He smiled at the baby.
“She's beautiful. Thank you for being so kind to me. It was all an act, on my part, but it wasn't lost on me how often you took time for a little orphan all alone in the world. No one back home would have bothered.” He bowed too.
“Keep that goodness, for as long as you can.”
Varley shook her head but didn't say anything, just looking sad.
Rolph looked around the room and grinned happily enough, apparently not concerned at all with the fact that so many people that lived with him were Austran agents.
“Let it be noted, none of them are women that I slept with.” He said softly, getting a nod from everyone else.
Tor shrugged at him.
“Not yet. We need to see all of them first though, don't we. I really hate all this stuff. Well, if no one wants to kick Quavel's butt, I need to make sure they get home safe now. They'll be at my house as… guests.” He turned to the King and Queen and bowed.
“I mean that too. Though I suggest they get their rooms and stay there until they leave, I won't lock them in. If they were going to make more problems they just wouldn't have come forward, right? No need to punish them now.” Unless there was, which was his point, but no one said anything.
The King released them with a word and a regal nod, and without asking if it was all right, Rolph and Karina both hopped up and followed them out of the room. Well, these men probably weren't a threat, were they? If they were, all the royal family would probably already be dead.
It wasn't until they all piled in to the Tor's Carriage that Rolph asked the question.
“So… which of you stole Tor's King’s day invitations?” The words were calm and even, but certain, as if he already knew.
Quavel chuckled darkly.
“I did. The little midget would have thrown off the seating arrangements at the table. It wouldn't have been so bad if Connie would have set him a ways down, but no, Tor had to be right at her side all the time. That's fine at normal functions, it just looks like a child sitting by her, but at the King’s celebration we sit grand procession style, so it would have looked horrible. I don't think he would have been seen over the table and putting blocks or a stand in place would make it too hard for everyone else to walk out to the ball after.”
Oh. Well, that made sense then. Tor just nodded gently, but Kenner snorted.
“Really? You got him snubbed just because it would throw of the look of a table seating pattern? That's pretty low. Couldn't you have, I don't know, just gotten him to float higher or something? Or maybe just sit someplace else? I'm sure if you mentioned it to him he'd have done it. Even begged the Queen for it.” The boy said an odd word, something Tor didn't know but suspected wasn't very nice. It seemed directed at Quavel.
Or whatever his real name was.
“When I had to walk the communications plate in after the L attack down south? He said that if I was to be beaten for it, he'd take it for me personally. No one ever mentioned it, any kind of punishment for it at all, but Sally, the house mistress in charge of me? She told me later that she'd gotten orders from the King for it. Anyone willing to take a spanking for a little kid can't be all bad.”
The older man sighed.
“Well, I'm sure he'll get in this next year. Really though Tor, make sure you aren't at the cross table, will you? It's just… wrong. Or at least build a higher float like you've been using.” The strange thing was that the man actually sounded worried about it.
“I'll take it under advisement.” That, for some reason got a laugh from the back seat, where Smythe and three Royal Guards sat. It was Wensa, Veren and Kara, the dark haired woman with a hawk like nose.
They all laughed though.
Was it funny? Maybe. They laughed harder when Quavel said, “very good sir.”
Luckily Trice was flying, since Tor kept twinging and aching enough that it would have distracted him. As it was he kept feeling like he'd forgotten something. Something big. It niggled at him the whole trip, all three minutes of it, and didn't go away when he walked into his house, to find seven Austran agents sitting in a meeting room waiting for them to get in. The staff had served refreshments.
Well, that was better than handing out beatings at least. Kind of set the tone for this not being a dangerous punishment or something like that.
Tor passed out Truth amulets and worked out that none of the people in the room was a deranged killer and got Trice to take notes as to any other contacts they knew of in kingdom. The numbers kept growing, more agents coming through the day, but no one knew anything, until a woman of about twenty-five came in.
“I work as the Cartwright’s helper. The one by the south wall?” She said when asked. Tor actually knew where that was, it being on the way to Debbie's bakery. Three buildings down, a kind of large place with a fenced area for the carts to pull in.
That reminded him of his dream. Box. Right. Sighing Tor shook his head, figuring that it would be totally wrong anyway, but needing to ask. After all, it was an investigation.
“Hey, um, did you ever get any information from the new baker at Debbie's?” He made his tone light, and carefree. It was a bit leading, but the truth amulet didn't waiver at all.
“Oh, sure. He told me about lots of things. Daria Serge introduced us. Kind of ad him working for her she said? Names of girls that no one would think twice about and that. Very friendly man. Little creepy though.”
“That's true.” Karina said softly. “I offered to, you know, service him, at the shop and he never wanted too, which I figured was just because his sister was right there, but he always watched me. It was strange. That's why I didn't go to visit, even when I got lonely. There's just something off about him.”
There was a time when Tor would have blushed at hearing a woman openly talk about servicing a man like that, but then, in this case it was him that had told her to do it. Oh, he'd been teasing, but still, it was a little strange the guy hadn't taken her up on it. If not at the shop, then later. Tor would have. Box had never struck him as the shy type overly at least. The first time they'd met he'd asked “Kari” to bed, hadn't he? Tor thought about it for a second, trying to remember.
Yes, he begged her pardon for being a bit vulgar, suggesting King’s week was a good time to get laid, then asked if she was interested… So refusing her later was a little odd.
Hmmm.
Tor decided to go and check on the man a little later, still not wanting to believe that it would turn out to be anything at all. He hoped not. But… The Cartwright’s helper had said that Box had openly given her names.
Of dead girls.
Before anyone even knew the murders were going on? Yeah, that was pretty telling. Even the woman being told had found it odd, but Daria had set it all up, before she left Noram. As an agent she had to just do her job, didn't she? Her part wasn’t asking questions of her boss and the information was good.
So, in a way, that meant Box had been working with the foreign girl and knew it too.
Freaking heck.
He needed to go and pay a visit, didn't he? Tor felt like crying instead, but didn't, just getting word to Kolb that he might be needed. After all, some of his people actually kind of knew Box and Debbie. If someone had to take them in, it might as well be their friends.
The ride over was slow and had four vehicles in all, working through the streets, fighting through the crowd. Tor got it, there was no good landing places by the bakery and it was likely to be full of holiday traffic, being mid-afternoon. Tor went in first, to find a harried Debbie scrambling to run between the bakery, and then dash to the little store to the side, where she sold devices that Tor made. If he could recognize the metal plates from across the room, she was also carrying some other works now. Guide-fires and Sam-mills. Lyn had some things in too, by feel, though Tor couldn't see the devices, being round the corner.