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Knight Esquire ya-2

Page 7

by P. S. Power


  That the Baroness was dressed in nice flying clothes of leather and silk was natural enough and she looked pretty in it too. He’d even seen her in them before so he recognized her instantly. His mother he’d never seen in anything other than a skirt or dress, and all those in country blah, a kind of blue-tan-gray, that plus the fact that she looked way younger than he remembered her ever being threw him for a few seconds. He put it all together, the whole not aging thing of course, she was pretty much immortal after all, but blinked a few times first. She looked like she could be going to school here, not nearly old enough by half to be his mother. Actually some of the other students looked older than she did.

  “Hell…” He started trying for a greeting, but got a sudden harangue that stopped him cold. Tor decided to just listen and glanced at the clothing she wore, brown leather pants, new looking tan boots and a green silk top, a deep green that looked almost black. Mercy had on deep blue. House colors? The King had purple and gold, which Tor liked, because purple was his favorite color, but deep green wasn’t too bad. It worked with his mom’s black hair and pale skin, so it would probably work with his too. At least the house colors weren’t pink and yellow. The idea nearly made him laugh. Lairdgren. In proper country speech that just meant “Lord Green” which made sense. Heck, Tor’s middle name was Green. It all kind of clicked into place suddenly.

  “Your father and I did not send you off to school to get into fights like some kind of common ruffian! I’m of half a mind to send you home right now young man. Of all the irresponsible, lame headed, hare brained things to be doing! Well, I hope you haven’t been neglecting your baking skills, because after this little display you’ll be lucky if anyone will let you do even that. Hmph!” Her voice was just as shrill and harsh as he remembered it at least, so that hadn’t changed.

  Looking around he saw that Dorgal Sorvee had walked over, probably enjoying the fact that Tor was being chewed out in public like this. Well, it was embarrassing, but she was right. He should have watched what he said and let David deal with it. But still…

  “Ah, ma’am?” Dorgal said in a genteel voice, bowing slightly. “Now, normally I’d be all for watching the little baker boy here be taken to task for, well, pretty much anything, since he bugs the crud out of me most days, but he wasn’t in the wrong here. Count Rodriguez challenged a first year student to a duel to the death because he was mad at the kid’s father. Tor got him to challenge him instead. Then handled it without killing him, which was rather smoothly done. That weapon Davie Derring has is… Well, that plowed looking field next to us? It was grass earlier.” The greasy seeming boy shrugged.

  “He would have killed the Count and that wouldn’t end well for anyone, probably starting a war, and wars are messy, don’t you think? Bad for business all around. Now, if it pleases you, knowing all that, do continue ripping this guy a new one. I’ll get some snacks and take notes for later use.” Dorgal bowed and stepped back with a smarmy smile, far enough away that the glare from Tor’s mom barely scathed him.

  “Friend of yours dear?” Mercy put in, obviously trying to change the subject.

  “Ah, no, kind of the school bully actually. Little shocked that he didn’t find some way to use this to his advantage yet. Not that he’s the violent type. He just says things, you know… Related to Meredith Sorvee I think. Good thing Trice asked me to marry her first.” Standing about fifteen feet away Dorgal blanched. “Though really, I’m sure Meredith is a great person… I just couldn’t risk it, in case she’s a relative of his.

  “So, if you’re not here to see this debacle, why have you both come? It’s not… Trice hasn’t decided to break off the engagement already, has she? She didn’t mention anything to me about that…” He knew he hadn’t been a very good fiance yet. Since they’d been back he’d spent almost all of his time working on one thing or another, not paying attention to her like he should. Sure the whole thing wasn’t really real, but on the off chance that he could win her over, shouldn’t he try? Or at least… Well, he should make himself look as good as possible to her, so that she might recommend him to other women as a decent person, after she was done with him. He’d make a point of working on that, if the whole thing wasn’t up already. Had she met some other boy? Well, he’d certainly given her time to, so who could blame her?

