P. Power - Knight of the Realm

Putting down the amulet and turning it off, his light went out.

There was sobbing, gentle but loud enough to hear, coming over the communications device. What that was about Tor didn't really know. It sounded like more than one person. Varley and Connie? Too hard to tell for certain.

Smythe gave him a moment to make sure he wasn't going to lose it and cry himself, but that wouldn't happen, he'd live it for years, he was ready right then to keep going he assured them all, his voice no more than a little flat and cold. Maria, coached by Smythe kept on with her tale from that point.

“So I took the flowers, too… um… rich for an obviously poor boy and threw them at him, then I called him every name I could think of. In rage, but..”

Laval it turned out was fascinated with that event, talking about it often, painting Tor as the true villain of the story, possibly influencing the Prince against her, so that he could capture her heart for himself, but when that failed, he lay in wait, plotting against her. Tor listened but almost laughed. Him? Plot? What could he have plotted. More… why?

Ellen Ward finally looked at him and nodded slowly, telling him something with her eyes he didn't understand. Oh, well, old issues being brought up or not, he was here to work, to stop a war and find the truth. They looked pretty innocent so far. The grilling got more intense for the next hour, with broader questions being asked. It turned out that Martya was a spy, placed by the Wards to watch him and get secrets out of him that might help them in their case. Or had been one.

“That lasted all of a day though. The next evening she came and gave my money back, ten gold solid, and told me she wasn't whoring for anyone anymore and that I could shove my gold up my behind. Actually she said ass.” The large Count said it with a smile and head shake. “It's that ice business of hers. She makes three times that on a slow day and that's just her share. I'd have moved her off the lawn for spite, but her business is a public service, isn't it? It would cheat my people to send her off to a less easily reached location. Besides, it's a handy thing to have close.” The large Count may have been thwarted, but he smiled about it, as if it were a grand joke. Or maybe that he was proud of a girl that he'd seen around most of her life rising in the world?

Then, they'd probably been lovers at some point too. It could have been something more than simple pride. Tor didn't check. It wasn't his business to know all about everyone around him. It felt like cheating somehow. Dirty.

Then everyone else was questioned about their involvement, just as hard, the servants asked mainly about Laval, after clearing themselves. They all had bits of information to share, things the man had said to them, what he liked to eat and who they'd seen him with. Ellen cleared her name in minutes, simply starting a litany that covered all questions asked before. Smythe smiled and gave her a seated bow, declaring her no longer a suspect without asking a single additional question. Not that Tor had doubted that for a second. Really, he hadn't even considered it a possibility. Probably why Smythe was in charge.

Trice…

Her story was different than any Tor had ever heard. She was, off and on, Maria's girlfriend, not just lover and had been involved, briefly, with the Count, but focused a lot more on the Countess. No one cared, not any of the royals. A spike of envy washed through Tor when he heard. But she wasn't his and hadn't ever really been, had she? His jealousy was irrelevant anyway, so he tried to let it go. Laval, however, had paid a lot of attention to her for a long while.

“He played me like a violin. I thought he was trying to get information about the Wards, or maybe for them, but now… yes, it always did come back to Tor. It was like…” Her eyes went blank as she sat still suddenly, a memory trance.

Smythe started to ask her to continue, but Tor held out a hand and shook his head a little. The older man tilted his head, but she didn't take twenty minutes or anything thankfully.

“He kept talking about him in terms of the unknown and the unknowable. He never really explained what it meant. It was a real thing to him though. I'd kind of figured he was obsessed with Maria, so wanted to do things to get her attention when I figured out the Tor part, but with all of them at Queen’s day…”

Yeah, that was kind of telling. The Wards didn't have that kind of clout. No one did, except the Austrans. Even the King of Noram couldn't bring seven identical assassins into play. But why would an Austran agent want to hurt or kill Tor overly? He wasn't a threat to them, not personally. Heck if there was no war, Tor wouldn't even know that the place existed hardly. Especially back then. He would have been a schoolboy. He'd still be one, maybe. Then, he hadn't left school over that, he gone away because of Trice. Still those things were related. What would have really happened if he'd never been poisoned?

She talked for a while, until things started going black with almost every statement. The field wouldn't allow it.

Heh. Right. Spy.

The King ordered the room cleared, claiming that this may be concerning things that verged on sensitive royal family matters. The room was emptied, except for Smythe, Trice, and one very confused little builder. Why hadn't he been kicked out?

“Answer honestly now Patricia.” The King told her, sounding amused.

“Uncle Richard, Tor is still here…” She was so uncertain she shook. Or maybe it was fear?

The King asked if Tor had one of the silence bubbles, which he did, about a hundred of them in the case next to him against the wall. It wasn't the work one for the investigation, just the stuff to go to the merchants in Printer that carried his devices. Secrecy really hadn't seemed an issue for an investigation. Having them made him look prepared though, didn't it? Once he had it down on the central table the King started talking again as if certain it would work. It did, but it hadn't been a sure thing. Well it was private now, spies or not. Kind of.

“I know Patricia. Once builders reach a certain level, it becomes hard to keep things from them and generally a bad plan in this case. He's already figured out half the spy network and I'd guess the other half won't take him much longer to work out now that he knows it's a possibility. From now on well just send people with a letter I guess. “Dear Tor, We've sent this girl to spy one you, have fun, love Rich.” Think that will work? Plus, he keeps doing such surprising things with all the ones sent at him. They keep ending up wealthy and well positioned. At least half a dozen haven't lasted more than a month in his presence, going off to a new job and life so quickly some here have wondered if it was on purpose.” The voice sounded questing.

Instead of answering, Tor just spoke, keeping his voice bland.

“We were about to question the witness?”

The tale was twisted, involved him and a lot of things she'd said to other people, some of them she meant, some lies to get people to think she was on their side. It was why she'd baited him when they last met and why she had glared at him earlier, though Trice did say it hurt when he'd stormed away like he had, because she knew he didn't have the information to understand.

Tor shrugged.

“I was acting. I'd kind of figured out what you had to be doing. You're not that mopey by nature, and if you felt that bad for real it wouldn't have been an attack, but tears and asking me to fix it. That or just telling me too. You can be a little entitled, you know? Anyway, if I get the time, I think I'm ready to try, the first version at least.”

“A magic arm?” Her voice was so skeptical it made Tor blush a little.

“Yes,” he told her gently. It may not be much, but it would be at least a little better than a metal hook. Maybe. If they got lucky. There was laughter at this, from him, but not from her, she looked determined.