He had a momentary vision of both of them dressed in armor made of wood shingles holding broad children’s play swords running around for weeks trying to slay an invisible dragon.
After half an hour the woman stood and left without saying goodbye. No one commented on it at all. The King just smiled at her back, seeming relieved and happy enough.
“Last one coming…”
Two chairs were put out and the Morgans were lead into the room, by one of the Royal Guard, an older fellow that looked to be important, if the extra bit of gold on his collar meant anything. Both wore somber clothing in dark colors. Death colors. They walked in with heads high, until they saw Tor sitting there. He tried not to look away or glare, but really, he didn’t know what to do with himself either. He felt ambushed and glanced at the Queen next to him, then over at the King and finally Rolph, who at least looked a bit shocked too. That part was nice. At least his stupid looking facial expression had his friends company.
The Prince sat up very straight and pointed at them rudely.
“What are they doing here? After what Trice did…” He looked at them angrily. “After what she said about Tor, you two are just lucky that he’s agreed not to kill you. For now. I had to beg a promise from him for that much! I’d have thought you’d be hiding away somewhere hoping you weren’t found. He may not be “noble” enough for your daughter, but you should just thank all gods that he’s not! Anyone else, and I mean anyone, would have attacked already and not given you a reprieve.”
They both sat without responding at first, finally Mercy looked at the Queen and spoke softly.
“Um. Well, this is delicate then isn’t it? We… didn’t know that Tor would be here still. We’ve tried to talk to Patricia, but she won’t answer our letters, or at least hasn’t yet. We don’t really know what’s going on, just that the wedding is off and that Tor’s demanding all the devices he gave us back? Is that right? And Alphonse is obviously upset, but… What’s going on? I’d thought we left on, if not good terms, then at least as good as possible. Did you two have a fight?” She looked at Tor with concern in her eyes.
Tor wondered if they really didn’t know or if this was just one of those complicated ruses that the nobles liked to pull off to make each other look stupid. It could be, he knew. One of the things that Trice had pointed out was that he wasn’t very bright after all.
Grimly Rolph recounted the whole event in the restaurant and how he’d had to beg Tor not to destroy half the kingdom, which was still tenuous, as Tor had a super-weapon that could do just that. Tor almost laughed about it, not because it wasn’t true, but because he literally had it on his person. Hanging on a little cord around his neck. The Morgans went white as sheets. Not, Tor noticed, at the implied threat Rolph had delivered, but before that, when they heard the words that had been spoken about him.
“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like her… perhaps someone misconstrued or reported the words of someone else?” Mercy began. Rolph held up his right hand and stopped her.
“Heard it myself. Hard to ignore actually, since she was kind of yelling it to the whole room. It wasn’t even in private, so that dignity could be preserved. It wasn’t even during a fight, so that we could blame anger or lack of caution. Nor was she too far gone into drink for sensibility. She knew where she was, and what she was saying. The people around her even argued against her, not knowing we were there to hear them, but she persisted anyway. She wasn’t being led by her fellows into this… If Doretta had been half as vile Wylde would have killed her in the street.” The last bit came out as a low growl.
Tor wanted to leave. Why did he have to deal with these people? He hadn’t wronged them, had he? For all he knew they had him poisoned on their daughters behalf. She even said to a room of strangers that he was too nice and trusting, too easily taken in.
What did they want from him?
It took a long time for them to get to that. What they wanted, it turned out, was to not have to give the stuff back. Richard let out a huff of air that sounded half like a growl himself, matching the tone of the room perfectly.
“Really? In all this, the most important thing you can come up with to bring to our attention is that? Gold? You have gold! I thought better of you both. I’m very disappointed in you.”
They both hung their heads briefly, but Eric rallied first.
“It’s not gold, not just that… anyway, we’ve formed hundreds of contracts with people for goods shipments, most of them perishables, if we don’t do it, then a lot of people that have been waiting for our rapid transportation are going to be stuck, many of them losing a lot because they’d gambled on our ability to get things across the kingdom for them. We dealt in good faith, but now… I can see the reasoning, I even agree, but it isn’t fair to these others.”
The discussion drifted away from him directly for a bit at least. It was both an easy and hard situation.
“So let me get this straight,” Tor finally put in, anger creeping in to his voice even as he tried to hide it from everyone. It made him sound cold and mean anyway. “I either help you make a bunch of gold, or loads of people that haven’t done anything to me at all suffer because I’m being petty? On one hand I can easily fix this by just letting you go ahead, but on the other, if I do, I’m weak and spineless? I just want to make sure I have this all right. After all, it’s you two, and your own daughter, that are setting these conditions.”
What the hell was he supposed to do? He was being petty, even in his anger he could see that, but if he didn’t do it, he’d look weak. To her. Then again, should he even care what she thought about him at all? Tor knew the answer to that without even thinking. He’d though she was his friend and all the while she’d just been using him. She didn’t deserve to have any of his thoughts or concern at all. If he was too nice, or too stupid or even too ugly, well, that was just what he was.
“You know. I hate to mention this, but there’s a really good chance, given what she was saying about me and where the juice came from, that Trice was the one that poisoned me.” Tor didn’t let anyone else speak, waving them to quiet with his right hand first.
“She knows how to do it, she’s mentioned that more than once in fact. More, she could easily have gotten access to the barrel at any point in the process and stated, after the fact, that she hates me and wished I’d died. I knew that we weren’t really going to get married the whole time, I’m not that dumb. Really, I can’t see why you people keep thinking I am. Kind isn’t really the same thing, you know. But I’d thought that we were friends enough that she’d just tell me when the thing was up and we’d keep being friends after that. I don’t know why she’d want me dead, even if I disgust her. Even if she didn’t want to be my friend… It’s hard for me to believe even now, but…”
Tor’s mind made the connections rapidly then.
“God. She’s even the same height as Wensa, and knew that I didn’t wear the shield turned on all the time back then, especially after meals, when I was kicked down the stairs. I know that she has the skill physically, and she even knows when I go to dinner. Crap…” Tears stung his eyes as he spoke.
“She’s had enough access to our room to know how to get in too. The food just showed up on my bed. So whoever did it knew which bed was mine too. Not that hard to do, since Rolph’s bed is special, way nicer than mine, but still, it’s a lot of little stuff adding up…”
Everyone stared at him.
“No…” Eric said, standing up suddenly.
Next him Mercy stood as well. “It can’t be. There simply has to be another explanation. I…”
Looking confused they both stormed out quickly, as if fearing that to stay meant arrest or death. Or possibly that they’d have to face the facts, which might be even scarier for them. Had it really been her? Tor tried to line everything up, it wasn’t, he could see, proof of anything, but a lot of things fell in line really nicely. Or it did now that he knew that she’d hated him the whole time. Even that gods awful fake crying of hers. Who cries like that?