  Mercy shook her head. “Nothing like that. In fact she was just telling me how happy she is with you and how she hoped you didn’t die out there. It looks like you took more of a beating than it seemed though, did your shield fail or…”

  Tor touched his face. “No. These… a Royal Guard kicked me down some stairs last night. I took her prisoner and locked her and her troop up in a holding cell after. I guess I get to go deal with that now. Do you think that the King would have secretly ordered my death… or I don’t know, would Connie have done it? I thought we were all friends, but… No one’s talking about why Wensa keeps trying to kill me. She’s claiming that she didn’t do it last night, but it sure seemed like her.” Tor rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’ll handle all that later. Now, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  The reason they were there surprised Tor a little, but not in a bad way. Terlee had decided to come and visit Count Thomson. They were flying over and saw the gathering of people so they decided to land and see what the situation was. Probably hoping for jugglers or a party.

  “Imagine our surprise…” Laurie began dryly, still glaring at Tor a little.

  Terlee was over by the Count, who stood in a small group of people around David Derring, it was a good enough excuse to drag everyone over, since it was his sister after all. Besides Trice stood next to her as well. His sister looked… good. Royal, if tiny. Her hair was pulled back simply but her face had been made up like the ladies at court did, but with less color, so it looked more natural. She wore an outfit similar to his mothers, but that pulled in at the waist a little more and pushed her bust line forward. Courting clothes. David smiled when he walked up and started making introductions.

  “Tor! Tor, this is my father, Count Derring, of course, and my mother.” The man and woman looked at him as if he’d done something special. The man bowed slightly towards Tor.

  “I was just saying how lucky it was that David didn’t fight Count Rodriguez.” The man said, his voice a little prickly for some reason. Tor shrugged and agreed.

  “Yes. David’s at least five times better than I am at fighting and really didn’t have as much reason as I did to let the man off easy.” Tor spoke softly, trying to pitch his voice so that the Count alone would hear him.

  The Count looked surprised.

  “Oh, yes, well… I did rather mean that weapon that you gave him. That was impressive. The fool should have surrendered on his knees right there. Still, we are, of course, just as glad that it all ended without any death. Right Davie?” The voice was dry and a little smarmy sounding to Tor’s ear, which couldn’t be right. Wouldn’t any father be simply happy that their child was unharmed in a case like this?

  “Of course.” The kid sounded so subdued suddenly that Tor wondered if his father had ordered him to kill the man outright or something. If so, he’d make sure that David knew to blame him for it. Tor hadn’t known of any plan, after all, and who could expect some country bumpkin like him to get a complicated plan like that anyway? So far, as nice as both Davie and Karen were, their father wasn’t making a very good impression. He felt creepy. On a field level, not just his looks or something basic like that. Torrence looked up at the man his neck twinging a little from the extreme angle. Huge and creepy. Almost evil.

  The Countess Derring, a sweet looking, if large, mousy blond in her mid-forties, meaning she looked younger than that, moved in and gave him a hug. Tor was baffled for a few seconds.

  “Thank you for my son.” She whispered directly in his left ear so softly Tor almost couldn’t hear her. It didn’t sound like thanks for saving his life, which he hadn’t done at all. The boy really would have won pretty easily. If Tor managed it,
he would have. Probably by leaving bits of Rodriguez all over the back of the field. So, was it thanks for making sure her son didn’t have to kill the Count?

  David smiled and continued the introductions.

  “You know Karen and Count Thomson of course…” He gestured with his right hand, a move far too elegant for the heavy canvas clothing he wore. He didn’t sweat, which meant that he had on a temperature equalizer too most likely. “Next to him on the left is my cousin, Ducherina Patricia Morgan. She goes to school here, I don’t know if you’ve met? On the other side of the Count,” he continued without pausing so Tor couldn’t explain anything. No one else tried yet, so Tor let him continue. “Is the lovely Counserina Lairdgren, Tamerlane.”

  Tor blinked at that, but didn’t say anything. It made sense, if his mom wasn’t hiding any more, and Terlee wanted to try and catch Tovey, she had to do it as a Counserina. It was real enough, but still felt a little like lying to Tor. Still, he wouldn’t ruin it for her. She was obviously trying really hard and wasn’t even hiding behind her hair while being talked about. That had to be hard for her. Tor gave her a small bow that wasn’t even ironic.

