It really did look funny. Like a herd of drowned rats or something. A pack of rats? Honestly Tor didn't know.
Tor cycled his clothing a few times, causing most of the water to fall off. It absorbed a bunch of water and then let it go each time the field shifted. It made the ground wet, but no one cared. A few people did the same thing and that got some attention from the others. At first Tor wondered if people thought he was showing off, but then he overheard someone say his name and everyone in the crowd stared for a bit.
“Darn tough. I'd be hiding in my house shaking after that. Bit cold though.” A man said, from the back of the crowd.
They were always at the back of the group, those people that muttered things like that, Tor had seen it before. Heard it. He waved towards them.
“Not tough, and you might find yourself stronger than you think, when it comes down to it. But I have responsibilities today. Can't let that go just so I can shake and shiver. I plan to do that later though. It’s all just a matter of timing.” He smiled when he said it, but no one else said anything about him being there at least.
They climbed into carriages, the old style ones, drawn by horse, to get back to the palace in time for the parade of Maskers to come by, all wore different looking face masks, some decorated heavily, a few in all white, some with smiles others frowns and one was simply a blank white piece with eye holes.
They did a play that stopped and ran around the whole of the city, each group moving on as their scene was done, all the scenes the same short snippet of time. About thirty seconds, then they walked for a minute and did it again. But if you stayed in place, you saw the whole thing. It was the story of the first Postern day.
How a man all in green saved the land of Noram from the great cataclysm for his friend, a giant in purple and gold. Then the giant ruled, and ruled, the years passing by. Other stories were worked throughout. Even the tale of Doretta and Count Wylde. There were a couple that Tor didn't know at all, stories that made the royals smile or nod to each other, but Tor just had to smile and laugh when everyone else did, because it didn't make sense to him.
Then over six sections, the Maskers from Galasia did their version of “the saving of the city” apparently adapted from the children's play. The one in which the mean little troll Tor had to be bribed, cajoled, begged, and in this one, berated and mildly beaten by Sara Debri to impart the magical devices which cleaned the city's water supply and in this new version, conned into fixing the city’s sewer system by Ferdinand Gala. It involved a pretty clever trick and the substitution of a straw filled dummy for his own daughter, Meryl. The little masked troll seemed happy enough with her.
By the time the sixth and final second moved on everyone in the royal box was staring at him. He wasn't in that section, choosing to sit with his mother and the Wards, who seemed to have hit it off for some reason. Possibly plotting to get him.
At least Maria was championing him.
“I can't believe they did that. It's…” She shook her head, and for once instead of claiming someone should go to war or anything like that, she just sighed and shook her head.
“If nothing else they should pay attention to who's paying them, don't you think?”
The Count looked over his shoulder and shrugged.
“I think they are, actually. Think about it, how many plays are there that have Tor as the main character? They probably picked up that this was all being paid for by him and just went with the only one they knew of, to honor him.”
Tor's mother laughed though.
“Ah, ah… You'll give him a big head. I'm sure they just thought it was funny, which to anyone that knows my son, it truly is. After all, a troll? And needing to be begged to help people? None of my children would be that cold and Torrance is always generous to a fault.” She didn't sound displeased by any of that, even if she was talking about him as if he wasn't sitting right there.
It always bothered him when people did that. Which she knew.
Tor didn't say anything though, because everyone else was having a good time, why spoil it? Tor just forced a grin and shrugged.
“What? I have the dummy in my house. I call her “Missy Gala”.”
Everyone that could hear him chuckled politely at least. Maria sighed and touched his arm gently.
“Best troll ever.” She whispered, not unkindly.
After the parade a carriage flew over the city, followed by seven more. Slowly, like they were landing at the palace itself, instead of in the street in front of it, behind the Maskers procession. They were all done in purple and gold, the royal colors. After the first one settled the others did too, in a line, a single file of crafts in the street, then Kolb and his people all climbed out, a single, much smaller, figure with them.
Denno Brown.
He was dressed in brown, but the clothing was fine, incredibly so. After a second Tor got that, understanding magic or not, the man was dressed in clothing from a device. Well, that could only be good for him, couldn't it. Branching out like that?
“Attend all!” Kolb bellowed loudly.
Tor did at least. The guy looked ready to give a speech or something, dressed in more finery himself than the man had in the whole time they'd known each other.
“Attend all to the news! Glost Serge, the leader of Austra is dead. Daria Serge, his likely successor is also dead! Austra has declared peace. The war is over!” It was loud at least and took a few seconds to sink in.
The war was over?
Tor stood, stiff and uncomfortable from the hour and a half of sitting already, and cheered. It was a hoarse and weak thing, but heartfelt.
“The war is over!” He screamed as best he could, several times.
Then everyone else did too.
Chapter Twenty
After the first eight rounds of cheering, with people running after the Masker parade to spread the news, Tor managed to get a little closer to the royal box, by actually standing in front of it, just off to the side. After all he knew everyone and no one blinked at the idea. Plus if it was a trick or anything, he could tell. Denno might lie to them, but no one else there would.
Really though it was really pushy of him to interject himself, so he didn't say anything. He was a Knight though, so he pretended to be a guard and no one sent him away. Go figure.
“Situation report?” King Richard said calmly, fighting a smile until he knew what was actually going on it seemed.
Kolb nodded.
“The mission to Austra was successful as planned Sire, afterwards we opened a…dialog with the remaining rulers of the country, the parliament, and suggested that we would be pleased with a simple ceasing of hostilities, rather than surrender or enslavement of their people. They took a vote, and decided it was a good idea. We could not return with either of the heads however.” Kolb looked at Karina and bowed.
“But I assure you that they were verified personally. They are also being held in Austra for further authentication, as we may demand. They took a vote on that too. They seem to enjoy it, voting.” The large combat master smiled.
“Their votes became rather more friendly as soon as the Serges were out of the picture Sire. Indeed after a few tense moments early on, there was hardly any problem at all. Especially when they realized we weren't demanding reparations or calling for criminal action against anyone still living.”
People applauded. It was a loud thing that led to cheering and more people leaving to spread the news.
Along the street, directly in front of the palace, all of Kolb's people were lined up, Petra was three carriages back, with Karen and Davie Derring. It occurred to Tor that if they wanted to keep the secret group any kind of secret at all, they needed to get them off the street fast. Not that they weren't already seen. It was a bit of a challenge though. How could they get rid of them without being insulting? Especially since they'd just ended a war
