by P. S. Power
“Alright, you four there, why did you attack me the other night after Wensa tried to kill me?” He leveled the accusation squarely and glared a little, sullenly. They’d had time to get their stories straight, so he doubted that anything they said could be trusted, still, he needed to give them half a chance to prove that they weren’t part of some bigger plot.
One of the men, a man that taught music, of all things, just shrugged and grinned.
“Really, we didn’t know what was going on and just saw you taking out Captain Wensa, so we scrambled. It seems like it was just a misunderstanding as far as I can tell. Conflicting mind sets is all. With a bit of help from someone outside this room, trying to frame Wensa. Well, either that, or you dashed yourself down the stairs to frame her, but… We all agree that probably isn’t too likely. It’s hard to damage yourself like that after all. Reflexes kick in, force you to protect yourself. Still, we’ve all heard about how you climbed into that middens and had them yank you out by your ankle. If anyone here other than one of us could pull a trip down some stone steps off with intent, it would be you.”
Tor answered by lifting his shirt and turning around. He still had the shield on, but Rolph had told him that the painful bruise had made a wonderful boot print outlined in blood blisters; purple on blue-black he’d been assured. None of the people in the cell hissed in shared pain like almost everyone else had, but Kolb stepped over, had him drop the shield and scrubbed at the wound vigorously. It hurt, but Tor got it, he was proving it wasn’t make-up, after a second everyone else got it too.
“OK, so that’s real and you didn’t do it yourself, which lends a bit of credibility to your story…” From the second cell there came a rustling and Wensa held her shoe through the bars. It was flat soled, where the boot print had a heel, at least from what Tor had heard. The Dean put the shoe up to his back and grunted.
“This is considerably smaller than the bruise. We can expect some spread of course, but it would seem that it’s still made by a larger foot.”
Shaking his head Tor let his shirt drop.
“Not really, all that proves it that a bigger boot was worn. If it was smaller, then it would be significant, larger could mean anything from a bigger foot in the boot to just good planning on her part before the attack. Granted, I doubt she did it just to get the lady into bed, but really, who knows what her motives might be? Gold most likely. Let’s beat a confession out of her.” He deadpanned the last bit tiredly.
Oddly enough even though three people in the room other than him had heard that before, Wensa was the only one that laughed. Everyone else looked at her meaningfully as she snorted in an undignified fashion.
“What? It’s funny. All we really have so far though is that someone dressed in a gray skirt, around my height attacked you Baker. Lots of people could fake that. They wouldn’t even have to be as tall as I am, stoop a little and you can shrink by three or four inches without even calling too much attention to yourself. Wear lifts and high heels, which that boot print could be showing, and they look up to three inches taller. That’s a seven inch spread. Really, is that enough to even hold me on?”
The woman didn’t seem smarmy at least, her face, thick with lines and hair a bit greasy made her seem tired, but not like she was being smug. Then again Royal Guard could mean professional liar as well as a lot of other things, thief, assassin, whatever was required. Tor mentioned this casually. The Royal Guards on both sides of the bars looked angry about it, but no one tried to deny it.
“Besides, you’ve already tried to kill me, and threatened to as well, so why should I believe you’re innocence now? And don’t tell me that if you tried to really kill me I’d be dead. Even a Royal Guard can run afoul of poor luck now and then.” He looked into her eyes, which turned out to be a light bluish gray. Not a pretty color at all, but it worked for her face, giving her a half insane look that matched her actions.
Wensa smiled.
“Easy enough. I didn’t try to kill you at all. Ever. Let me list this off for you.” She held up her right hand and started counting from the thumb, a big thing that would have made Tor feel a little inadequate if it weren’t for the fact that he was more than a little pissed at the woman already.
“At the shield test; if you remember I’d been observing you for nearly a week before hand? I don’t think you managed a single test of the device that I didn’t witness. I knew what you were preparing for. So on the day of the test I simply helped out, because Kolb wasn’t aware of all the work you’d put in. I already knew it would work… Well, at least I had good reason to believe so. You could have still died or been injured if the work hadn’t been quality, but if you weren’t ready to test the device you shouldn’t have been out there at all.” She gave him a single slow blink as she finished saying that.
The other guards and Kolb nodded, but the Dean and Rolph looked slightly horrified. It was Kolb, his voice low and rumbling that spoke first.
“I figured it was something like that. I did note that there was no move at the time to capitalize on the obvious weaknesses, which honestly she wouldn’t have skipped if the intent had been death.”
The gray woman tilted her head towards the large weapons instructor. “Just so, after he succeeded there so well, it was clear to me that he could prove to be an asset to the kingdom, so I made an effort to make helpful suggestions as to other devices he could make, and observed him to see if I could suggest any possible improvements to his work.
“I have to say, I was more than a little surprised when you spoke of who I was to those students and their friend. It took nearly half an hour for me to convince them that I really was just a jealous lover and that if they got in my way I’d have them expelled. No doubt why they keep glaring at me every time we meet. Also a bit surprised that I could pass off a force lance and an immolator as calculating tools for geometry. What the heck are the students here learning?” This she addressed to the Dean who simply shrugged.
