“So, what did you want to do? I could… you know, with my mouth? Just don’t grab the back of my head or get overly thrusty and it’s kind of hard to mess that up. You’d surprised how many men do though. I’m even wearing the right boots for it.” Taking her hand he led her to the main portion of the room where Sara and Ursala sat at the table nervously.
“Right, so Trice, get down on your knees please, since you offered so nicely and it works so well with my plans for you.” He said, holding back a chuckle. She looked at the other women, then nodded a little shyly and took a deep breath. Trice sunk to her knees in front of him her eyes down and started working on his belt.
“Little kinkier than I thought we’d go the first time, but if it’s what you want, we’re all friends here after all…” She blushed, but that could just be because she was in front of people she knew, not because he was there and she felt embarrassed about him being… Him. Right? Shaking his head a little to clear the idea Tor spoke calmly, making a point of holding his mind away from what was coming. He sank deeper, until it could be heard in his voice, he knew.
“Not… exactly the plan I’m afraid, though that does sound like fun. And please know, I am afraid. God this is going to suck. These two need to be here in case it goes wrong. If so, sorry in advance?” Tor sighed, a big and slightly shuddering thing.
“Got a knife?”
She did have one, and after a few seconds she pulled it her eyes showing a lot of fear. Did she think he was going to use it on her? That would be unthinkable.
“So, I think that the guy that tried to kill me, maybe two or three times now, is with the Wards. If you’re going back there, you need a reason for him to have seen you here. I don’t know if he did or not, but if he didn’t notice you, he’s a moron. You ran out openly enough. So…you’d come to kill me yourself, but then someone else tried and botched it, being a moron no doubt, so you had to act fast before you got caught in the sweeps that will be coming of all personnel, and replaced my regular girl from the house, because I’m so pathetic that I have to pay for it, obviously, and just walked in here, sacrificing your… virtue a bit, so that you’d know where to stab, because, you know, it’s all dark, which is why I didn’t know it was you, too dark to see and really, you and I never did anything like this before, so how was I to know? I probably keep the lights low so I can pretend it’s you, don’t you think? You were servicing me in my part of room, kind of like this but a bit more mouth action, Waited for me to really get into it, then you pull your knife and…”
Without giving her warning at all he grabbed her hand and stabbed himself in the left side. Pain seared through him. Not just the wound, it felt like it ranged through his body. He gasped at it but managed not to scream. Well, good thing he hadn’t thought about this much first! He did it again, making all the girls gasp. Then once more and sank to the floor.
“Got a flying rig and shield?” He asked her as the color faded from her face.
“Not on me, in my stuff back in the room. I’ve got a shield, but it’s one of the ones Madam Clarissa passed out earlier…” She actually shook a little and dropped the knife.
“Pick the knife up and wipe it off on my shirt Trice. Make it look like you thought I was dead, or would be soon. Take my flying rig and grab a handful of shields, since that was what I’ve been working on today anyway, and makes sense that you’d get some. Sara, next to the bed, one panicked Trice size handful please. Ursala, if you could get me a cloth? I really don’t want to bleed to death here… Plus, you know, I’m ruining this rug, we’ll have to move it to my section, next to the bed. I don’t think I can help with that…” He started to laugh, but it hurt too much. God this was stupid. But then he was banking on the fact that no one would ever stab themselves three times like this to make an attack look real and not like some faked up trick. Now all he had to do was not die. Easy. He’d been not dying his entire life.
So far.
Sara handed over the amulets and then urged Trice to hurry. The flying rigs hand piece artistically had some of his blood on it and so did her work clothes. Once she got the stuff on Tor stopped her for a second.
“Right, so Trice, you get away, we’ll buy you some time, half an hour or so. Go to the Wards to hide out, let them see all the blood. One of the girls will have disappeared from the house, so we’ll know who the stabber was, yeah? But no one will know it was you by name, just the general description. Do something drastic like cut and color your hair to try…Ugh. Um, to uh, try and hide. That should look right. One second.” A wave of pain made him grunt and his breath stick in his throat for a bit.
