath.
“Odd request. Would someone please request the King come here? He's needed. Personally, I think only he can resolve this situation.” Then Tor stood and waited. Nothing happened for ten minutes, then, just as he was about to go and search the complex for the man himself, he rounded the corner, with nearly twenty Royal Guard, weapons out and looking ready to fight.
“Tor?” Rich sounded cautious, but ready to do his part. Physically it looked like, since he had an explosive weapon out and ready to activate, thumb hovering over the sigil. It was one of the smaller ones he'd made, but not shielded for indoor work.
“I need for you to do something, if we want this resolved for real.” He explained the situation, getting a strained look from the King. Then he sighed and stepped forward.
“Very well. It's honorable enough, I suppose.”
Tor led them into the room, a situation that made half the Royal Guard look like they were going to kick his ass personally later, taking turns, which was ridiculous. As beat up as he was at the moment he'd never last that long. Rolph froze and his face suddenly went… sly. He at least got that something was going on. He bowed to the King, a low thing that was totally outside of protocol. Quick studies that they were, Trice and Smythe followed along so smoothly the whole thing looked planned. Tor did it too, even though he'd come in with the man.
“Darren Smalls?” The King walked in front of the chair that Box was chained too.
“I'm Richard Cordes. Master Builder Tor has been reading you during the investigation and has found you to be guilty of the murders of several young girls. He also tells me that you have worries that your family will be harmed if you speak and admit your crimes. Is this so?” He spoke evenly, regally.
Box folded within moments. It was hard not too when the King of the entire land looked you in the eye. It was kind of the point.
“Yes… Sire.” The voice wasn't humble, not friendly either, which was closer to the man’s norm. It was just blank. Defeated.
“We are prepared to offer our protection to those of your family innocent of wrong doing. That is to say, if they did not aid you directly and knowingly in the commission of these crimes or commit murder themselves, they will not be harmed in any way. This is contingent on your full cooperation and a public statement, under truth oath. Wearing that amulet, so that people will know what you've said is fully honest. Otherwise, I cannot help you. Choose wisely.” Then the man simply stepped back and didn't say any more, just waiting for Box to speak.
“All… OK. What do you want to know?” He said softly, looking at the King first, but finally at Tor.
“Just the truth Box, whatever that is.” Tor made his voice gentle, even though he felt… sick. Betrayed.
Then he felt worse as the words came out. It wasn't just seven girls, there had been more that had gone unnoticed, some of them children from the city, all girls. Most commoners, street walkers and urchins too poor for the city guard to take note of, being there to mainly protect the rich after all. Box laughed darkly at that when he explained how it all worked.
It was true enough of course, Tor knew, but the nobles didn't seem to see it at all. It didn't matter at the moment, but later they'd have to discuss the reality of not being over tall and wealthy in the kingdom of Noram. It was an error for the King not to know that. Worse, from the look on his face, Rolph didn't really seem to get the idea either.
Box had to give his tale a dozen times, once for each of the families of the murdered girls, if they could find them, and once before the council of Counts. The worst one was when he had to speak in front of Debbie. Tor had thought it horrible when the Coltress family and the Wards had been there, fearing that they'd just slaughter the man on the spot. They didn't though.
They weren't, as a group, evil people, but they raged in this. Tor didn’t blame them. Carol was the worst though. Where the others, the Baron, and oddly enough Petra, who had come to show support for the family, seemed ready to kill the monster in front of them, and even screamed at him for being so evil, Carol just sat.
Coldly.
Waves of anger coming off of her. She felt nearly as despicable as Box did, to Tor at least. It was clear she wanted revenge. Understandable even. Who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t Box that she wanted to punish.
It was the Baron.
Again.
She took off after the King so harshly that six Royal Guard in the room actually pulled their weapons and pointed them at her. She laughed at them.
“Oh, isn’t that the way then?” She hissed the words, a low sound suddenly, after the yelling she’d done just moments before, leaving a void in the room. It got everyone’s attention. Even Box’s and he’d been largely just looking at the wall, if not in shame for his acts, then to avoid inflaming anyone’s passions.
The Baroness spun on Richard and took two steps closer as if to strike him. The giant didn’t move. He also didn’t sneer or make any kind of facial expression at all. Like the nobles all did when they suspected someone was about to go into combat rage.
“You.” She p
oked a finger at his chest, which stopped dead in the air. She didn’t care, just doing it again as George moved in behind her, obviously ready to fight her in the King’s place if it came to that. “This is all your fault. You let that man rape my little girl. Now you protect this one from honest justice! His family can’t be touched? Make all the decrees you want, you bastard, you can’t stop me. I have friends over this entire land and we’ll…” She went silent, panting and turned her rage away from the monarch.
Onto Debbie.
Only Carol didn’t bother yelling at the already cowed and silent women. Instead she… smiled.
“Fine then.” Her face looked suddenly triumphant as she glared at the woman in front of her, as she watched the tears flowing down the light tan cheeks.
“Fine then. We can’t touch this beasts family for his crimes as is proper? Perhaps, but you didn’t give them protection from right of closure, did you?”
Tor had no clue what that meant, but apparently everyone else did. Even Box and Debbie. Both of them gasped and so, oddly, did the Baron. Petra looked down and the King’s jaw clenched hard. Rolph took a deep breath and stared at Tor, probably understanding that he didn’t get it.
“She means to force Debbie to kill him.” His giant friend said, dressed all in black. They all were. Even Debbie. Not Box. He was in a light tan prisoners shift with no trousers, naked legs showed below the knees, pale and covered with dark strands of hair.
Oh.
Tor had heard of that. It was an old costume, meant to force a person’s family to pay for things like this, if they couldn’t properly be gone to war with. It was a noble thing though. Debbie wasn’t one. Before he could point that out, the King tried, getting Carol to simply laugh at him.
“What then? She isn’t a noble? Why, you’ve promoted her to that state yourself, didn’t you? When you made her untouchable for her family’s crimes. Or are you simply denying me justice? Is that your plan? Rob Ginger of any proper retribution?” The smile didn’t waiver, it wasn’t a real smile though, so Tor didn’t expect it too. Carol had just thought that she’d won.
