Knight Esquire ya-2

by P. S. Power

  Godfrey came running holding something that looked like a military lance, glittering a soft silver in the pale glow from the buildings, and demanded a situation report, so Tor tried to fill him in, voice still wavering and halting. It was a bit fear, a bit reaction after the fact, and a lot of response to whatever had been done. Tor kind of wondered why the man hadn’t just used that weapon first. Still, while it hurt, he wasn’t injured really. Sore and uncomfortable, but unless it did some hidden lasting damage, it just seemed to inflict pain. So, annoying but not really dangerous? Not if the user of the weapon couldn’t attack you in any other way.

  He’d hate to be hit with it while flying. He’d probably accelerate straight into the ground. Then he’d really be uncomfortable.

  Tor headed back to Kolb’s section at a slow walk, because the man knew more about weapons than anyone else Tor had ever met to talk to, so he was the go-to guy on that. Besides, other than looking for the person, what else could they do? As assassination attempts went it was the poorest one so far, if the most clearly lethal in intent for all that. A knife in the back coming from the dark?

  Yeah that was pretty clear, no subtly, or wondering if it was really about him. Dressing like they had before, if it was the same person at all, was a good sign too. Plus asking him why he didn’t die already… That kind of showed intent. The mask looked right, but it wasn’t like he’d gotten to examine it closely last time. This time he got a good long look as he writhed in pain. Light brown leather with a slit for the mouth and eye holes. The eye color was eerie, almost black. He’d only ever seen one person like that before. But then it was dark, so maybe the eyes had just been deep brown or even a dark blue?

  Tor knew one thing, he needed to talk to someone. There was one person that might be able to give him a clue at least. One… that might talk to him anyway. He just had to figure out how to set it all up.

  Kolb was outside, running towards him by the time Tor staggered through the door in the dividing wall. Holding up a hand Tor filled him in as quickly as possible. Nothing he had to say was a secret, so he just kept talking when the others ran up. He stiffened a little when a person wearing a dress, one about the right height and build ran up behind him. Wrong style though. This one looked pretty, rather than merely functional.

  Without turning completely he whispered to her softly, not caring if he made sense.

  “Leave Trice. Talk later. Be careful, someone’s watching.” Yeah, it was a risk. If he was gambling wrong, then Trice would probably kill him later. Then again, if he was really wrong she should have probably tried to do it already. That she came back for him when she knew that he knew she was there… that had to mean that she wasn’t trying to kill him at least. Maybe. That or it was one of those convoluted super-plans of the nobles. In that case, he was probably walking dead into the trap.

  “Tor I…” She began her voice tremulous.

  “No. Not here. Sneak into my place later?”

  That gave her a way in if she needed to kill him at least. He wondered if she’d come at all? Probably not. Nodding gently, almost imperceptibly she backed away and found the shadows nearest them, somehow that he didn’t understand she managed to vanish almost instantly, blending in seamlessly, letting the night cover her. It was a good trick. Was it just skill or had she use a device for that? If he could make a light, could he make light leave an area too? It seemed likely.

  Tor gave Kolb everything he knew, which wasn’t much, when he really just went over everything, and then headed back with four very large men guarding him. He appreciated the comfort, he told them, but he needed them to leave for an actual reason. They didn’t argue, but he could tell they all wanted too. Probably because they figured that if they stayed up all night guarding him they’d get out of kitchen duty the next day. He grinned and told them it didn’t work like that, which got a dark chuckle back at least.

  Laughing, if hollowly, they pulled back as he went in. He didn’t know if they were planning on leaving or standing guard all night. He kind of hoped they left, because he was pretty safe in his hut. Short of a really big explosive of some sort being used he didn’t think a lot could touch him in there. Well, unless someone just walked in, but how likely was that? Just in case he kept the shield on and had Ursala and Sara do the same as soon as he could. Both sat at the table. Ursala with papers in front of her, the pen in her hand made it seem like she was writing, not just reading letters. Sara sat with some bead work.

