Well, maybe he'd have time when he wasn't working on this investigation mess. Smythe really didn't want his help, so what else was there to do? Right, make that hand for Trice.
Sara jostled his arm.
“Um, Tor? Your bag is glowing.” She pointed helpfully, since he'd obviously been thinking. Of course with him something glowing suddenly could actually mean anything from a sigil being turned on by accident to an explosion about to take place, so he smiled at her and hurried to fix it.
Tor opened it quickly and hit the sigil that said “Capital”, it was glowing blue, and floating about a half inch above the focus stone, exactly as planned.
“Hello?” He said loudly enough that everyone looked at him with interest. Most of them knew about the communications devices already. Sara gave him a strange look though, as if he were talking to himself. Again.
Like he talked to himself? He didn't even mutter in his sleep. Not that he could recall at least. The nerve of the girl. It took an act of will to keep himself from smiling.
Richard spoke, sounding like his voice came from the palm of Tor's right hand. Crisp and clear.
“Tor! I wanted to try this and see how it worked. Can you hear me?” The familiar voice of the King, with several people whispering excitedly in the back ground.
“Sure can. It looks like we’re about half an hour outside of Warden right now, so it seems like the range is going to work fine on this.”
The was a bit of rustling in the background.
“Hi Tor!”
A happy, but unfamiliar voice came across suddenly, softer than the King’s. It got a laugh from the room. Wait… Karina's friend with the cute face and the large breasts?
“Hello Ali.” Tor had to smile. The girl had a sweet innocence about her. It made his voice sound kind and gentle, thinking that.
Sara gave him and odd look but didn't speak. It was, Tor finally realized, reading her field almost as a matter of habit, Sara's jealous look. He'd seen it before, but never got what it was supposed to mean. Usually it had been aimed towards Trice though, so it could be faked up in an attempt to manipulate him. Only, he knew for a fact it wasn’t. Not this time.
The King sounded very happy when he continued.
“Excellent! With this I can confer with you all daily and even sit in on interviews or hold my own at need. We'll rush those other units out to their destinations directly.” A little more softly the King asked who had the duty.
The question was going to the room in the palace, but Tor knew the answer.
“Squire Gemma. She knows where everything needs to go, and how the devices work, so she can teach others.” For some reason this got a small stir from the room on the other end of the device.
“Of course. Well, she is a Squire, I'd normally prefer to send someone older, but… well in war we must rob children of their youth too soon at times. Do we have a transport we can spare?”
From the front Sorlee called out, loudly, since she was flying and couldn't turn around.
“Several at Wildlands Station, your highness sir, um Sire, ask for Ferra at the whorehouse, she's as good a driver as any and, likes kids. In a motherly way of course. Plus she's got a good direction sense, if you're flying all about the kingdom. Be good practice for her too, if we set up a whole fleet to go all around the land as planned.”
Rolph laughed loudly and offered to go too. After all, Ferra was kind of cute. It was a joke, clearly, so everyone else chuckled along.
Everyone stopped laughing when the King agreed.
Except Tor. It really was kind of funny.
Chapter twelve
Tor hit the sigil hanging on the inside wall that changed the way the craft looked about a half mile from Warden, after conferring with Smythe on it. The white haired man didn’t smile or frown about it, he just nodded twice, agreeing with the timing.
Sorlee went slow, drifting low over the city while people pointed and looked up at them waving, and calling to them happily. So far this was the friendliest place he'd ever been, people smiled at you and said hello even if they didn't know you, and rarely fought with each other, at least in public. It happened, that was kind of natural, people being, well, people, but the feeling was one of happiness over all.
They settled in the spot that had held the demonstration magic house when he was last there, it having been taken down. The grass had suffered under it, but was starting to come back. The other place, where he'd been living, looked better already. Tor wondered if he should find a new place for his house here, so that the nice and well cared for lawn didn't suffer? Maybe there was a good space outside the city? After all, they didn't have a problem with flying here, since almost no one did it and there were fewer noble kids to race through the streets crippling children by bashing into them.
This time they were met by the Count, his wife, the Dowager Ward and Trice, who seemed happy enough at first, but let her face fall when she saw him. He scowled back angrily, then forced his face into an obviously fake smile. Sara saw all this and looked worried, which she honestly felt for some reason. He knew because he was holding her hand, and it tightened in his. Letting go he triggered his shield and looked at her smiling warmly until she did the same.
Smythe walked over to the Wards confidently in his gold and cream robes, and bowed deeply, holding it for a full ten seconds. Then as one the whole Ward family present bowed back. Trice didn't, but then neither her life, nor the life of her child was on the spot, was it? They probably would have openly groveled if it would help. Then again, maybe not. The nobles had a weird sense of pride about some things, even if it meant getting killed or going to war.
As Ursala had put it once, using colorful language, which she did on occasion when she was teaching him about sex, “a noble may suck a stable boys cock, or let him do them up the behind, but never bow to him”. It had sounded like an actual saying at the time, but since she had started doing some interesting things right on top of that, he hadn't questioned any of the implications. He'd just accepted that he was supposed to be the stable boy in the situation, after all, his place in society was a lot lower than hers.
Oddly the Wards all bowed to him too, so he returned it quickly. Had he messed up the timing? Was he supposed to bow to them first? Stupid bowing. He'd thought he was up on that, but new situations had different rules. Sara curtsied next to him, a strange cross legged bow that women used about half the time. She timed her actions to his, so she was claiming to be under his protection? Not the military leaders? Um… Well, he would protect her, if he could, spy or not. Sorlee had done the same behind him he thought, and held it until everyone else had stood up. When in doubt, keep bowing? Made a lot of sense to him.
That done Smythe took over. Fiercely.
“You asked for a fair and impartial investigation, and me by name. It will be delivered. I'd like to start the investigation now. Baker, you're with me. Bring any tools or skills you have that you think may be of use.” His tone was matter of fact. Not demanding, not mean. Count Ward stared at both of them uneasily and covertly glanced at the old warriors missing hand while Tor collected his trunks.
They set up in the cool room, though absolutely everyone there had an equalizer, including the servant that offered iced drinks. Tor accepted a cool water and seeing this, Smythe did the same then suffered to let Tor check it for poison. As an afterthought Tor went around the room checking all the others too, since no one had pulled out a poison detector at all. Oddly enough it seemed almost official, kind of like he and Smythe were saying that everyone in the room was under their protection.
That done, he got out his little kit of devices. Focus stone circles to record what was said, the Ward's new communication plate got attached to a low table, and some new amulets on flat glasslike disks with a glowing pink pattern on it. A stylized “T” with lines through it. It looked good on the white. Soft and friendly. He handed one to each of the Wards, the servants in the room and as an afterthought, to Trice, and asked them all to hit the sigil. They glowed a cheery golden yellow and cream in a nimbus around them, which covered a foot from their body in a