“Right… So, in a few days… a package will come, with Collette Coltress. Stuff for you to destroy or sell or maybe give away. Trash me in front of them, but then you… tell them you’re going to pretend to be my friend and come here, no, Capital, people know you here… Then you try to kill me again. Get help from Wards. Meet you there in a month, no, make it two. I’ve got work to do yet here. Need to heal.”
That, he hoped was clear. Ursala told Trice to fly away as fast as she could, dark or not. Oh. He’d forgotten that part. It was incredibly dangerous to fly in the dark, though good for a getaway. No one could see you to follow.
“Stay up in the air till daylight. Be careful.” He muttered, just before everything went dark.
When Tor came too he had bandages wrapped around his middle and pillows propped under his head. It was his little area of the single room, but the dividing screens had been removed. Kolb and Godfrey rushed over and started trying to question him at once. Ursala had been sitting next to him, but moved out of the way. She looked appropriately white and shaky and Sara, bless her, was fake crying over on the other side of the room.
It actually sounded pretty good, but her real tears came almost silently and this sounded a lot more like what Trice did. It made him wonder if Trice really had been hamming it up all those times? Probably. Who cried like that for real? It was a bit like people that practically screamed and roared each time they sneezed. It kind of had to be phony.
There were seven other people in the room. One the military doctor, or so he was told. The rest were four of Kolb’s men and two of his female instructors. He recognized one of them as his friend, Petra, who looked nearly panicked, he gave her a weak wave to try and reassure her. For some reason she started crying, just a little, real tears streaming down her smooth brown face, and not loud at all. He must look a real mess to make someone cry like that. Well, that should help sell the story at least. Still… It was just a couple of stab wounds. They sucked, but it wasn’t anything truly major and she was, if nothing else, a warrior. She’d seen wounds, even if only in practice, so she’d deal with it soon enough, he figured. Tor felt bad about leaving her in the dark, but it was needed for now.
Tor gasped out the cover story completely, including how it was just the regular whore he had in late each night after the Prince’s women fell asleep. He acted a bit defensive about it. After all, if the Prince could have sex regularly, why couldn’t he, right? Tor owned a whorehouse, it seemed only fitting that he be familiar with the services offered there. He stiffened his jaw as if expecting to be judged. Well, that would probably be coming, but his good name wasn’t going to be worth much soon anyway, so why bother trying to protect it now?
Kolb seemed a little shocked at what he said, but everyone else seemed to just accept it. A few even nodding in agreement with him. Tor would of been more upset by that, but half the men in the room had already used the ladies services too he realized, including Godfrey and Kolb most likely. Right, there was a reason the ladies had been invited originally, wasn’t there? After he went over the same story twice and Ursala and Sara put in their versions of the tale, Sara’s complete with tears and just enough different from Ursala’s to sound real, Tor asked if the room could be cleared.
Then he told Godfrey and Kolb the real tale as Sara sat even closer to the door crying loudly. It was brilliant he realized, giving them almost perfect cover. No one could be listening otherwise, he didn’t think. He whispered anyway, just in case. Who knew what magics Ward had in place?
“So, I need to heal up here for a few days, then go to the Capital to “recover” in a month and a half or so. Trice should lead the killers there. I probably shouldn’t stay at the palace… Maybe Tovey… I mean Count Thomson, would be willing to put me up for a bit? Ursala, would you send off a letter tomorrow and ask? Um, for me and you I think. We need Sara here, since she has a real job to do and I don’t want Rolph near assassins at all if we can help it. Not you either Ursa, normally, but if anyone deserves a crack at these people personally it’s you. Wait… would you ask if we can bring a guard too, given everything? There are a few people here that have nearly as good a claim on these monsters as you do.”
If Tovey said no, then he’d see what else he could arrange. The Coltress family might house them if need be for instance. He could bribe the Baron with apple raisin hand pies. The palace wouldn’t work at all. Trying to kill him there would be insane and no one would even bother setting anything up. Except Smythe, but Tor didn’t really think
