whom I think everyone here knows? No? Right, Gemma you haven't officially met yet. Then let me formally introduce Sir Torrence Baker, Countier four Lairdgren and probably one of the best people I've ever met. In case the title got missed by some, I'm Alphonse Cordes, in disguise right now, but they still let me be Prince for some reason, as well as a pin cushion in my spare time. Not a hobby I recommend taking up.
“Princess Veronica the fair is across from Gerald Cannor next to him his twin sister Gemma who's across from my lovely sister Princess Karina the-”
Trice snorted.
“Princess Karina quick cut.” She waived the stub of her left arm, gone at just below the elbow around the tan bandages standing out from her rather stark black clothes. Her voice was playful at least, which earned her a stuck out tongue from Karina.
Good.
Trice wasn't someone that could be coddled. She was tough as nails most of the time and willing to do anything to get a job done, but if you let her cry or feel sorry for herself she could go on for hours. Loudly. Better to not let her start. Once again Karina impressed Tor without knowing she did it. Varley was clearly a genius, but Karina had her moments of insight too.
Rolph glared at Trice a little.
“Really Trice, if you’re not going to be grateful to her, you should at least be afraid. Think about it.” He didn't smile about the words, but Tor did. It was a good point. Tor wouldn't have been able to cut her arm off like that. He would have frozen up… and let his friend die because of it.
“Anyway, next to Princess quick cut is Sir Martin Kolbrin, Knight of the realm,
Baron and a wickedly good weapons master, across from him Mercy Morgan, my aunt and Baroness Thorgood, then her husband Duke Eric Morgan. Across from him is Countess Ursala Thorgood, my good friend and next to her is Major Godfrey head of the military's focus stone manufacturing unit as well as co-inventor of the people moving transports along with Tor.
“Then we have the lovely Ducherina Patricia Morgan, who, before you take her out Sorlee, didn't actually stab Tor if I have that right…”
From the end of the table a girl in a black military style uniform looked down the table, her eyes going huge. “Lissa? I thought… they all said you hurt Master Tor then run off… I don't…”
Tor shrugged.
“I'll fill you in later, alright Sorlee? It was different than it seemed, a trick of sorts, but from now on just call her Trice or Patricia instead of Lissa. If anyone asks you, they're not the same person.”
The girl nodded, looking more than a little troubled.
“That leads us to Countess Holly Printer, accomplished military strategist and planner and next to her, last, but by no means least, we have Miss Sorlee Farmer who among other notable things is the first civilian transport pilot and instructor.”
The conversation didn't start until after dinner of course, that being the tradition. From what Tor could tell it had to do with the fact that, more often than not, by the end of those discussions people were screaming at one another and possibly fighting. If the nobles wanted to eat they needed to make sure they did it early. Being giants, they liked to eat, so it wasn't a trivial point.
For once the discussion actually went pretty smoothly. Almost too smoothly. Tor didn't trust it. These things always went wrong one way or another.
When asked what they wanted to do, both kids simply said that going with Master Tor sounded like their best option. No begging to stay in the palace, which Tor would have understood them going for, if that's what they wanted, since it had been their home for years. They didn't even ask what they'd be doing really, though Gemma sounded favorable about learning to be a transport pilot and Ger perked up when it was mentioned that they'd both be offered training in how to fight. The only obstacle really seemed to be their aunt, who was the Countess of Cannor. Tor had even met her once.
The memory came flooding back. He'd been a little worked up himself at about that time, but the woman hadn't seemed… robust. A bit frail truth be told, older, and loony as you could get without actually talking to yourself in public. At the time he remembered being afraid the woman would demand that the kingdom help her defend her borders against imaginary threats. Dragons… or pixies maybe.
The King nodded when Tor looked at him, Rolph did the same thing with a sigh.
“Right, so, since these children are her heirs, we can't really keep them from her if she demands them, but by that same token, we can't just pack them off to her either. She's a dear friend and loyal subject, but not exactly mother material bless her.” The King spoke gently, voice low and not un-warm, but a little troubled.
From down at the end of the table Sorlee spoke up, her voice soft and accent still a little thick, but easily understandable to everyone now, which wasn't the case even two months before.
“Sir, if it pleases you… I don't understand… shouldn't the children be with their Aunt? She's a Countess, so shouldn't that be a good home for them? Master Tor's a good man and would make a wonderful father to them, even if he's young, but this Countess is their family…”
A slight clatter came from the back of the room.
“Ah, don't let it concern you overly girl, they're just all convinced I'm insane, that's all.” Everyone swung towards the voice, a woman stood in the doorway, older looking than anyone in the room, but dressed as she was in a light brown military style outfit, her hair cropped short, like the Queen, Trice and Princess Varley, she looked hard and in shape, and while a little wild eyed, she didn't seem half as mad as the last time.
“I haven't given anyone a reason to think otherwise for a long time, so it's only natural, don't you think?” The woman looked at Sorlee as if expecting an answer, so the girl nodded honestly.
“Yes my lady… If you act the loon, people will assume you are. The question is then, are you?” This got a shocked silence from the room. The country girl was honest and gentle of spirit, and it was a fair question, meant with no ill will. In Forest Far it would have just been polite, giving the woman a chance to show that her mind was in balance and that she understood what the situation was. Here it was like accusing the woman of eating babies.
Instead of outrage, the Countess just chuckled.
“How would I know? Crazy people almost always think their sane, don't they? But is thinking you’re not insane a sign that you've lost it? I can only hope not. Sorry I'm late. I came as soon as I heard about Laura, rest her soul. We traveled non-stop or as close to it as we could manage without killing any horses. Now, from what I walked in on, it seems the plan is to secret the kids off somewhere without mentioning it to me? Good plan I suppose, but since I'm here anyway why don't we go over it just to keep the record straight?”
The woman, Mary, Tor was informed after a few minutes of speech by the King and Queen, listened carefully, tilting her head to the side several times in a fashion that seemed birdlike, as if she was listening to something no one else heard. Her words focused on the topic though, a lot more clearly than the last time they'd met, when she spoke of flowers and the fish off her coastline and how they were faring. Really, if Tor remembered it all correctly, she spoke of the fish as if they were personal friends. Same with the flowers come to think of it.
Finally she nodded.
“Well, I'm here now, so no need to pack the children off with strangers. We'll make arrangements for them to come with me then. Family comes first, after all.” It was said with a definitive air, as if nothing else needed to be said on the matter. That was something Tor understood. After all, family did come first. Always.
That kind of seemed to be that, until Holly spoke softly at the end of the table, her voice slightly amused.
“Countess Cannor… are you suggesting that you’re going to steal away Master Tor's new squires away from him? I assure you he's a man of good character and from what I've heard the highest moral standards. You've the word of myself and I believe the entire royal family as well as several of your own peers.” She stood and gestured at Count Thomson and Ursala, a small and tired smile on her face. “Plus, for all that he's short, he's a Countier himself. Countier four, Lairdgren, I believe. So it's not like the children are going off to live as woodsmen in the deep forest.”
Mary Cannor gasped after a second and stared directly at Tor. Had she not realized who he was? They'd met, kind of, once. He didn't have a beard then though, which he knew made him look a lot different. Without it he looked a medium old fourteen, tops. Younger to some of the over tall giants, since their own kids were always so tall.