  That was interesting. Tor hadn’t known she did something like that as a hobby. The piece she worked on even looked pretty nice. Small shining yellow and amber colored pieces on a pure white background. He commented on it as he sat down, just after suggesting they get their shields on if they weren’t already.

  “Tor? What’s wrong?” Sara asked as she slapped at the medallion around her neck.

  “Someone tried to kill me. Again. The same person that kicked me down the stairs at school, pretty sure at least. If not, they at least know each other. Same dress and mask. Tried to stab me in the back.” He left out the pain device. That hurt, but if it was meant to be lethal it had failed horribly. He’d fill in that part later.

  Gasping Sara stared for a few seconds.

  “You don’t think… that it was Trice do you, because she isn’t-” Tor held up his hand.

  “Same height, nearly the same build and wearing a skirt or dress. But really, unless she’s secretly been a man this whole time, it isn’t her. Not Wensa either, same rationale. So at the very least this is an outside player, but…”

  But the eye’s. He knew he’d seen them before; he just had to make sure he was right. How could he check though? That was the hard part. The impossible part, probably.

  “Anyway, I saw Trice. I told her to come here tonight, so…” Tor didn’t want them to leave, but would Trice come if they were there? They both thought that wouldn’t matter, so he let the issue go. They knew more about what she was up to than he did, that much was clear. Then Ursala was a sitting Countess. Odds were she knew a lot of things that Tor wasn’t privy to. Sara was… her best friend. Also in the camp of knowing a lot that Tor wouldn’t he bet. He could accept that.

  After all, he probably knew a thing or two about Rolph that Sara didn’t. What that was he couldn’t imagine, but it was probably true at least.

  Tor went behind his screen and started working, since sitting around aimlessly and waiting for someone that might not even come wouldn’t help anything. On the third set of shields for the night, just as he finished, big batches like he’d done earlier, he opened his eyes in the dim light to find he wasn’t alone.

  Trice stood in front of him.

  Lights were on past his divider, they shone through the white cloth giving everything a slightly diffuse glow. At least everyone else knew she was there. He’d decided to trust her, true. Tor even meant it. That didn’t mean that a few things didn’t stir up inside when he saw her again.

  Anger.

  A bit of fear. Longing for something that had probably never been real at all anyway and a few other things he couldn’t even name at the moment.

  She just stood, dressed very similarly to how the ladies of the house dressed for work, at least from what little he’d seen of them. She had a tight bodice on that showed off her bust line and a bright purple, silky dress with black lace trim that wasn’t overly long. The boots she wore were high and jet black, going to her knees, over them in fact. The top part was scuffed from kneeling. It was what the girls he’d seen in the city had worn too. Given what he’d seen from the statue earlier, it made sense, after all the streets of the Capital were stone and it would hurt to be on them in some alley for too long. Kind of sensible really. For a few seconds he wondered if the boots had been gotten used or if she’d broken them in herself. Then he let that idea go.

  After all, Trice had been willing to say the things she had about him to reach her goal, even knowing that he might not take it well. Given her culture and society, it was prett
y close to as bad as you could get with words too. If she had to service some men to make everything work after that, he didn’t doubt that she would. For that matter, she may have had to, just in order to get into the house he’d had put in the back. It would be hard to blame her for that then, since it had been his idea in the first place. It wasn’t like she could hide from him in the kitchen, was it? Tor had found her there in what, two hours? Less?

  He cleared the shields off his bed and patted it.

  “Sit, please. If you want to I mean.” He tried to sound nice about it. Tor couldn’t tell for sure, but he’d though he’d done pretty well, even though she winced.

  “Don’t worry, I just don’t have a chair back here. It’s not an invitation to ply your new trade.” Tor smiled and gave her a wink.

  She took a deep breath, nodded and sat down.

  “You know I didn’t mean that stuff I said, right? I mean the others have told you why? How I had to get close to the Wards so that I could find some evidence on them?” She looked nervous and he shrugged.

