“We agreed not to mention what was said outside the confines of that room, and without saying why, I can't challenge you properly to a duel. So instead it looks like a good old fashion fight.” Dark clad figures moved in quickly, closing off the entrance with their bodies, weapons to hand. Wensa and George were both there, along with ten others, but none of them spoke. In fact, Tor doubted that the Baron even realized he was surrounded like he was.
The man laughed.
“Oh? A little boy is going to fight me? Hardly a fair fight is it?”
Tor tilted his head. That was true. He had a shield on, and was very well armed after a second he turned off all his amulets and handed them to Wensa, except for his clothing amulet. Now it was fair.
Only it still wasn't. Seven foot tall and muscularly lean, trained to fight and recently even trying to kill a man, Baron Rochester wasn't really ready for what was coming. The first three moves from Tor ripped the cartilage in the bigger mans right knee with a pop that nearly made Tor vomit. The other leg went a half minute later, as the man knelt gasping in pain. Then over the next half hour the pain got worse and worse. It was a punishment, not a fight. The man had defiled a child.
Some things couldn’t be left to stand.
The guards got that, and none of them even twitched a muscle to help the larger man, noble or not. There were limits after all and the guy had crossed them for certain.
When the man lay on his side gasping and crying, Tor relented and moved closer to him, speaking softly.
“If it happens again, I will find you and kill you. Remember this. These aren't idle words. Oh and just in case you want to challenge me to a duel or “make war” over this, my names Torrance Baker. I don't want you to go after the wrong man after all.”
Then they all left, leaving the man there alone. No need to humiliate him further.
No one said anything to him as they all walked away, not even to mention how stupid it was to beat up a royal and not kill them like that. Trouble would come of it, of course, it pretty much had to, didn't it? It wasn't until they got to the palace door that Smythe turned.
“Major, if you would log that as “unspecified corporal punishment”? I believe that should cover things nicely, at least the paperwork side.” The man looked at Tor askance again, but kept walking and didn't say anything until they were behind closed doors.
“I'd heard of course, about your control of combat rage, but that was… impressive. I really thought you were going to kill him, but you actually measured your blows the whole time. Bit of a fool, baiting a person casting aura like that.”
Tor nearly asked what the hell he was talking about when he noticed that Wensa stood behind him, still carrying his devices. Oops, nearly forgot those.
“Thanks Wensa. I'm sorry I used the guards practice yard without permission, please let George know that?” He raised his eyebrows, which got her to chuckle.
“I'll pass that along, though I doubt anyone minds overly. We all heard after all. Besides, just getting to walk after attacking the Counselor wouldn't do at all. This way saves troubles all around. No need for military intervention now.” She left at that, which made sense, as she actually had work to do. Unlike a certain fairly useless builder he could have named.
Smythe didn't hover over him or anything, and didn't suggest he apologize to the Baron either, which was a first given everything. It was the noble’s protocol after going all rage monster on someone and beating them. Then again, Tor had kind of meant to do what he did. Really, he hadn't felt like he was in a combat rage at all. Everyone else had backed off, sure, but that had just made sense at the time.
“So, what are the facts on these murders?” Tor asked, admitting that he'd faked his way through the whole interview.
The facts were frightening. A lot worse than the Baron had mentioned. The girls weren't just raped and killed, they were… brutalized first. Just to make it even scarier, all of the killings had taken place in the Capital and all in the last six months. So far it had been one girl per month, all found floating in the King's river. At first people had just thought they were drownings. Most of the girls weren't from the area and while people born in the Capital could all swim, some of the country folk couldn't.
One of the girls, the last one, was the daughter of a Baron though, and that meant that the King was able to unleash them on it. More than able, he kind of had too.
“I just got my marching orders last night, this was only the fourth interview I had on the matter. Not much real information so far. I'm planning on looking at the people in the girl’s lives starting tomorrow. It's a shame about them all, but this last one really hits home, the girl was popular in the Capital, very comely I hear? Ginger Coltress.”
“What?” Tor said too loudly by far.
Smythe nodded.
“Yes, there's no mistake, the body was found by her own sister, among others. Did you know her?” The voice was suddenly concerned, worried.
“No, I know two, well three of her sisters and have met her father. I… need to go and see to them. We're close.”
Tor didn't say more and started frantically running down the hallway, not even having a clue where he was headed. To Collette’s by the ice manufactory? Her father’s house? Wanting to hit himself in the head a few dozen times he realized the first person to ask would be the King. Now all he had to do was find the man. That wouldn't be easy, since this kind of thing probably meant closed meetings and scrambling to try and prevent war.
Of course, if this turned out to be some stupid political thing, Tor might be tempted to throw his own meager weight in behind the Baron. Finally he had to stop running and just stand, because he didn't know what else to do. He was in the front room, the foyer of the palace, by the front entrance when a hustle of people came in, crying and looking alternately scared and bloodthirsty. Tor understood that, because it was the Coltress family, and the Wards. Come for justice no doubt. He didn't wait walking up to them all directly.
“Smythe of Westend and I are on this personally. Whoever did it will be brought down.” Before the words were all the way out Tor was jumped and hugged by four different people.
Collette, got to him first, and held him tight enough that he was afraid his shield was about to activate. Nita and Petra tucked around the sides all crying, as, to his bafflement, did Maria Ward.
“Oh, Tor!” The Countess Ward wailed loudly.
“He killed her! That… that monster!”
Well, Tor got that anyone killing women like that had to be a monster, a real one even, no matter their reason or rationalizations, but this sounded a little more specific. He killed her. He who? Before the question could be asked Baron Coltress growled the answer.
“Fucking Baron Brian Rochester. I should have killed him when he did it, challenged him or gone to war, but no, I let Richard Fucking Cordes talk me down and now my daughters dead at his hands! I'll have his blood this time! I won't let this stand!”
The name Ginger didn't mean much to Tor, just some things the others had mentioned casually over time. Mainly Nita. They'd left that out during the interview. She was just victim seven. Not a name, so Tor hadn't know for certain that it was her. That seemed sad suddenly, but in the moment Tor didn't know what to do. He stepped back a bit from the group, hoping they'd listen for a second. That didn't happen though.
The Baron roared instead.
“You! This is all your fault! Just one of those things, you said, not something to war over you said. Let's not have blood… Well we have blood now don't we your Majesty!” The Baron closed on the King fast enough that there were suddenly a half dozen Royal Guards in the way. Weapons drawn too. That got a reaction from the Coltress family, half of whom had better than decent shields and weapons. Tor knew that because he'd given them to them.
“Wait!” A strong voice called out, female, and familiar. Patricia Morgan. Trice.
“Baron diddles isn't the killer, he's already been cleared. Smythe of Westend just told me about it. Tor did the questioning himself.” She looked at him as if to remind him that talking was a good thing.
“That's true. He didn't kill any of the girls.” Tor decided to leave out that he had tried to kill Westend, since that probably wouldn't help anything at the moment.
The Baron spun on Tor then, moving to scream in his face now, which at least made the Royal Guard relax a
