Tor went cold though. He had to fight?
Sure, he was a Knight, and if it came to it, fighting to save lives, and protect the land was his duty, even if it meant he had to die to do it. He could accept that, but just to make this rather stupid man feel a little better about himself? It was insane. For one thing, if he did fight, he'd do it with the best weapons he could find.
Since he had access to those, even on his person, that would be better wouldn't it? Rochester might have a hidden card, that kind of made sense even, some trick or magic to kill him if they fought, but using magical weapons made more sense to him. He might survive that.
“Could I… Challenge him to a duel to the death instead?”
Kolb shrugged, “You could, but this one comes first. If he doesn't withdraw it, then you have to fight him anyway, and if you die, the second challenge won't have a lot of meaning.”
Right.
Well, that sucked. Tor was just kind of doomed wasn't he?
Crap.
“Well… then I'll just see what I can come up with and try to get him to set the date as far off as possible…”
There was a soft groan from the Princess, “Postern. He set it for here, on Postern morning. No one really got all of it last night. Tor…” She sounded like there were tears in her eyes. He was looking out the clear shield that made up the front of the vehicle.
“OK. Well, I've beaten him before. I'll just have to be smarter about it this time. I doubt I could survive a full combat rage either. I… Have an idea. Don't tell anyone though.” Then without waiting Tor took them back to their spots, the school then the Capital. He didn't get out and go in when he set Karina down, letting her walk in while smiling at her confidently.
On the way back to his house he hyperventilated.
He was going to die.
Worse, he was going to do it ignobly, if front of everyone in the world that he knew. Whee. When he walked into his house there was a well dressed and liveried man standing inside. Not the King’s livery, some other royal. It turned out to be Countess York's messenger, who had the duty of handing over and witnessing receipt of the challenge. He looked grim enough at least, instead of smiling and laughing. So Tor did it for him.
“Hmmm, angry that I had to administer a bit of a beating, and now he thinks to come for more of the same? Probably heard I was under the weather and thinks to capitalize on that. Brilliant of him.” Tor chuckled, making it sound as happy as he could. “Tell me, will he be leaving a widow? I have several brothers that are looking for nice wives. It wouldn't do to leave her or any children uncared for.” It was a serious question, said earnestly enough that the man actually answered.
“Yes Lord Baker. The Lady Priscilla Clark Rochester recently married him, not a year past. His first wife died tragically, falling down some steps. Four of them I believe.”
Meaning it was suspicious as could be imagined and the jerk had probably killed her. Tor nodded, eyes half closing as he did.
“Oh? I recognize that name…” He really did. Lady Priscilla… It came back to him in a rush. “Oh! Right, I remember, she was being attacked by a man in full combat rage. He and I fought then, when I came to her aid. We managed to do that without anyone being harmed. Just one of those things. Duke Winchester. He was a good man, that incident aside. He later died saving my life from a Larval assassin, while I stopped a death dust attack.” Tor realized he was rambling.
“Ah, sorry, say, would you like something to eat, or a ride back to your county?”
He actually said yes to both and didn't seem displeased that Trice was going to be taking him at all. Since they were cousins and all.
Tor hadn't realized that the messenger was the Countesses’ third son. Nice of her to send someone so high ranking for the task. He was nearly his own father’s age, Tor guessed, but seemed polite and well spoken.
“I shall relay your words to the proper places.” He bowed on the way out, walking backwards to do it.
Really nice seeming guy. Tor called up his mother, Countess York, and made sure she knew they had space for him, and the rest of her family too. Why not? Even if Tor was dead, the holiday would continue. No need to leave anyone out just over that.
Then, locking himself in his bedroom alone, Tor pushed himself into a deep and focused trance state. As hard as he could, focusing on what essentially made up his own being. If he did it enough, it should help him build up faster. Maybe. He didn't know if it would be even half enough. Or even a big enough percentage to count. But it was what he had, so he did it. He drove deep into himself, focusing not on building anything, but fostering a sense of growth. Of strength and power, weaving it into his own being. Making it a part of himself.
From then on, he tried to spend six hours a day rebuilding his own pattern, and two in exercise. Which was kind of pitiful, just being walking and working with tiny weights, never over thirty pounds, usually not even that. Less than half of his best for some of the exercises. The rest of the day he worked on the festival and helping get things ready. No one talked to him about what was going to happen, not at first. Three days away from the event itself, he was summoned to the palace.
By the Queen.
She was… not pleased with the current plan at all. She said that so clearly Tor kind of winced.
“Which makes two of us, but so far I haven't found a loop hole or way out. If it was just my honor at stake, or even if it wouldn't effect things to make the King look bad, I'd walk away from this, laughing. It's worse than stupid. Instead I'm getting myself ready. On the good side I shouldn't just die if I take a blow or two now.” It had a carefree tone when he said it, but it was about the honest truth. A sharp fall wouldn't kill him now, but repeated blows just might. Even ten or twelve. He wouldn't survive a fight with Veren the Royal Guard for instance. Then, that had never really been the case, not if the man wanted him dead, so it wasn't that big of an issue really. Not for his ego at least.
And he was far too slow to get himself out of the way easily. Then, if he did hit, his tired and exhausted frame just couldn't deliver the needed power. Hitting the man over and over again with a pillow would be about as effective. More maybe, since at least that would be a weapon. To survive he needed to discover something, some kind of trick or something to make it all work.
There was silence in the room for a while, almost a coldness coming from the Queen, who looked a little worn down for some reason. Hopefully not him, Tor thought, since that shouldn't be something to bother with. After several minutes of silence she stood and walked to him, wrapping him gently in her arms.
“I won't let him hurt you. We'll declare you under the Queen’s protection and that will be that. Either he takes back his challenge or I'll have him executed.” Low and deadly she seemed about to go on, when a voice behind her interrupted.
“And cause every count and Duke in the kingdom to doubt our ability to defend ourselves. There's a very real reason why no Knight challenged as such backs down dear. We pick the best only, those willing to die for the people of this land, able to stand no matter what. If we protect Tor from a man he's easily handled before it will show a lack of faith in our own people and our own trust in him.” The King didn't boom, being normal speaking tone. It wasn't hidden though, spies in the walls or not.
Meaning he wanted people to hear him.
“That said dear, a hard challenge right now or not, I don't think it would do to undersell Tor. We've seen him take on things no one else could have survived and frankly, Baron Rochester isn't in his league at all as a fighter, which the man knows. That he tries to strike at a time of infirmity confirms that. The man fears Tor, it's clear. Even now I'd hazard. It has to have occurred to him that Tor both crippled him and created the device that healed him as well. Even a moron would have to understand the kind of power that represents.”