  “Everyone’s mentioned something about it, but no one really bothered to explain why it had to be you, or why you didn’t just tell me first. Did you really think that I care so much about looking good that I wouldn’t help set a trap for killers? God Trice. I’d been willing to die for you, what, twice already by then, and you really… you didn’t have to marry me or anything, but… why didn’t you tell me?” He tried, mainly successfully, to keep the sadness out of his voice when he asked. She looked down at the bed anyway.

  Silence followed for a long time. Several times she started to talk, then finally she just shook her head. “I can’t tell you Tor. But know that I didn’t want to do it the way I did, and that I didn’t mean any of those things. Well, except that your short and really your kissing could use some work-” She gave him a cute half grin, trying to be playful.

  Leaning in quickly he kissed her hard. Thanks to Ursala, Sara and Varley he’d actually gotten a little practice. She kissed him back for about a minute and then pulled back, with tears in her eyes.

  “Right, so you’re still short, but you don’t kiss like a dog any more. Tor… I’m so sorry. I would have married you, you know that right? I still will, when this is over, if you’ll have me…” Trice’s voice actually sounded hopeful.

  “Um, well… No.” He said firmly, then kissed her again. He didn’t know if it would soften the blow, if it was a blow to her at all, but she did at least kiss him back.

  After a few minutes she pulled back and raised her eyebrows a bit. “Why not?”

  It sounded a lot more hurt than Tor would have thought.

  He shrugged. It was in the letter anyway, so he might as well tell her now, right?

  “I’m already engaged again.”

  “Who? Sara? I… know she was going to ask. Really, I was kind of surprised you didn’t say yes. Now it would be outside the three steps, but… well, who’s going to tell you no?”

  “No, um, Varley. Sara kind of stepped in as a backup though, unless she gets something going first, which, I mean, come on, she’s great, right? I’m a little surprised she doesn’t have someone lined up already. If she doesn’t soon, my little brother will be all over her.”

  That led to a whole conversation about their options, which given everything shocked Tor more than a little. He’d figured that he’d be lucky if Trice would be his friend again someday and wasn’t really sure he wanted her to be anything more. That she wanted to be his lover… Well, that made him blush. Then again, it could, he knew, still all be a trick. It was easy enough to lie about things like that, at least to him, wasn’t it? For all he knew she really was trying to set him up to die. Tor shrugged mentally, if so, then he’d do what he had to in order to be a good friend. As long as he could at least. Smiling he agreed that they should be close again, but put her off for the night, since he still hadn’t been with a woman and really wanted Ursala to be his first.

  “Oh?” Trice sounded surprised at that.

  “Sure! She’s great and really, if I suck with her, which I’m sure I will, well, she’s already going to be marrying someone else anyway, so it won’t matter too much. Besides she already promised to teach me this stuff, we kind of have a deal of sorts, so I want to get good at it first.” He chuckled softly. “Besides, I have other plans for you tonight…” He let his own voice go as playful as he could get it. The next part wouldn’t be fun, but fighting with the girls about it first would just make it harder. Even he could see that.

  What he said was true of course but he knew that by saying it playfully it would make it sound a little naughty. The fact was just that he didn’t know if she’d go along with the plan if she knew it. No. That wasn’t right. He knew for a fact she wouldn’t. Who would? It was insane. Tor started dropping into a trance and not thinking about it himself.

  First he had some questions for her.

  “Do you remember the guy that started hanging out with Dorgal Sorvee and Marko at school? Older, about twenty-five, mustache, black eyes that were kind of freaky?” Trice stiffened and sat up straight.

  “Yeesss. He, uh, hangs out with the Wards. I think that he’s one of Maria’s lovers. Laval? I think that’s the name I’ve heard at least. I’ve been hiding as a prostitute and had less cock in the last month than Maria in any given week…” She looked away suddenly, as if embarrassed.