It made sense, in a way, but just because she had her story right, that didn’t mean that she wasn’t out to get him for real and just smart enough to hide it. Still, what could he do? It was just possible that she was telling the truth, right? If she was, then having her killed or even locked up long term wasn’t fair at all. Kicking her out of her position, if he was allowed to do that, wouldn’t work. A fanatic like her, and all the Royal Guards were fanatically loyal to the King as a rule, an actual job requirement, wouldn’t be stopped just because she’d been asked to go away politely.
Finally, after standing for far too long thinking about the whole thing, Tor made up his mind.
“Fine, everyone can go, except for Wensa, she needs to meet me outside. Now.”
The looks he got were serious and dark, but the woman followed him without comment. The other guards stood back, but didn’t leave. The art and music instructor started twice to ask what he planned, but Tor just held up a hand for silence once they were out in the court yard. The cobble stones were hard and slightly uneven under his feet. Taking several deep breaths, feeling more than a little panicked, Tor removed all his amulets and weapons and handed them to Kolb, who looked more than a little shocked at the action.
Tor took a deep breath and then forced himself to relax.
“Kolb, please hand Wensa that tube there…” He pointed to the copper tube with four distinct notches near the bottom to act as a makeshift activation sigil. Tor held up his hand before Wensa took the weapon. “Don’t trigger that unless you want me dead. It’s an explosive weapon.”
The Dean put a hand out towards Kolb, “Are you sure…”
With a massive shrug the Knight handed the tube over and told the Dean that the King himself had put Tor in charge of the disposition of this matter.
“If Tor says to give over what’s possibly the deadliest weapon I’ve ever heard of outside of legend to Wensa, then I will. Be careful though Wen, you could destroy the campus with this thing in about half a minute without even feeling it…”<
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The woman took it, a curious look on her face. Taking another shaky breath Tor closed his eyes and spoke softly.
“Right. So I can’t live looking over my shoulder waiting for you to kill me all the time. If you want to kill me, orders or not, do it now and we’ll call it good, all right? No one will do anything too you over it, or bother you at all because of it and you can just go about your life happily guarding or whatever it is you do. If you are going to kill me, baring orders from the King later, then I just ask that you do it now or not at all. Does that sound fair?”
He stood silently for a second, wondering if he’d just die as a matter of course. The woman wasn’t any kind of friend to him at the very least. If she was really trying to get him, he’d probably never get to open his eyes again. Instead, after about fifteen seconds, he heard laughter. Wensa first, then all the Royal Guards after a few seconds.
One of the guards, the dark haired female Weapons Instructor that had kept hitting him on the right arm before, walked over and patted him on the back.
“Oh well played! Perfectly done.”
Tor opened his eyes as the voice spoke. Wensa handed the weapon back to Kolb with a grin. “So, is the weapon really all that powerful?”
Rolph looked at it and turned more than a little white, his right hand pointed at it. “So powerful that the template was sent off earlier today, to my parents directly, not set up for manufacture anywhere that they might accidentally get into the wrong hands. I… didn’t know that Tor had one himself… Did you have it during the duel with Count Rodriguez?”
All the Royal Guards stiffened and stared at him, but Kolb spoke before anyone else did anything, holding out his right hand towards the guard to forestall speech. “Knight Esquire Brown, Countier four Lairdgren, was challenged by Count Rodriguez to a duel to the death after the man dropped his spurious claim against Countier David Derring. You all know about that of course, stupidest thing I’ve heard of in a long time and I’ve heard some winners. Tor baited the man into fighting him instead of the boy, who was armed with another one of these,” He hefted the copper tube, with two fingers. “Rather saved the Counts life by the way I think. Tor just held the man down and made him squirm for a while until he gave up, leaving him unharmed. Then settled the matter with apologizes all around so the Count could save face. Probably stopped a war between Derring and Rodriguez.” Kolb stared at Wensa directly. “Those two really need to calm the heck down. Derring’s kids have twice the intelligence of the man himself when it comes down to it.”
Wensa looked at Tor for a few seconds, then bowed. She held the move until Rolph walked over and nudged him. “If you don’t want to bow back you should at least say something…”
Right. He was supposed to be a royal now and all that. God, he was so not trained for this. “Um, so Wensa… jealous lover?”
Everyone laughed and the woman stood up, smiling. She shrugged and winked at him with her left eye slowly. “Well, you are good looking, if a trifle short. Lairdgren… Well, that explains the lack of size at least, I… can you become a Countier by appointment or…”
Shaking his head Rolph summed it up in a few words.
“By birth, his mother. Counserina first. She’s been in hiding from an old threat. Just decided to come back into circles, figuring everything is probably calmed down by now.”
Taking another deep breath Tor looked at Wensa, still shaking a little. “So, are we good here? Do I need to be looking over my shoulder still?”
The older woman nodded, her face going serious. “Yes, obviously. I didn’t try to kill you, but someone did, and it was done with enough intent that the person doing it wore a mask and tried to mimic my general form. They should have used a weapon though. That speaks of, well, at least forethought. Even if not meant to kill you, it was obviously a serious attack. You need to remain vigilant. I promise though, short of an order from the King or Queen, I’ll not kill you myself. Not without a good reason at least.” She gave a short bow again and stood up nearly instantly.
