me in the conversation, all right? It’s a little rude otherwise and while you may feel like a high and mighty head of the military, you’re still also just a person like everyone else, no matter how lowly we are.” He reached in his shirt and sorted through the cluster of amulets there, all on plain brown hemp string. After fumbling for a few seconds Tor found the explosive weapon and pulled it off.
“Second, even though you’re being more than a little rude, you’re also right, more or less, so here. You keep it. It will probably last less than a year and it’s not a template, so if you want a copy you’ll have to get someone pretty good to do the work for you. Really, no call for it. I made it in a snit when my feelings were hurt and… you’re correct, I shouldn’t be the one in control of something like that right now. Um, I recommend you don’t try and use it on anything closer than a mile away for safety, and flying at the time would be a good idea unless you’re aiming at a mountain or something. Use it in here and I’m pretty sure the palace will be gone along with most of the city, so, do be careful.”
The man let out a gust of air and so did the King, Connie just smiled and gave him a little bow. What had they thought he was going to do, blow them all up? He chuckled, realizing that’s probably what they actually had been thinking. Silly. He’d have blown himself up too and he hadn’t even finished ruining Debri for the day or anything. He told them that, a little curtly.
The King shook his head slowly. “Still on that one then? Can’t reconsider at all? It may simply be that they know something you don’t, might it not? I know you to be a pretty reasonable person Tor, as the last minutes have no doubt shown us all. Maybe you should take a step back and investigate the matter first? We can tell Debri that I’ve, temporarily, asked you to do that, in order to save face, if you feel the need? You can always destroy them later after all.”
Tor shook his head and tried not to frown at the King. Obviously the man was right. It was moronic to go after Debri House over this. Who would do something like that? He was still just so angry about it all though. It wasn’t fair.
“I’ve swallowed bitterness time and time again in this and at each turn I’m met with another twist of the knife or drink of poison. Maybe it’s time someone else took the cup for a while? I don’t think I’ve actually earned any of this yet, not most of it at least. I didn’t do anything to Trice, I made no demands, and held no real expectations, but she dumped all over me behind my back, in public. I saw it once, but how many times had it happened before and after that? Ten? A hundred? Here at the palace you guys wouldn’t even let me in, even though it meant I had to wonder the city and get a job to put a roof over my head instead, which I probably wouldn’t have had to do if Sara Debri and her family hadn’t been withholding the gold that they owed me for some reason I’ve yet to really understand. I mean, I’m bad with money? How am I supposed to get good with it if I never have any? Sure, everyone claims to have a good reason, but none of them are verifiable at all. Has anyone else noticed that yet?”
He gestured at the three before him.
“Me being turned away at the gate… twice in a row. Paperwork mix ups? Seriously? Twice? It’s really hard to believe, and I only have your word for it. I mean, you’re the freaking King! If you tell the gate guard to lie about something like that, he will and probably claim it until his death, maybe even under torture. That doesn’t mean you did lie, I get that,” Tor paced a little, making everyone follow him with their eyes.
“But, think about it, everything is like that. Trice is claiming now that she had some plan to undermine me and tell everyone how awful I was to draw out the people that want to hurt me, but… notice, she didn’t come to me first with that plan, only nearly a week later, after she had a lot of time to think about it and make excuses. Like you had. Debri… They’ve had months. No, I have to make them see that they can’t push me around. Trice at least taught me that. It’s even fair really, they haven’t been paying me and withheld money on purpose already, no one does business with people like that, do they? If that makes thing hard for others for a little while, well, I’m sorry about that. I’ll try to make sure things get up and running as fast as possible, even if I have to do the work myself full time until things are going as far as the new manufacturing, but…”
Smythe turned towards him, having slipped on cream colored gloves that had bits of metal all over the palms, in an almost elegant fashion. It was kind of pretty, in a strange way.
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough.” The man said, stepping forward with a blank stare on his face. “Not good enough at all.”
Chapter ten
Smythe’s plan, once Tor figured it out, was actually pretty clever. The gloves he’d just put on passed something through the shield he wore that made his skin burn where the hands were directed. He had to squirm away from the pain. It would have been all right, except for the other eight men, all clad in black, dull colored clothes that looked like heavy canvas, kind of like what the special students at the school wore for some of their exercises. They just stepped out of panels in the walls of all things. Not all of them had the pain gloves, but two did. It was enough to leave him trapped in a triangle of agony. They could hurt him, or rather, make him burn, but they didn’t have a way through the shield itself physically. Small favor, since those gloves really hurt.
He fought for a moment as the men tried to grab him, wondering what other tricks they’d have, perhaps something to steal the air from around him? He could get a little air from about three feet away, but if they used even one of his own air chokes, he’d be stuck.
Apparently someone had been taking notes, because three of the men had them and the other three had lances he’d built the template for that would have gone through his shield if he hadn’t already upgraded. He managed to get in one good breath before the air went away, burning skin stealing oxygen from his system much faster than normal. He had to get air, and fast too. The poisoning had really lowered how long he could hold his breath, by about half he figured, and it hadn’t been that great a talent before. If he had half a minute before he started to black out, it would be a surprise. Not really knowing what would happen, he triggered the Not-flyer and rose above the ground a bit. Being busy attacking him, no one really seemed to notice Tor getting taller until he jammed his right hand forward and smashed into the three men blocking the hallway in front of him at about forty miles per hour. At least they were in the choke field with him.
Horrible plan though. You don’t really ever think about how much fun breathing is, until you can’t.
Nifty thing about the way he’d constructed the shield he wore, if he touched the ground any force hitting him would go directly into the earth. If he flew or in this case floated a little, any form of impact did its level best to go right back into what ever hit him. Now if he was hovering in place that didn’t really do much. It just meant that he didn’t get knocked around a lot. But, if he was moving fast and hit something that wasn’t, that changed the equation. In this case the men that tried to bar his way flew to the side except the one directly in front of him, who flew straight back until Tor hit him a second time, hard, spinning the black clothed stranger halfway around.
The move got him out of the range of all the effective weapons and while the lances should have worked at the distance he was at, they didn’t go through his shield at all.
Yay, forethought.
Near the end of the hallway, a good two hundred feet away from the original point of attack, Tor spun and dropped the field that kept him up in the air. He had to in order to use his right hand to dig into his inner pants pocket for his own remaining weapons. He felt a little silly for giving Smythe, who’d turned out to be his enemy and an evil man, the explosive weapon like that.
Not because he thought the man would try to use it. If he did that they just all died.
No, it was just that someone that would attack another person in the middle of a fairly civil discussion like that, especially since it was obviously a premeditated assault, wasn’t exactly stable either. Well, nothing for it now. After all, going back that way meant pain and burning again. He got his own force lance out, probably the same type these men carried, from the way they were trying to use it, spraying it back and forth, throwing objects at him in the stream generated.
He returned fire.
Connie and Richard had run away, or possible had been pulled to safety. Either was possible. What they were thinking ordering a needless attack like this he didn’t know. As the men closed with him, weapons raised, ready to fire, if not doing so already. Tor sprayed the whole hallway from left to right. It knocked people down pretty rapidly. They seemed to be wearing shields, but either they weren’t very new ones, or if they were, the shields weren’t