  “What? Some of my best friends are ladies of industry. Kind of own the house you’ve been working in you know, so I’m not going to judge. Besides, it’s all practice, right?” It was hard for him to believe the words himself, but she gave him a shy look and nodded, looking… grateful. Tor nodded back, faking a confident air. Friend or not, the idea left him a little jealous. She was willing to take on all comers, but not him? Then, he hadn’t exactly pushed her that way, had he? Maybe she would have hopped into bed with him at any time, if he’d just asked, or even hinted it would be fun… It probably didn’t matter really. The past had already happened, now it was time for the future.

  “So, what did you want to do? I could… you know, with my mouth? Just don’t grab the back of my head or get overly thrusty and it’s kind of hard to mess that up. You’d surprised how many men do though. I’m even wearing the right boots for it.” Taking her hand he led her to the main portion of the room where Sara and Ursala sat at the table nervously.

  “Right, so Trice, get down on your knees please, since you offered so nicely and it works so well with my plans for you.” He said, holding back a chuckle. She looked at the other women, then nodded a little shyly and took a deep breath. Trice sunk to her knees in front of him her eyes down and started working on his belt.

  “Little kinkier than I thought we’d go the first time, but if it’s what you want, we’re all friends here after all…” She blushed, but that could just be because she was in front of people she knew, not because he was there and she felt embarrassed about him being… Him. Right? Shaking his head a little to clear the idea Tor spoke calmly, making a point of holding his mind away from what was coming. He sank deeper, until it could be heard in his voice, he knew.

  “Not… exactly the plan I’m afraid, though that does sound like fun. And please know, I am afraid. God this is going to suck. These two need to be here in case it goes wrong. If so, sorry in advance?” Tor sighed, a big and slightly shuddering thing.

  “Got a knife?”

  She did have one, and after a few seconds she pulled it her eyes showing a lot of fear. Did she think he was going to use it on her? That would be unthinkable.

  “So, I think that the guy that tried to kill me, maybe two or three times now, is with the Wards. If you’re going back there, you need a reason for him to have seen you here. I don’t know if he did or not, but if he didn’t notice you, he’s a moron. You ran out openly enough. So…you’d come to kill me yourself, but then someone else tried and botched it, being a moron no doubt, so you had to act fast before you got caught in the sweeps that will be coming of al
l personnel, and replaced my regular girl from the house, because I’m so pathetic that I have to pay for it, obviously, and just walked in here, sacrificing your… virtue a bit, so that you’d know where to stab, because, you know, it’s all dark, which is why I didn’t know it was you, too dark to see and really, you and I never did anything like this before, so how was I to know? I probably keep the lights low so I can pretend it’s you, don’t you think? You were servicing me in my part of room, kind of like this but a bit more mouth action, Waited for me to really get into it, then you pull your knife and…”

  Without giving her warning at all he grabbed her hand and stabbed himself in the left side. Pain seared through him. Not just the wound, it felt like it ranged through his body. He gasped at it but managed not to scream. Well, good thing he hadn’t thought about this much first! He did it again, making all the girls gasp. Then once more and sank to the floor.

  “Got a flying rig and shield?” He asked her as the color faded from her face.

  “Not on me, in my stuff back in the room. I’ve got a shield, but it’s one of the ones Madam Clarissa passed out earlier…” She actually shook a little and dropped the knife.

  “Pick the knife up and wipe it off on my shirt Trice. Make it look like you thought I was dead, or would be soon. Take my flying rig and grab a handful of shields, since that was what I’ve been working on today anyway, and makes sense that you’d get some. Sara, next to the bed, one panicked Trice size handful please. Ursala, if you could get me a cloth? I really don’t want to bleed to death here… Plus, you know, I’m ruining this rug, we’ll have to move it to my section, next to the bed. I don’t think I can help with that…” He started to laugh, but it hurt too much. God this was stupid. But then he was banking on the fact that no one would ever stab themselves three times like this to make an attack look real and not like some faked up trick. Now all he had to do was not die. Easy. He’d been not dying his entire life.