That, Tor knew, was both correct and probably the best he could do with the situation. He held out his hand to shake on the deal. It was a country thing, a handshake sealing a bargain, but the woman didn’t flinch away from it, merely taking his hand in a hard clasp.
“Deal then. I’ll keep trying to watch my back and you don’t kill me without a decent reason. Better than I expected to tell the truth. I kind of thought you’d just kill me really.”
For some reason the other guards all laughed at that. For a bunch that he’d been raised to think of as humorless killers they sure laughed a lot. Maybe it was just him? Did they find him funny? Probably. Oh well, what could he do about that? For their world he was probably exactly wrong. Too small, too country and too naive in general. That could lead to laughter he figured.
Maybe someday when he learned more he’d get the joke?
He got his weapons back from Kolb and all the amulets, then handed the explosive one back to the large man.
“That one’s for you. Being your Squire and all I’m supposed to…make sure your weapons are ready and all that anyway, right? I also have a shield for you, and flying gear. Force lance and air thingie too. I probably should have given that to you already. Sorry, I’m kind of new to all this Squire stuff. Well, if this is over for now I need to get back to my work out, or Karen’s going to have a fit and probably beat me half to death, and who can blame her? I’ve hardly been showing up at all lately.”
They let him go, and he tried to keep his eyes open in case of attack. Would anyone other than Wensa want him dead? Why? Maybe Count Rodriguez, but the attack on the stairs had come before the duel and the man hadn’t even seemed to have known who he was until he told him. Sure, that could have been an act, but over all Tor didn’t think so. Rodriguez seemed at least as genuine in his apology to David as he was in his anger in the first place. More so to tell the truth. Something definitely hadn’t been right with that situation. Was Count Derring really such a jerk that killing his son seemed just to the guy until he was called on it? If so Tor felt sorry for Davie and Karen.
Had he insulted anyone personally? We’ll, he’d been at court for a while and it could just be that someone didn’t like having him around, a dirty little country hick. Offended by his existence? No one had said anything directly to him about it, but then, would they? He tried to think back and kept coming up blank. Some people might be annoyed with him, he wasn’t perfect after all, but who’d try to even just bang him up like that? Dorgal? The guy was a bully, most of the time at least, but he’d never tried to hurt Tor physically. He was about words and intimidation as far as anything Tor had ever seen. And really, if he was going to try, he and his buddies could have just jumped Tor at any time and not gotten into any real trouble, being rich and all that.
After the weapons practice and exercise, which included a little slow running to start building his left leg back up, and a lot more gentleness from Karen than he’d expected after being called away like that by Kolb and the others. She didn’t hold back with him at all when they worked together, but she didn’t yell at him either, except when she had him on the ground beating him with her sword. “Get up Tor! Roll out of the way! Anyone you fight with will knock you down in a few seconds, you’re too little for them not to, you need to stay ready for it…” She added in a few stomps for variety.
Then she had Petra and a few other people take turns doing the same thing for a while.
It wasn’t comfortable at all, but she didn’t seem angry about anything, just pensive. Finally, just before it would normally be time to leave, she gestured to him.
“I… didn’t know that you were a Countier before Tor.” The large woman looked ashamed, as if it could somehow be her fault. She bowed towards him and held it.
“If I ever did or said anything to give offense, please-”
Tor patted her on the shoulder gently, which got her to stand up, looking shocked, but only for a second.
“You’ve never been anything but perfectly courteous to me. Besides, we’re friends, so if you had, I would have mentioned it before.” He nodded at her firmly, knowing that his Two Bends logic might now make a lot of sense to her very royal mind, but it got her to grin happily enough.
“Oh, good then! I couldn’t think of anything, but, um, well, and please don’t take offense, but I kind of thought you weren’t a royal, before I met your mother and sister. I definitely don’t want hard feelings to fester there. Especially since Davie and Petra would gang up on me in my sleep if they thought I had. They both kind of think you’re great by the way…”
He blushed a bit and looked away shyly.
“Um, thank you?” Tor hated things like this, never knowing what to say.
Karen just smiled and patted him on the shoulder, more of a solid thump than a proper pat.
“Good then. I hate having to grovel anyway. So…” She looked serious again. “If we’re friends, does that mean I can get some of those weapons from you like Davie has? I can’t afford to buy them, but…” Her look went slightly wicked then.
“But I can let you borrow Petra if you want? I don’t think that would hurt her feelings at all. My too of course.”
Thinking about it for a few seconds, he nodded. They could both probably use the weapons and gear. It just made sense.
“I don’t think I’m allowed to hand out those explosives. But if Kolb OK’s it, the rest should be doable.”
“Really? I was kidding, about the stuff, I mean, you can have me and Petra anyway, in the evenings after lessons maybe? That would be a good time.”
Shrugging Tor figured it was her way of making sure he got enough practice in. Maybe it was rude to just yell at a Countier and tell him to get his but to painful extra training? But if he needed it, she had the right.
