might kill, or even do the other things that were done for a specific reason, I'm not claiming that they're saints, but they didn't in this case.” He stopped for a second as people rustled in the background.
“What that means in this case is that, if the person or persons involved is an Austran, agent or not, they face full punishment for it. If desired I can have all of the agents here turn themselves in for questioning on the case, before going home?”
It was the voice of Smythe that came then, sounding far away and a little bemused. Gentle almost.
“You'd send in your spies for questioning? Honorable, given everything, but aren't you afraid we might harm them or abuse the privilege?”
There was another long pause and finally the King murmured something, which sounded like “honored” probably meaning that the Ancient of Austra had bowed or something.
“I'll make it happen, though if I can assure that their safety, if not responsible for personal crimes, is seen too? I'd not want anyone beaten or harmed for merely following orders. They don't really get a choice you understand? So, to that end, if my brother, Torrance Purple could see to their protection?”
Torrance Purple?
Gods that was awful.
No one laughed though, or even asked who the heck that was.
“Thank you Dennorian Brown. Do you need anything to expedite this?”
That was a very polite way of suggesting that whatever Brown was going to do, he not dawdle on it. Even Tor got the idea, tired as he was.
“I have gear with me this time, so I can see to it directly, would it be all right if I were to visit with Purple and Green later? At your place Tor? We have… family matters to discuss as well I think.”
Tor almost wanted to tell him that the morning would be better for it, since he was exhausted, but didn't. If it was as important to Brown as digging out a murderer was to the rest of them, it probably wouldn't pay to put him off.
“OK. Try not to leave it too long though, I've… had a bit of a day.” He thought he sounded all right, but a low chuckle started on the other side of the unit in front of him.
Then he was able to say goodbye, managing it with a decently polite “royal” accent for once and with a word from Smythe coming just before he hit the plate on his end.
“Baker?” The man’s voice was firmer talking to him. Then it wouldn't surprise Tor to find out the man kind of hated him.
He had tried to kill him after all.
“Would you and Miss Morgan be available in the morning?” He didn't say why, but he was the boss, so Tor shrugged, knowing it wouldn't be seen.
“I am. I'll see if I can find Trice and meet you, at your chambers? When would be good?” It was the polite thing to do, after all, go to the older man when asked not make him come around calling on them.
“Ten in the morning? Use a transport I think, at the east side entrance? I doubt we'll be passing on the streets easily even then.” There was a pleased chuckle to his voice.
Then Tor got away from the device and sighed. Now all he had to do was let Collette, and her family, know that vengeance wasn't to be denied them. They still had to make it happen, but it wasn't forbidden at least. If the monster happened to be from Austra, that wouldn't protect him at all. Even the Austrans agreed. Or they would.
If Tor had to go and ram it down their collective throats himself.
So far it didn't seem like that was needed at all. Really, who liked raping murders that hurt young women? No one, that's who. They probably didn't even like themselves.
Now all he needed to do was get bathed again, dressed for a dinner meeting, and talk to all of the Coltress family. In no particular order. Tor was shaking his head as he limped to the door of the room, wondering how to make all that happen. His head didn't hurt, but he felt like it should. This was all just verging on too much. Still, at least the news wasn't horrible.
He bumped shields with Sam as he walked out the door. Laughing, then both stepped back, the boy had been reading while walking, which wasn't exactly safe given the amount of people in the room. It was just a sheath of papers, hand written.
“Lord Baker.” He said politely.
Tor gave him a half grin and sighed, “Lord Sam.”
The boy paused for a second and then grinned himself. “Yay, a promotion. Can I get anything for you? You look half done in.” He waved at the fact that it seemed Tor was holding himself up with the door frame of the room for some reason.
He nearly said no, but then shrugged, Sam was his friend right? He did need the help, and not asking was rude with a friend.
“Um, actually, could you get some people for me? I… Check with Collette, you know her?” It wasn't a small point with everyone around.
“Incredible looking vision of loveliness? I think I could pick her out of a crowd at need, yes. We haven't really spoken yet though. Kind of different social circles and all that.” His accent was there but a lot softer than it had been when they'd worked the flood, months ago.
That…
Tor shook his head.
“Not really, you actually know a lot of people in common. Me and Rolph and his sister Kari? Rolph's parents too. Well, the ones disguised to look like them at least. You did pick up on that, didn't you?”
The boy huffed and made a sour face.
“No. Kind of embarrassing too. Lyn had to tell me about it later. There I thought Kari might really like me too. Should have known, high merchant girl like that wouldn't be looking my way.”
Tor had been there, so he got the idea, a poor scholarship boy didn't get a lot of attention from the girls at Lairdgren.
“I don't know, I'll ask if she remembers you though. She's actually better looking out of her disguise. Still, got a pencil?”
The kid did and took the names down, then ran to get them. It took the better part of an hour, so Tor managed a quick shower, dressed in his “official” military style outfit in all black, with a purple trim at the cuffs and was actually waiting in the quiet room for everyone when they were led into place by Sam, who'd shifted his own clothing. He looked like an overgrown version of a page from the King’s palace. That move had Collette written all over it.
After all, if he was doing page work and summoning Barons and Countesses, looking “official” couldn't hurt. Tor gave him a bow when he came in, not even thinking about it. A simple half bow between equals. He bowed back the same way, which got the attention of everyone in the room fast.
Well, not the Count and Countess Ward, who just accepted it. Or Trice. She hadn't been asked to come, but apparently had followed along anyway.
No one else even seemed to notice. It was like a super-power of hers.
“Trice, we need to get Smythe from the palace in the morning for the investigation. It's going ahead. I can fill you in later, but for now… Um, not to be high handed or anything, but could you do me a huge favor? I need to have Weasel picked up from Debbie's bakery? Debbie and Box too…” It was a lot to ask, after all Trice was a noble, not an errand girl.
He'd have sent Sam, but the boy didn't know where it was. Tor didn't even know if he had his own carriage yet. He should. The whole Lairdgren group should.
Blinking for a second Tor just nodded to no one, deciding something on the fly. Why not he was the Counselor of magic and the guy was a builder, wasn't he?
“If you could take Attache Sam here with you? I'd like him to get to know Weasel if nothing else. I mean, Builder Timon Baker.” He said the last bit proudly, but Trice didn't seem shocked.
“Yeah, those “air lances” are pretty good for an eleven year old. Not too powerful and not a real combat weapon maybe, but they sure made Rochester's forces stand down, didn't they? Your little friend, um, I mean Attache Lyn Cooper? She did most the copy work herself. Last night. At this rate you can stop building all together soon and go into farming or maybe being a boy whore on the side Tor.”
