P. Power - Knight Esquire

That got a nod from Tor and it all started to hit him. People he knew were dead? Some of them died protecting him? Duke Winchester had saved him at the cost of his own life? God. Gods.

Mercy’s breath shuddered.

Her sister kept talking anyway.

“Twenty-three people died in all Tor. I don’t know that you knew any of those, mostly staff and party goers from around the Capital. Your people are safe. You saved them. Saved us. Some are wounded. Alphonse was stabbed several times in the stomach; he’ll live, but is in great pain. Captain Wensa has two broken legs and a dislocated elbow. Trice… She’s alive at least.” The older Morgan sobbed just slightly and sounded incredibly sad when Connie said the words.

Neither woman would tell him what that meant, but Burks didn’t bat an eyelash when asked.

“The Larval took her left arm at the elbow Tor. He had a nano pack on him and she grabbed it as they fought, to keep him from deploying it. We had to cut it off to keep the machines from eating her alive. Karina actually did it, she had a cutter on her and figured out what was needed in time. It was a hard act and if she’d been even a second slower Trice would be dead right now. Bless the girl, I really never thought of Karina as being that swift, but I’m glad to say I was wrong about her.” He sounded sad when he spoke but Tor shrugged. Mercy winced when he did.

“Ah. Don’t worry Mercy, I’m not saying she deserved it. It’s just that the loss of an arm to save all those lives is a fair exchange. We’ll hire someone to be her left hand or, or I’ll do it myself if I have to. This doesn’t have to be a tragedy unless we make it into one.”

Mercy cried, hard, but nodded at him. Burks though snorted.

“Good. Now go tell her that. She’s a strong girl, but she’s being a bit of a wimp about this. It’s an arm, not her life. A nice clean separation too, so it doesn’t even look ugly. Young people always want to make everything about looks for some reason and forget the important things.”

Tor stood. He needed the restroom and a bath first, but would get a cold shower, since that’s all the palace had and he was tucked back in a supply closet of all things. It wasn’t really a shower even, just a large sink, but he’d live. Space it seemed was at a premium and while the Queen acted like she expected him to be offended, he just shrugged. It wasn’t like he’d noticed it or anything, he assured her. It wasn’t even a really small room. Nearly ten by ten and he’d had it too himself, except for the people walking in and poking at him. The floor was polished bright and there were shelves of rags, brooms and mops, as well as brushes and other cleaning supplies all around him. He’d had worse accommodations, Tor thought, as he made his way towards the room that Trice had, shared with Wensa of all people.

Neither of them spoke when he walked into the room, at first. After ten seconds of Tor looking at them Wensa snorted.

“Well this is a first, every other time it’s been one of use wondering if you were alive, not the other way around. So I take it the electrical weapon used on you wasn’t lethal?”

Tor shrugged.

“That’s what it was? I barely felt it. How are you both feeling?” He asked this gently, but got two simultaneous and different answers.

Wensa sensibly enough just said she’d heal, and didn’t complain about the pain at all. Trice half sobbed that she should have died instead of this.

Tor crossed his arms and gave her a wry look.

“Um, I love you Trice. You’re my good friend and I mean this from the bottom of my heart… Shut the heck up and stop being a whiner. So you lost an arm. Big deal. You save nearly two hundred people in the process. If I asked you, right now, if you’d give your other arm to save that many people, what would you say? Or even half that many people? Or just me? Or the King? Or Wensa here?”

It took her a while, but she said that she’d make the trade. Wensa gave a wintry smile and nodded. “Of course you would. I was going to say something about that myself, but it looks like Tor here beat me too it. It was a good bargain. Even one life for that many would be beyond fair value.”

Spreading his hands Tor shrugged.

“See? If both Wensa and I agree on something, it must be fact. Now, when do you think you’re going to be ready to travel?” He asked abruptly, trying to keep her off guard. Stewing on her loss wouldn’t help her for the first bit. She’d have to deal with it eventually, but in the first days being distracted could only help. Or he was totally wrong and he’d just seem like an overbearing jerk that she could hate, which still gave her something else to focus on. Either would work, even if he felt like a heel being gruff when what he wanted to do was pet her and make soothing noises. Tell her that it would be all right. But it wouldn’t be. Not really. Still, she was alive and no one ever gained much by giving up, did they?

Obviously a little drugged, or, once Tor really looked at her, he realized very much so, Trice took a few seconds to answer from her very nice looking soft bed. The stump of her left arm was wrapped in tan bandages and sat above the covers on the dark green blanket with a stark white sheet underneath. She reached up and touched her head with her other hand.

“What?” She asked, sounding truly baffled.

“When are you going to be ready to travel? Because you need to get trained up as a transport pilot, and that can be hard for people that already know how to fly using a rig. I’ll make you one with right handed controls, flying rig that is. The transport too, or better, I’ll make them so that they can be used with either hand. Honestly I should have done that already. But that’s after I make a new field to take care of this death dust stuff. I don’t want to be mean, but I’m seriously starting to dislike these Austrans, you know?” Tor moved to her right side, staring at her eyes. He felt uneasy about the missing limb, but mainly he felt bad. She was a hero though, and earned her wounds as much as anyone on a battlefield.

Maybe more.

She’d saved a lot of people losing that arm, including him. He’d held the death dust in place, but if a new batch had been added, he would have ignored it. Tor had just been too deep to deal with anything new. It was kind of a requirement of what he’d been doing at the time.

“In about two weeks or so, when you’re ready, we’re headed to Afrak to deliver some rivers, then we need to figure out what to do about this war. I don’t know what you’re planning on doing after that, but there’s always something. If nothing else you can always go back to working in the house.” He tried to keep his voice serious sounding, but a smile finally took his face.

Lazily, sleepily, she stuck out her tongue.

“Right, like anyone wants a whore with only one arm.”

Her voice was so sad Tor didn’t know what to say to that.

Wensa did.

“Piffle. Just charge them more and tell your clients it’s a special treat and exotic. Two gold for a stump job. They’ll be lining up for it. It’s all in how you present yourself after all.”

Tor chuckled, if it was a little strained, well, it had been a hard day so far and he was tired from being awake and not eating for three days. It was starting to show a little, maybe, so he spread his hands expansively.

“Really, I think we can find something a little more entertaining for you to do, given your education, but it’s always good to have a backup plan, right? Don’t get rid of those boots though, I think you may have use of them soon…” He tried to pitch his voice in a way that made it sound suggestive, which got a laugh from both women. Tor sighed and shook his head in mock woe.