pitch. It turned out the young man had a whole family that could do this kind of thing. Some of whom might even be willing to relocate.
Could he just hire people like that? Well, more to the point, if he paid for it, would the military stop him? Tor didn’t think so. He’d get into town soon and ask about it at the palace. He could sweeten the deal with some shields and flying rigs if he hurried. First though, he had to get the new pump system put in so that everyone had water to their bath houses and restrooms. It took until dark, when lights started coming on in the surrounding buildings he headed back to his own hut.
He’d gotten just passed the door cut in the tall inner wall when he saw the silhouette.
It was a person, female, and even wearing a dress or skirt. Or a man wearing a skirt, if it was something sinister, he supposed. It really felt that way. Dark and evil, to tell the truth. It caught the attention if nothing else.
Tor had his shield on already, it was just habit after all that had happened. The figure held a knife, the edge glittering gently in the light from the nearest buildings, and they waited for him to pass before jumping out and trying to stab him. It wasn’t a clumsy move, not really, but the lights of the building had back lit the form. The size was right, but Tor knew one thing for certain. It wasn’t Trice or Wensa. Either of them would have known that he had a shield on all the time by now, especially if he was outside. The mask was the same as before, Tor thought so anyway. A full leather thing that looked to fasten in the back. Kind of like the helm that Trice had worn the other day.
Tor hit the sigil on the Not-flyer he wore. It was one of the new kind too, faster than the ones allowed in town. Catching up to the running form wasn’t hard with the extra speed, but grabbing them was. Twist followed turn as they fled, making it a real enough race, even if Tor was traveling about four times faster than the assassin. He didn’t stop, doubling back over and over again, trying to catch hold or knock the person over. Finally he got them cornered.
Literally.
They’d run towards the wall, but in a direction there was no door, where the inner dividing wall met the outer and they joined, fused glass like focus stone leaving no seam or gap to wiggle through, no hand hold to allow climbing. They spun around and fought with their waistband, obviously going for a weapon of some kind. Tor slammed into them as fast as he could go, letting his shield force their body back, slamming the person into the wall hard. Dress or not, the grunt that came out was all man. Deep and oddly accented.
So were the words that followed.
“Fuck! Why don’t you just die already you half sized freak?” The man said, slightly muffled by the mask. The voice was deep enough, but not one he recognized at all.
Then a brilliant blue light came from the man’s hand, something he held, Tor guessed, as pain ripped through his body and he started to convulse over and over again. The man hung over him and tried to kick him, but the foot stopped in the air. His weapon may be able to get through the shield, and it hurt badly, but the man still couldn’t touch him. Heh. Well, another thing to be fixed on the shield then.
A minute or two later, pain coursing through him the whole time, Tor heard people coming. The man said “fuck” again, but ran off. By the time people started showing up Tor had climbed to his feet shakily. That… whatever it was, hurt. He’d never heard of a weapon that could do that. It went right through his shield, so there was no physical component. A mental effect? Most of those should be filtered out already, but it could be. That or someone had found a way around what he’d guarded against already. Could it have been the light? That made sense, he’d never seen a real need to shield against light at all. How it worked to make his muscles seize up like that, he didn’t know. Effective though.
Godfrey came running holding something that looked like a military lance, glittering a soft silver in the pale glow from the buildings, and demanded a situation report, so Tor tried to fill him in, voice still wavering and halting. It was a bit fear, a bit reaction after the fact, and a lot of response to whatever had been done. Tor kind of wondered why the man hadn’t just used that weapon first. Still, while it hurt, he wasn’t injured really. Sore and uncomfortable, but unless it did some hidden lasting damage, it just seemed to inflict pain. So, annoying but not really dangerous? Not if the user of the weapon couldn’t attack you in any other way.
He’d hate to be hit with it while flying. He’d probably accelerate straight into the ground. Then he’d really be uncomfortable.
Tor headed back to Kolb’s section at a slow walk, because the man knew more about weapons than anyone else Tor had ever met to talk to, so he was the go-to guy on that. Besides, other than looking for the person, what else could they do? As assassination attempts went it was the poorest one so far, if the most clearly lethal in intent for all that. A knife in the back coming from the dark?
Yeah that was pretty clear, no subtly, or wondering if it was really about him. Dressing like they had before, if it was the same person at all, was a good sign too. Plus asking him why he didn’t die already… That kind of showed intent. The mask looked right, but it wasn’t like he’d gotten to examine it closely last time. This time he got a good long look as he writhed in pain. Light brown leather with a slit for the mouth and eye holes. The eye color was eerie, almost black. He’d only ever seen one person like that before. But then it was dark, so maybe the eyes had just been deep brown or even a dark blue?
Tor knew one thing, he needed to talk to someone. There was one person that might be able to give him a clue at least. One… that might talk to him anyway. He just had to figure out how to set it all up.
Kolb was outside, running towards him by the time Tor staggered through the door in the dividing wall. Holding up a hand Tor filled him in as quickly as possible. Nothing he had to say was a secret, so he just kept talking when the others ran up. He stiffened a little when a person wearing a dress, one about the right height and build ran up behind him. Wrong style though. This one looked pretty, rather than merely functional.
Without turning completely he whispered to her softly, not caring if he made sense.
“Leave Trice. Talk later. Be careful, someone’s watching.” Yeah, it was a risk. If he was gambling wrong, then Trice would probably kill him later. Then again, if he was really wrong she should have probably tried to do it already. That she came back for him when she knew that he knew she was there… that had to mean that she wasn’t trying to kill him at least. Maybe. That or it was one of those convoluted super-plans of the nobles. In that case, he was probably walking dead into the trap.
“Tor I…” She began her voice tremulous.
“No. Not here. Sneak into my place later?”
That gave her a way in if she needed to kill him at least. He wondered if she’d come at all? Probably not. Nodding gently, almost imperceptibly she backed away and found the shadows nearest them, somehow that he didn’t understand she managed to vanish almost instantly, blending in seamlessly, letting the night cover her. It was a good trick. Was it just skill or had she use a device for that? If he could make a light, could he make light leave an area too? It seemed likely.
Tor gave Kolb everything he knew, which wasn’t much, when he really just went over everything, and then headed back with four very large men guarding him. He appreciated the comfort, he told them, but he needed them to leave for an actual reason. They didn’t argue, but he could tell they all wanted too. Probably because they figured that if they stayed up all night guarding him they’d get out of kitchen duty the next day. He grinned and told them it didn’t work like that, which got a dark chuckle back at least.
Laughing, if hollowly, they pulled back as he went in. He didn’t know if they were planning on leaving or standing guard all night. He kind of hoped they left, because he was pretty safe in his hut. Short of a really big explosive of some sort being used he didn’t think a lot could touch him in there. Well, unless someone just walked in, but how likely was that? Just in case he kept the shield on and had Ursala and Sara do the same as soon as he could. Both sat at the table. Ursala with papers in front of her, the pen in her hand made it seem like she was writing, not just reading letters. Sara sat with some bead work.
That was interesting. Tor hadn’t known she did something like that as a hobby. The piece she worked on even looked pretty nice. Small shining yellow and amber colored pieces on a pure white background. He commented on it as he sat down, just after suggesting they get their shields on if they weren’t already.
“Tor? What’s wrong?” Sara asked as she slapped at the medallion around her neck.
“Someone tried to kill me. Again. The same person that kicked me down the stairs at school, pretty sure at least. If not, they at least know each other. Same dress and mask. Tried to stab me in the back.” He left out the pain device. That hurt, but if it was meant to be lethal it had failed horribly. He’d fill in that part later.
Gasping Sara stared for a few seconds.