  Then David smiled at the other women.

  “I recognize my aunt, of course, the Baroness Morgan, but the other lovely lady…” Davie sounded smooth, like he’d said things like that all his life. Tor wondered if he really had. Did they learn to say things like that with a straight face while they learned to walk? Of course, since the lovely woman was his mother, Tor might be a little jaded. She did look nice, nearly as good as Terlee, he had to admit. Maybe better, it was just so hard to separate her from his mother, as ridiculous as the idea sounded. The creepy Count apparently thought she was lovely too, because he fairly stared at her. It surprised Tor enough that he jumped when Count Derring stepped towards her suddenly.

  “Laurie? Oh my! Of course that only makes sense… David, Maggie, this is Counserina first, Lorali Lairdgren. I haven’t seen you in years, not since school…” He didn’t say any more, and no one told him anything. It was kind of pointed.

  So, Tor inferred, the man wasn’t an old friend exactly. Funny, Tor could see that somehow.

  Still, maybe this just wasn’t a good day for him? After all, someone had tried to kill his son already, if nothing else, and that had to tick the guy off. Tor felt a little rough and surly himself and was hoping no one blamed him for it, so maybe he should extend the same courtesy to Count Derring?

  “Hello Daniel. Yes, I’ve been living the country life and only recently decided to venture forth and visit with some people again. Since my son Torrence is attending school here, and… some other reasons,” She cast a sidelong look at Terlee and Tovey with a smile. “We thought we’d make this the first leg of our little tour. Next we’re going to visit with my father, then head down to the Capital and look up Richard and Connie. We’ll probably be leaving later today or early tomorrow at the latest.”

  It took things a second to click in place for Tor. Slow from lack of sleep probably.

  “Hey, not to be a pain, but do you think you could wait an extra day or two? I want to send some things down for Connie and her family. Also, I guess I should send a few things for Count Lairdgren since were related and all? I’ll let you tell me what kind of things he might be interested in though.” It wasn’t like they’d ever met or anything, so how would he know?

  They worked out that they could stay one extra day and not be too far off schedule. Tor suppressed a groan and kissed his mother on the cheek, then gave Terlee a quick hug. Trice got that he was about to disappear, probably for the next day at least and pulled him into a hug. “Remember to eat. I’ll be by with some food in a few hours.”

  He took off pretty quickly; it was early still, so if he could manage a batch per hour… Blowing out air in a big puff Tor flew faster. It was going to take longer than he had as it was. Eh. Well, that was everything lately. He rushed back and got to work without delay, tired or not.

  Oddly enough, no one expected him to go to school on any day he’d fought in a duel, no matter how lame the actual events were. At least he though that’s what Rolph said to him as he got through the eighth set of ten poison detectors. He’d rebuild the weapons to make them more suitable for school use later. They didn’t really need anything that would instantly destroy, well, a battlefield or almost anything else that got in the way.

  For Count Lairdgren he put in two copies of everything he had, including water pumps, since he didn’t have to make them. The design wasn’t perfect yet, but it let you pick where the water needed to start from with the first plate and where it emptied with the second. They worked up to about two hundred feet apart. The effect was a lot like a miniature version of the Falcon’s river, which was neat enough, he guessed. A pipe of water that floated in the air. What wasn’t to like?

  Tor kind of wished he had some water heaters ready to go, but he just hadn’t had time to work on that yet at all. He made his way outside to the central court yard just before everyone was planning to leave, trying to hide the fact that he stumbled a little every ten steps or so. He felt bleary and drowsy, but managed to smile at everyone anyway. He’d gotten Rolph to help him carry the chests out. They were heavy enough that Tor didn’t want to try it alone, not walking down the stairs. Each had float plate on the side but that didn’t help him carry them… which spurred yet another idea.

  He’d been putting them all on the bottom until Sara had pointed out the fact that doing it that way made it harder to get at them and it didn’t make any difference at all as far as actual flight performance. The field surrounded the box anyway, making it lift itself. Duh. He’d felt stupid when she mentioned it, but made the change instantly. A good idea was a good idea after all. Resisting it would just make him look even more stupid.

