If they'd fed him, he'd have to look out for poison for sure.
It took a long time for anyone to come and then they all showed up at once, a long stream of stiff looking people. Probably all pissed at him for being rude and beating up those men just because he got mad. The King and Queen led them, followed by Rolph, the Princesses, Ursala and Holly, Tovey and Smythe of Westend. Tor didn't get up. He was too tired and a little too pissed at most of these people for one reason or another. Not Holly, and possibly not Tovey. That was it. When they sat down Tor flicked the first letter down the table, a sliding toss, it didn't even get half way there, but Ursala grabbed it, looking at him as if he was trying to steal the palace silver and passed it down the table, until it got to Richard, who broke the red wax seal on it and opened it very slowly, taking a deep breath.
It was clear he read it more than once.
It got passed around the top of the table, which was a tradition, he thought, having seen it before, but then the King took it back and stood.
“Well. That's rather different than what I expected I must say. Tor's been to Warden and both the Wards have agreed to declare the war over and admit it as a grave mistake on their part, and give full apologies for their error, then they include why this happened, what led to their mistake, claim that they were not behind the attack two weeks ago and further that they were not behind the mass poisoning that killed so many. Some names are listed…” Richard looked at the paper again.
“Tor I notice that your name isn't listed on here?”
“They admitted that they caused my poisoning to happen. They claim it wasn't what they intended, but they also said that they had me attacked the first time, the guy dressed like Wensa? Maria said she meant that one.” Tor didn't say anything else, because Ursala and Holly both started shouting.
It was hard to understand, but it came down to how they couldn't let things rest there. The language was a good bit harsher than that and had some name calling, but that's about what they were getting at, Tor thought.
The King nodded.
“Nor apparently do the Wards think it should. They both say that their willing to surrender themselves into Tor's personal custody and in fact already have, to stand fair trial. Their only concern is that it be a truly fair hearing, if I read between the lines correctly, not just a show to excuse killing them. Tor it says here that you witnessed them write this with their own hands and sign it without duress? Then you had them initial that as well? Very thorough.”
That was the case, so he nodded. Prince Alphonse Cordes rolled his eyes a little and started listing off all the ways that Tor, innocent that he was, could have been fooled or taken advantage of. Especially in the state he was currently in. Tor threw the second letter at him, which also didn't get halfway down the table. It got passed to Rolph, since Tor pointed at him rudely, who opened, read it several times and started laughing out loud. Instead of passing this one around he just started reading it to everyone.
“Ahem. To whom it may concern: Of course they're probably lying about this, but everyone deserves a fair trial don't you think? Maria keeps over-acting and trying to use her tears to influence me, as if that could matter at all. But if Count Ward is acting, he's the best I've ever seen, and we should get him to tour with a group of maskers or players, instead of doing this silly ruling thing he has going on. Still, they claim they didn't do most of what they're accused of. If that's the case, we need to know it before a bunch of innocent people get killed. Then he signed it “Tor, who's not as gullible as you think, which you should know by now, Rolph.” and had both the Wards put a witness statement at the bottom. Which he initialed. Heh. Funny, but kind of cold Tor, making them sign it like that.”
So, Tor told them, after he got a place to stay and cleaned up, he'd come back and they could work out the particulars of the trial itself.
“We'll have your room made up in the guest house…” The Queen said, lifting her right hand.
Tor shook his head, “No, thank you. I'll find someplace on my own if it's all the same. Given everything I have no doubt that Smythe at least is going to try and have me killed again. Who knows what the rest of you are going to do. The only thing I know is that it won't likely be to my benefit. It hardly ever is where you royals are concerned.”
Yeah, it was surly, dark and probably slightly unfair to some of them, but he could hardly think still, too tired and without rest the reaction to the combat rage lingered still, worse Smythe sat alternating between glaring and looking smug.
It was annoying.
Smythe's right hand came up from under the table suddenly and pointed at Tor, a roaring blast of pain washed over him, along with a blinding light. He didn't move, but a small scream escaped his lips. There was yelling then, but Tor couldn't understand it. Finally it occurred to him to try and hide under the table. The room had gone black, but from the pain in his eyes Tor was pretty sure he was just blind. Darn. It wasn't a partial blindness either, the room was gone totally. His eyes burned and felt funny, wet and sticky, as he forced himself to crawl along under the table. He couldn't really run, could he? What could he do?
He tried to feel the fields in the room and located where Smythe was. Kind of a desperation move really. He was working his way down the room towards him, wearing a shield that was one of Tor's own.
“Sire, he must be stopped for the good of the kingdom. I told you all how dangerous he was, but no one would listen to me!” The man yelled as he walked along, the device he held ready to be activated.
Tor could almost draw the picture in his mind. Of course nothing he had would go through the man's shield, not without killing them all. Now if he had the Counselor’s weapon… Tor laughed, a deep, low chuckle, which made Smythe stop moving for a second. The field Tor wanted to make was basically just a cutter, only formed across the man’s right wrist, inside the shield space. It would take a minute or two though, of course. Even if he managed to do better than he ever had before. While already blind, scared and in pain? Simple, no doubt.
So he needed to buy time.
“Westend?” Tor said while crawling. Keeping his focus solid he turned and crawled in the other direction. Everyone else scattered of course, but then what could they do? They wouldn't have anything that Tor didn't. “Seriously? I mean, what did I ever do to you? Oh, wait, I get it. Of course…”
The older man tried to suddenly attack, but Tor felt it coming and moved before the blast could catch him, rolling over his left shoulder in a somersault. It worked well enough for this kind of fight at least, but he'd hate to try and fly this way. If the blindness was permanent he could cope and still even work, but it wouldn't be fun. It made him glad he'd taken time to appreciate the sunset the day before. Freaking insane Westend hadn't even warned him first.
“You attacked me even after I gave you the super-explosive before, and now you attack after I bring news that the civil war might be ended without bloodshed. Why would anyone do that? I can only think of the one reason… It's because you're an Austran agent, isn't it?” Tor had to roll again then, the new pain weapon catching him in the leg as he moved, he needed a bit more time, somehow…
“Right, of course that's it, your Austran masters have been planning this for a long time, haven't they? Years at least, to get you into place. Smythe of Westend? What kind of name is that supposed to be anyway? Tellerand? Yeah, they probably got you as an orphan or at least a young child, probably bought you from a whorehouse or something, then trained you to blend in here… That make sense. The only problem being that they forgot one crucial thing…” Tor held the focus and felt the whole thing began to gain the needed power.
“In Noram… we use magic.” It came out as a growl.
The field sunk home and there was a sudden clunking sound of a hand holding a silver weapon hitting the floor. Tor focused on the field as tightly as he could manage. He crawled to it as Smythe started to whimper. Not that it would hurt, but his hand was gone, which had emotional impact.
Tor found it and pried the metal piece from the grasping fingers, the whole thing slightly slick from the action of his brushing the bloody part by mistake. Sensing fields was fuzzier than seeing after all. Standing Tor walked carefully over to the military leader. Facing him the man made a keening sound.
“Yeah, I'm blind thanks to you. Don't worry, your joining me in the dark now, so I won't feel alone long.” Triggering the weapon he heard and felt Smythe scream and after a few moments fall, then begin to writhe on the floor. Tor didn't stop and decided not to until the field cut out. The air around him had grown cold, icy even, the weapon taking energy directly from the environment itself. And from him.
Westend still lived, but wasn't doing much, probably trying to stop the bleeding of his stump. He could have
