ready though? Say in five days?”
The man bowed while sitting.
“Yes Princess Karina. It will be done.”
She nodded, satisfied, “you know, I though Tor was going to ask us to kill Baron Diddles for him. Have you caught wind of that one Sir Kolbrin? Rochester got himself healed up from the beating Tor gave him and is coming back for more, unencumbered dual it seems. Dad got the paperwork last night from Countess York. What's your plan Tor, I… you aren't well enough to fight like that, are you? I pinned Sandra down on it the other day and she told me that you probably wouldn't survive a beating right now. Well, she said a solid sneeze, but I think she meant it. Is that accurate?” Her tone conveyed information gathering, not play.
“Yeah, I mean a sneeze wouldn't do it, not really, but being beaten solidly… I'd say it probably would, but that would be lying. I just couldn’t survive it. Without a shield right now, a solid fall might take me out. I mean off a chair, not a mountain. Notice how I haven't risked flying or used my Not-flyer past a strolling walk speed? It's for a reason.”
Karina went white hearing that, but Kolb chuckled a deep kind of thing that he'd never heard before.
“So our plan?” He said, voice rasping just slightly.
“Run away?” Tor was half playing himself, but shrugged. “Really, I'll have to send the challenge back, won't I? Eat sour over it and humble myself if needed. Otherwise I might as well walk out on the field and douse myself with lamp oil and set myself alight, because I'm dead anyway.”
The man nodded, “good. I didn't train you to be a moron. Heal up and then go kick his ass in a year when you're strong.”
“Fuck.” It was a hard word for a Princess. Her accent made it sound royal though. Like something you'd definitely want to try if you could, at least with her.
“Tor… He's specifically posted it with the King’s court. And he named you as Sir Torrance Green Baker, Knight of the realm…”
“Fuck.” Kolb seconded.
“Um, I… don't really get it, what's the issue here?”
No one spoke for a while, but finally the older man, who was actually forty-two, but appeared a strong thirty, once you looked under the scars on his face explained it.
“By citing you as a Knight specifically, and addressing it to the King’s view, he's functionally locked you into doing it. For you to avoid it, would be the kingdom saying it was wrong, or too weak to answer the man. It would create a crises of confidence. Not immediately, but over time the King’s enemies would use it against him. As if they'd do better as rulers.” There was a deep sound, which became a growl.
“So. We'll think of something. Tor can't fight and Rochester can always withdraw the challenge.”
Tor went cold though. He had to fight?
Sure, he was a Knight, and if it came to it, fighting to save lives, and protect the land was his duty, even if it meant he had to die to do it. He could accept that, but just to make this rather stupid man feel a little better about himself? It was insane. For one thing, if he did fight, he'd do it with the best weapons he could find.
Since he had access to those, even on his person, that would be better wouldn't it? Rochester might have a hidden card, that kind of made sense even, some trick or magic to kill him if they fought, but using magical weapons made more sense to him. He might survive that.
“Could I… Challenge him to a duel to the death instead?”
Kolb shrugged, “You could, but this one comes first. If he doesn't withdraw it, then you have to fight him anyway, and if you die, the second challenge won't have a lot of meaning.”
Right.
Well, that sucked. Tor was just kind of doomed wasn't he?
Crap.
“Well… then I'll just see what I can come up with and try to get him to set the date as far off as possible…”
There was a soft groan from the Princess, “Postern. He set it for here, on Postern morning. No one really got all of it last night. Tor…” She sounded like there were tears in her eyes. He was looking out the clear shield that made up the front of the vehicle.
“OK. Well, I've beaten him before. I'll just have to be smarter about it this time. I doubt I could survive a full combat rage either. I… Have an idea. Don't tell anyone though.” Then without waiting Tor took them back to their spots, the school then the Capital. He didn't get out and go in when he set Karina down, letting her walk in while smiling at her confidently.
On the way back to his house he hyperventilated.
He was going to die.
Worse, he was going to do it ignobly, if front of everyone in the world that he knew. Whee. When he walked into his house there was a well dressed and liveried man standing inside. Not the King’s livery, some other royal. It turned out to be Countess York's messenger, who had the duty of handing over and witnessing receipt of the challenge. He looked grim enough at least, instead of smiling and laughing. So Tor did it for him.
“Hmmm, angry that I had to administer a bit of a beating, and now he thinks to come for more of the same? Probably heard I was under the weather and thinks to capitalize on that. Brilliant of him.” Tor chuckled, making it sound as happy as he could. “Tell me, will he be leaving a widow? I have several brothers that are looking for nice wives. It wouldn't do to leave her or any children uncared for.” It was a serious question, said earnestly enough that the man actually answered.
“Yes Lord Baker. The Lady Priscilla Clark Rochester recently married him, not a year past. His first wife died tragically, falling down some steps. Four of them I believe.”
Meaning it was suspicious as could be imagined and the jerk had probably killed her. Tor nodded, eyes half closing as he did.
“Oh? I recognize that name…” He really did. Lady Priscilla… It came back to him in a rush. “Oh! Right, I remember, she was being attacked by a man in full combat rage. He and I fought then, when I came to her aid. We managed to do that without anyone being harmed. Just one of those things. Duke Winchester. He was a good man, that incident aside. He later died saving my life from a Larval assassin, while I stopped a death dust attack.” Tor realized he was rambling.
“Ah, sorry, say, would you like something to eat, or a ride back to your county?”
He actually said yes to both and didn't seem displeased that Trice was going to be taking him at all. Since they were cousins and all.
Tor hadn't realized that the messenger was the Countesses’ third son. Nice of her to send someone so high ranking for the task. He was nearly his own father’s age, Tor guessed, but seemed polite and well spoken.
“I shall relay your words to the proper places.” He bowed on the way out, walking backwards to do it.
Really nice seeming guy. Tor called up his mother, Countess York, and made sure she knew they had space for him, and the rest of her family too. Why not? Even if Tor was dead, the holiday would continue. No need to leave anyone out just over that.
Then, locking himself in his bedroom alone, Tor pushed himself into a deep and focused trance state. As hard as he could, focusing on what essentially made up his own being. If he did it enough, it should help him build up faster. Maybe. He didn't know if it would be even half enough. Or even a big enough percentage to count. But it was what he had, so he did it. He drove deep into himself, focusing not on building anything, but fostering a sense of growth. Of strength and power, weaving it into his own being. Making it a part of himself.
From then on, he tried to spend six hours a day rebuilding his own pattern, and two in exercise. Which was kind of pitiful, just being walking and working with tiny weights, never over thirty pounds, usually not even that. Less than half of his best for some of the exercises. The rest of the day he worked on the festival and helping get things ready. No one talked to him about what was going to happen, not at first. Three days away from the event itself, he was summoned to the palace.
By the Queen.
She was… not pleased with the current plan at all. She said that so clearly Tor kind of winced.
“Which makes two of us, but so far I haven't found a loop hole or way out. If it was just my honor at stake, or even if it wouldn't effect things to make the King look bad, I'd walk away from this, laughing. It's worse than stupid. Instead I'm getting myself ready. On the good side I shouldn't just die if I take a blow or two now.” It had a
