was. Being that big and well dressed, he had to be someone, didn't he?
As his palm hit the side of the man's hands, Tor's shield kicked in, making the blow hit with a more solid presentation than his soft little hand would have normally allowed for. The first blow didn't work, nor the second, but on the third the knife left the bigger mans hands. The guy was livid, but not in a combat rage, so Tor just pushed him off the man in cream and goldenrod yellow with his left foot and stood waiting, ready to fight if need be, hoping it wouldn't turn out that way.
The man climbed to his feet fairly slowly and tried to hit Tor, just to have the blow stopped in the air. The man stuck again getting a look and crossed arms in return. It should have been obvious that the current technique wasn't working, which normally got royals to pull a magical weapon of some kind, but this one just stopped after a while and stood with his chest heaving. Smythe stood a lot more smoothly than a fifty odd year old normally managed and seemed almost unperturbed by the fact that this fellow had just tried to kill him not thirty seconds prior.
“Oh, There you are Tor. Did the King send you already? I'd thought to give you what time I could before we went to work, but things are rather more delicate and pressing than I'd anticipated.” The man didn't take his eyes off the large attacker, but didn't seem worried either. Kind of smug actually. Tor knew the look well. Checking the older man's field for injury, it was plain that the guy was freaked. So it wasn't smugness but fear? Abject and pure terror? Oh. Well. Tor nearly felt a little better about Smythe then. At least he wasn't just taunting the man on purpose, simply covering his own perceived weakness.
“Not from the King, no. Just bringing a present actually, here.” Tor carefully slipped the amulet onto the man’s neck and mimicked tapping the sigil, the instant that happened the other man stopped puffing in anger nearly as much and stared, either fascinated or terrified, Tor couldn't tell.
The right hand that wasn't there appeared and morphed rapidly as the old man looked at it himself. After a minute the hand that sat on the end of his arm looked as much like the original as Smythe's subconscious mind would allow. It was nearly perfect. The older man moved it carefully, then felt it with his other hand.
“Very good. Thank you.” He said, as if Tor had brought him a glass of cool water and not a new hand.
It nearly made Tor do a little happy dance like the combat giants from school sometimes did when things went well for them, because he'd half been afraid that the Counselor might get all emotional or try to hug him. Instead it was a simple thanks and back to work? That was manageable. The other man's mouth gaped.
“You grew his hand back?”
“Oh, no, not really, it's not real, just a magic hand. It works and feels though.” Tor looked at the screen under their feet, it was a bit scuffed, but looked salvageable.
“Here, let's get these things set back as well as we can and then deal with what caused it. Smythe wasn't trying to kill you was he? I hate it when he does that to me. Really annoying.”
The man stopped for a second.
“Uh, no? He was accusing me of killing and raping young girls. Said if I couldn't prove it under some lie telling thing, or wouldn't, that it meant I was guilty. I told him to shove his magic trick up his ass. I'm a Baron, not some stupid kid from the hills. You think I don't know how easy it is to get a fancy magic light these days? I own a dozen myself.”
It was kind of a fair point so Tor nodded.
“Well, that kind of makes sense, still, the truth devices are solid. I made them myself, like Smythe’s new hand? The real point though is about those girls, you didn't kill them you say?” Tor focused and cleared his mind, trying to sense the pattern of the man. Baffled but not lying, not totally.
“Of course not. I already told him that!” A large fist closed again and looked ready to swing.
Tor turned to Smythe again.
“He's not lying. We should get him to agree to the full interview, just for the sake of records and all that, for the King, but he's not the killer.”
The Counselor smoothed his robes.
“Obviously. But we have to clear everyone. Still, I apologize for trying to force your hand Baron Rochester. It was a bit underhanded of me. I was going for expediency rather than diplomacy and I can see now that was a mistake. I'm sorry about that.”
Tor spun and smiled at the big Baron, “See? Just a misunderstanding all around, no need for hard feelings, well, shall we go and get the interview finished? Obviously we know you're innocent, I just read the truth of that in your field, so I’m not just saying that either. That's not the issue here. What we need from you now is any information that you may have that can help us find who is. The thing there is that you may not know that you have any information like that. Anything could be the piece we need. Are we set up in there?” Tor pointed and walked in as if he knew what he was doing, just hoping the others would follow.
The set up was familiar at least, several devices that took in sound and would repeat it later were sitting on the table, along with a couple of the truth amulets and a glass of water. Tor gestured to the chairs in turn.
“Alright if I do this one Counselor Smythe? I need the practice.” With the giant still worked up, it made sense to get the object of his rage a little out of the way, didn’t it?
The Counselor chuckled, looking straight into Tor's eyes, his face… kindly.
“By all means. I seem to have made a hash of it already, you can fix it for us.”
The Baron let Tor explain the truth device, which he did in much greater detail than normally would be the case, since the man seemed so uncertain about it actually working. Then once the man was set up Tor tried to keep things conversational and friendly.
“So, Barron Rochester, you just said you were innocent of the killings in question, but we have to get things for the record, would you repeat that for us?”
Without much pause he did, the field staying solid cream and yellow the whole time.
Then Tor walked him through everything the man knew about the killings, which he did as a personal narrative. It wasn't until they got to the seventh girl that the field went black.
“You said you didn't know her? But that's not exactly true is it? Who was she to you?” Tor didn't attack the man with it, not wanting to set him off, but the guy clearly looked agitated.
“I… knew her. Some years ago, we had… a dalliance. It wasn't a large thing, but she was a little under aged at the time, so I felt I shouldn't mention it.” That was all true, but Tor didn't let it go at that. A lot of nobles had sex with girls and boys that weren't strictly legal, fourteen being the age at which a person could consent to such things by kingdom law. That this man was trying to hide it meant that he felt ashamed of it. People would snicker if he had a relationship with a thirteen year old or even a twelve year old…
“How old was she then? That information doesn't have to leave this room.” Smythe put in casually.
The man hemmed and hawed, but finally told them.
“Ten.” He said, looking down at the table top, embarrassed.
As well he should be. The man was clearly in his mid thirties and the girl that had just died was only sixteen. That meant the man was way too old for her at the time too. Tor felt his face go cold as the blood rushed from it. A slight trembling that he really wasn't used to came into his arms and shoulders. After a few seconds he thought he got it.
Rage.
Ah.
“Well, we won't report that, except to the King, of course.” Tor said softly. “Have you done it again, taken a girl that young for a lover?”
“No.” The man said, his light staying pure.
Good. Tor didn't know if he couldn't have hidden the body well enough to just make the man vanish. Or, well, he could, of course. Just drop the body into the sea halfway to Soam. It was something to keep in mind. Or use an explosive weapon on him. That could work with one of the new type.
“Alright. Well, you and I are going to have a personal problem over that in a few minutes, but for now it's clear you don't have anything to do with these murders.”
Smythe gave him a horribly strange look, probably because Tor was being so unprofessional that it was unheard of. Luckily that didn't faze him at the moment, Tor decided. Standing he gestured for the man to follow him and started towards the back of the palace complex, hoping that using it for this kind of thing wouldn't bother the Royal Guards much. Maybe he could buy them off with hand pies later? Once in their practice square, Tor turned and looked at the man.