  Tiredly Tor pointed at the boxes.

  “Lairdgren has the green top. Cordes the purple. Odds and ends in the green one, I made a list and it explains how to use it all, it’s in the chest. The other one has a hundred poison detectors and the templates for the new weapons. I figure I’ll let the King decide what to do with them, if anything.”

  Then there were hugs all around, which included Rolph. Tor had kind of gotten that his mother, once out of Two Bends, had become all royal again, so when she gave his friend a warm hug, it seemed, well, not normal, but just friendly, not like his mother was going to start doing something wrong with the guy. What amazed Tor was that Terlee hugged the Prince as well. He hugged her back happily enough that Sara raised her eyebrows and grinned at both of them knowingly. It took Tor a second to realize that if Terlee was a good enough option for Tovey, she was also likely in the potential marriage pool for Rolph. Things were still rough with Ursala after all, after getting pregnant by Count Ward like she had. Then marrying a man that didn’t exist to keep things from being less than honorable. Tor blinked the thought away and tried not to let the shock show on his face.

  Tor waved as they left, rising into the sky with all the luggage. Then he hugged Trice for a while, using her mainly to hold him up as she laughed about it. But he still didn’t get to sleep. He had to go to class. As it was no one should be cutting him much slack. After all, he’d just been making copies of stuff, not doing novel work. It made a difference. In his mind it did anyway.

  It wasn’t until after lunch that they came for him, as he walked to the practice yard to meet with Karen. Kolb led them to him, which Tor accepted as being his duty as a Knight, not him being a traitor.

  Freaking Knights and their duty.

  The Dean. Proctor Campbell, and two Royal Guards in full livery that wore flight gear on their left hands. Tor slapped the shield amulet on his chest, earning a small smile from Kolb and a worried look from everyone else. The two Royal Guardsmen in particular. Their severe black and purple uniforms looked too warm for the weather, which was just starting to cool enough to be pleasant outside in the weapon court.

  Kolb stopped about ten feet away. “There you are Tor! We�
��d heard that you hadn’t slept in a while, but these men came all the way up from the Capital to be of assistance in our little guard problem here. It seems that everyone is getting uneasy, since half the Prince’s retinue of retultors is vacationing in the holding cells. Plus, you understand… any day now we may need the space for some drunken, malcontented, student. So we need to get that cleared up, don’t you think?” The tone was jovial as if the whole thing was just a lark or something. Then again, they probably would need the cells for drunks soon. Royals did like to drink.

  He’d forgotten about the whole situation while he worked, of course. That was kind of a given. If he’d been focused on that, no work would have happened at all. Tor wondered what they expected him to do about it though? They’d make their decisions and he’d deal with the aftermath, no matter what that was. That was just the way things worked, right?

  Apparently, for the first time in his life, that was wrong.

  They expected him to come up with what was to be done. All on his own. Like that was a wise plan or something. He’d opened his mouth to ask whose brilliant idea it was when one of the guard mentioned that it came directly from the King himself. Tor nearly laughed, but didn’t feel like explaining to these people that could kill him without thinking about it and get no more than a hard look from their superiors for their trouble.

  Tor yawned. He couldn’t help it.

  “Sorry, I’ve been up for two and a half, nearly three days now. So, I guess we should go and see if we need to kill all those Royal Guards or just Wensa then. Let’s go.” His words probably didn’t thrill the men with him, at least they all looked a little less than pleased with him at the moment, but what did they expect him to do? Give them all hugs and tell them to play nice from now on. He nearly laughed again. If it wouldn’t end in his death, he’d be willing to try it, just for the comedic value if nothing else.

  Half an hour later he ended up facing Wensa and the other four Royal Guards through the bars of the cells. One he recognized when his right arm twinged as the Weapons Instructor that had kept hitting him there in a practice session about half a year before. Even back then they’d been gunning for him? Oh, probably not. No need to be paranoid. They didn’t have a reason to back then. Then again, they didn’t know either.

 

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