P. Power - Knight of the Realm

Smythe walked over to the Wards confidently in his gold and cream robes, and bowed deeply, holding it for a full ten seconds. Then as one the whole Ward family present bowed back. Trice didn't, but then neither her life, nor the life of her child was on the spot, was it? They probably would have openly groveled if it would help. Then again, maybe not. The nobles had a weird sense of pride about some things, even if it meant getting killed or going to war.

As Ursala had put it once, using colorful language, which she did on occasion when she was teaching him about sex, “a noble may suck a stable boys cock, or let him do them up the behind, but never bow to him”. It had sounded like an actual saying at the time, but since she had started doing some interesting things right on top of that, he hadn't questioned any of the implications. He'd just accepted that he was supposed to be the stable boy in the situation, after all, his place in society was a lot lower than hers.

Oddly the Wards all bowed to him too, so he returned it quickly. Had he messed up the timing? Was he supposed to bow to them first? Stupid bowing. He'd thought he was up on that, but new situations had different rules. Sara curtsied next to him, a strange cross legged bow that women used about half the time. She timed her actions to his, so she was claiming to be under his protection? Not the military leaders? Um… Well, he would protect her, if he could, spy or not. Sorlee had done the same behind him he thought, and held it until everyone else had stood up. When in doubt, keep bowing? Made a lot of sense to him.

That done Smythe took over. Fiercely.

“You asked for a fair and impartial investigation, and me by name. It will be delivered. I'd like to start the investigation now. Baker, you're with me. Bring any tools or skills you have that you think may be of use.” His tone was matter of fact. Not demanding, not mean. Count Ward stared at both of them uneasily and covertly glanced at the old warriors missing hand while Tor collected his trunks.

They set up in the cool room, though absolutely everyone there had an equalizer, including the servant that offered iced drinks. Tor accepted a cool water and seeing this, Smythe did the same then suffered to let Tor check it for poison. As an afterthought Tor went around the room checking all the others too, since no one had pulled out a poison detector at all. Oddly enough it seemed almost official, kind of like he and Smythe were saying that everyone in the room was under their protection.

That done, he got out his little kit of devices. Focus stone circles to record what was said, the Ward's new communication plate got attached to a low table, and some new amulets on flat glasslike disks with a glowing pink pattern on it. A stylized “T” with lines through it. It looked good on the white. Soft and friendly. He handed one to each of the Wards, the servants in the room and as an afterthought, to Trice, and asked them all to hit the sigil. They glowed a cheery golden yellow and cream in a nimbus around them, which covered a foot from their body in a light easily visible to all. It wasn't bright enough to read by, but in a very dark room you could navigate by it, and not hit the walls, so it was good enough. It looked a lot like Smythe robes, and that wasn't an accident, but no one else seemed to notice.

Well, as insults went it wasn't a very good one, was it?

Everyone seemed curious but Smythe silenced them with a glance, as if he knew exactly what was going on, being in on the plan himself. Tor suddenly felt cheap and mean for not having clued him in first. If he'd been rude to him before, and more than a bit cold… now the older councilor was all business, proper and working as if they were teammates, not mortal enemies. Suppressing a sigh Tor contacted the palace using the Warden communications device, the King's voice coming a few seconds later.

“This is King Richard Cordes. Are we to begin?”

Smythe stood and bowed to the plate, a useless, but respectful gesture, so Tor copied it. These were formal proceedings after all. Everyone else did too then. When they all stood, Tor got the speak-back started.

Looking around and knowing the King couldn't see what was going on, Tor started describing everything. His voice sounded very formal, even to his own ears, but decided to just go with it. Lives hung in the balance here after all. Formal would work.

“I have started a magical device that will allow everything said here to be repeated, exactly as said, later, on demand. In the room we have William Smythe of Westend, Count Marvin Ward, Countess Maria Ward, The counts mother Ellen Ward, Patricia Morgan,” He looked at the servants and asked for their names which he repeated clearly, including their titles, but after the names, just so everyone would know who was who. “As well as myself, Torrence Baker. On the communications device is Richard Cordes…”

Was there anyone else in the room with him? There was it seemed as voices spoke their names one by one so Tor repeated them, using their full names, with no titles, except for the accused and the witnesses.

“Constance Cordes, Veronica Cordes, Karina Cordes.” Rolph was off delivering plates already? Good. The faster they could chat with people without a visit, the better. He missed Ursala and keeping in touch with Holly might prevent accidental mayhem. Always a good thing.

Proper mayhem should be planned. Plus he should make a point of chatting with Mary Cannor if he got a chance. She was family after all. Really he should get one to Two Bends too.

“Each person to be question has been given a magical device which causes a gold and cream colored glow around them. This glow turns black if an untruth is told. Not simply a lie, but things remembered incorrectly or misstated as well, if it's within conscious or unconscious knowledge. I shall call out any changes as they may occur.”

Then he bowed to Smythe as if it were all planned and sat down, deciding not to speak unless asked, except to describe the scene in the room. The man was surprisingly polite and gentle, even when bluntly asking questions that would have made a dockside whore blush. Not really, Tor knew, but they were hard when you considered he was going after a Count.

“Count Ward… did you at any time order the death of any person.” Tor felt excited when the man simply said yes, but all of those people were criminals and pretty bad ones by the sound of it. They didn't generally kill over theft here, just used people as free labor until the dept was repaid. When the question was changed to ordering the specific poisoned royals to be killed, harmed or threatened, he said no confidently, but a black slash streaked across the gold and cream glow of the giant man.

It took a while to get it out of him, but he'd once ordered Count Derring threatened, with cause. It was years before and nothing came of it. He also hadn't gone after any Noram generals. When the question turned to Tor things changed. He didn't lie overtly, but he hedged several times, getting black streaks, if small ones. Smythe, for his part, was relentless.

“Tell me now, what are you hiding? Don't bother lying about it, that will just waste time.” The brown eyes stared at the larger man, pinning him without offering hostility.

“Alright… I didn't order it, not exactly, but I may have hinted that Tor should be taken care of after his intervention in the Ursala Thorgood matter. I was… angry. It was silly of me, but I felt embarrassed that such a tiny man could best me so easily in a fight. He didn't even have the grace to strike me down, just stood and let me exhaust myself as if I were a small child having a tantrum. I realized later that I was being a large child having a tantrum, but I was upset for a while.”

No flickers came then at all.