straight up from between the close packed buildings.
Kolb looked out the front door and a few seconds later three people ran over. Karen and Davie along with the huge Baron Haver. He shrugged.
“Tor, you know the situation best. Where do you want people?”
He stopped for a second. If they kept the shop open it would look most normal, until people got inside at least. But Haver and Karen were both nearly strangers. Davie would look normal enough, having worked for a week with the man once, and Tor could do the same back in the bakery. He nodded then.
“Haver and Karen outside. The roof of surround buildings, if you can find a good location? Not to put too fine a point on it, but if I saw you two standing around out there, I wouldn't come in and I know you. Little intimidating.” He smiled at them, knowing it was a little sad, but not able to do better.
“David, you run the bakery section. I'll tell you what to do and try to help as I can. Kara, would you run the shop next door please?”
The Royal Guard had stayed for some reason, but just gave a single nod and walked into the next room, clothing shifting into nearly an exact replica of the light blue velvet dress that Debbie had been wearing. It was good work, especially on the fly like that. Impressive really. Tor wasn't sure he could have done the same thing. The guard was taller than Debbie and past the dark hair didn't look like her at all. But she did look like a wealthy merchant suddenly, instead of a kick-ass combat instructor.
Tor blinked as he realized that she actually had been. A combat instructor at Lairdgren. The one that had beaten the back of his right arm into near uselessness once. Tor rubbed at his arm in memory. That had been a few years before though and in the moment, everything hurt and that wasn't her fault at all.
They worked for hours, dark falling and the evening wearing on. The bakery did brisk business and after a while the device shop started to as well, when Tor popped his head in he started to understand why. Kara wasn't haggling well at all. Letting things go for about half of what they normally would. Word was getting around. That would work, as long as they looked busy, wouldn't it?
It wasn't until later, near ten in the evening, that a familiar dark head popped into the bakery side through the outside door.
Box.
The man smiled and gave a wave when he saw Davie, “hey! How’s it going Dave?”
The large Countier turned with a tray full of hand pies to go in the racks for display.
“Hi Box. Not too bad. Little bit of bad news, but other than that, everything's all right. Debbie had to go off to the palace with Kari and her brother for a bit. We've got some people in to cover though, so no business is being lost. You remember Tor?” To his credit the very tall, hard looking boy kept working the whole time, as if it really was no big deal. Even Tor bought it and he knew better.
“Hello Box.” He grinned and gave a pained half wave. It was bad enough he'd had to just run the cash box all night. David couldn't do a lot of baking though, not on his own yet, but he followed directions perfectly, nobleman or not. definitely his favorite Countier.
He explained this to Box carefully, getting a solid nod in return.
“Sorry I was out all day, bit of a bender last night, celebrating the end of the war and all that. Just woke up an hour ago, passed out in some Inn. What's the emergency? Is everything all right? Need a baker at the palace or something?” He sounded confident as if it just made sense that, if there was a baking emergency, of course his sister would be called in to cover it.
“Actually, yes. One of the baking staff turned out to be an Austran agent of all things. Horrible really, right there by the food all that time. Thank goodness he was actually working for a friend of mine, not someone evil. Really messed up situation. All the agents are leaving now though, part of the peace treaty.” Tor stretched and pretended he was just a little sore, instead of the truth, that he was incredibly so.
Kara walked out of the other shop area smiling, which got Box to do the same.
“Hey, I don't think we've met?” The man's voice was a little smooth and oily, but polite enough really. His field didn't react to her though. Not at all. Not like a man, true, but not like a person either.
Tor noticed the difference right off. It was like the man didn't really see her at all practically. It was bizarre. He noticed Tor and Davie all right. And he spoke to her… but it was just an act.
Tor moved forward as if he was going to give Kara a hug or make an introduction, as she started to speak.
“Oh, no, I work at the palace, just in to help out here for the day.” She smiled, a little seductively. “I get off about now, would you like to go get a drink? My treat?” She sounded happy enough. Festive.
A wave of disgust flowed off the man in front of him, mingled with lust. It was shockingly strong too. Tor hit him in the back of the head, shield kicking in making the otherwise feeble blow more worthwhile. The man didn't go down though.
Kara, bless her, got the second blow faster than Tor would have thought possible after his own, and that did the trick. Box dropped to the floor with a thump.
“Everyone not working here get out.” Tor said firmly then. “This is the King’s business. Move. David, Kara, secure him. I'll get the others. We need to question him.”
Tor went to the door, a quiet rage inside him as he signaled out front and called softly, letting people by as he did.
“We got him.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Box, whose real name was Darren Smalls of Copperton, something Tor had never known at all, didn't want to admit to being a killer. No one blamed him. Not at all. The problem however, was one that Smythe, Trice and even Rolph, who'd come to talk to the man and try to get cooperation, didn't get at all.
It was fear.
Well, they could all see that, but it wasn't fear for his own life, not in this. Box knew he was dead. If he didn't talk, the nobles would kill him, but only him. If he admitted to anything, his family could be blamed for any aid they'd given him. Including food and shelter. Or in Debbie's case, work. So instead he just shut up and stopped talking almost immediately.
He may be an evil being, worse than a mere killer, a monster that did things to the girls he'd killed that… Tor didn't really want to know about it. He sat wearing a Truth amulet, with three people intimidating people haranguing him, which wasn't going to work, Tor knew. After about an hour of this Tor had all he needed. It was so clear in the man’s field that he might as well have spoken.
Still, that didn't do a lot for the families of the dead, did it?
No, they needed him to talk.
Tor left the room and held up his right hand, not knowing if it would work for him, but this was the palace after all. He took a deep breath.
“Odd request. Would someone please request the King come here? He's needed. Personally, I think only he can resolve this situation.” Then Tor stood and waited. Nothing happened for ten minutes, then, just as he was about to go and search the complex for the man himself, he rounded the corner, with nearly twenty Royal Guard, weapons out and looking ready to fight.
“Tor?” Rich sounded cautious, but ready to do his part. Physically it looked like, since he had an explosive weapon out and ready to activate, thumb hovering over the sigil. It was one of the smaller ones he'd made, but not shielded for indoor work.
“I need for you to do something, if we want this resolved for real.” He explained the situation, getting a strained look from the King. Then he sighed and stepped forward.
“Very well. It's honorable enough, I suppose.”
Tor led them into the room, a situation that made half the Royal Guard look like they were going to kick his ass personally later, taking turns, which was ridiculous. As beat up as he was at the moment he'd never last that long. Rolph froze and his face suddenly went… sly. He at least got that something was going on. He bowed to the King, a low thing that was totally outside of protocol. Quick studies that they were, Trice and Smythe followed along
