Taking a deep breath Tor tried to explain his thoughts on the matter. If they pulled the fields now, they could reestablish a more reliable contract with someone else inside four months, or they could wait for these people to kill him, or whatever their plan had been that day, and then nothing else would be forthcoming from him ever.
A lot of people could make copies from his templates, sure. They were designed to be easy to copy. A few people could even probably make new templates based on the originals given time. All they needed was someone that could make templates and copy fields. Most of the instructors at the school could do it, probably. Master Fines could for certain, Tor was sure. The man was good. But if they wanted his original work, that took having him around, didn’t it?
Smythe didn’t look convinced.
“Your majesties, I must submit that allowing a young man, no matter how accomplished, to run around with a weapon capable of destroying cities is… past ludicrous. Even insane doesn’t quite work here. He’s going to end up turning a single failed romance into the death of thousands or more if we aren’t careful. Worse, someone has already tried to kill him several times, of course he’ll react if it happens again. It’s only natural to respond when attacked. Put that together, and try to remember what you were like at that age sire. I don’t blame Tor but… How many would be dead right now if you’d wielded that kind of power at his age? Or if I had? I dare say the population of the world would be a good bit smaller right now.”
The guy was a pompous ass, Tor decided. He’d seemed nice enough the first time they’d met, but now he was talking about him like he wasn’t even in the room. Jerk. Then again, he’d made some valid points. Was he too emotionally unstable to wield a weapon like the one he had?
Yes.
He’d almost killed god knows how many people not two hours before, just because a girl that had said he was stupid and ugly was in the room with him. Then he’d started planning out weapons that almost had to be used to kill people if they were made, just because his feelings were hurt. Was that the person he’d pick to be in charge of a super weapon? Not a chance. He didn’t want to die, but it was a lot better that he got killed than thousands of others because he couldn’t find true love.
“First, Smythe, from now on, if you’re talking about me, and I’m in the room, please make an effort to include me in the conversation, all right? It’s a little rude otherwise and while you may feel like a high and mighty head of the military, you’re still also just a person like everyone else, no matter how lowly we are.” He reached in his shirt and sorted through the cluster of amulets there, all on plain brown hemp string. After fumbling for a few seconds Tor found the explosive weapon and pulled it off.
“Second, even though you’re being more than a little rude, you’re also right, more or less, so here. You keep it. It will probably last less than a year and it’s not a template, so if you want a copy you’ll have to get someone pretty good to do the work for you. Really, no call for it. I made it in a snit when my feelings were hurt and… you’re correct, I shouldn’t be the one in control of something like that right now. Um, I recommend you don’t try and use it on anything closer than a mile away for safety, and flying at the time would be a good idea unless you’re aiming at a mountain or something. Use it in here and I’m pretty sure the palace will be gone along with most of the city, so, do be careful.”
The man let out a gust of air and so did the King, Connie just smiled and gave him a little bow. What had they thought he was going to do, blow them all up? He chuckled, realizing that’s probably what they actually had been thinking. Silly. He’d have blown himself up too and he hadn’t even finished ruining Debri for the day or anything. He told them that, a little curtly.
The King shook his head slowly. “Still on that one then? Can’t reconsider at all? It may simply be that they know something you don’t, might it not? I know you to be a pretty reasonable person Tor, as the last minutes have no doubt shown us all. Maybe you should take a step back and investigate the matter first? We can tell Debri that I’ve, temporarily, asked you to do that, in order to save face, if you feel the need? You can always destroy them later after all.”
Tor shook his head and tried not to frown at the King. Obviously the man was right. It was moronic to go after Debri House over this. Who would do something like that? He was still just so angry about it all though. It wasn’t fair.
“I’ve swallowed bitterness time and time again in this and at each turn I’m met with another twist of the knife or drink of poison. Maybe it’s time someone else took the cup for a while? I don’t think I’ve actually earned any of this yet, not most of it at least. I didn’t do anything to Trice, I made no demands, and held no real expectations, but she dumped all over me behind my back, in public. I saw it once, but how many times had it happened before and after that? Ten? A hundred? Here at the palace you guys wouldn’t even let me in, even though it meant I had to wonder the city and get a job to put a roof over my head instead, which I probably wouldn’t have had to do if Sara Debri and her family hadn’t been withholding the gold that they owed me for some reason I’ve yet to really understand. I mean, I’m bad with money? How am I supposed to get good with it if I never have any? Sure, everyone claims to have a good reason, but none of them are verifiable at all. Has anyone else noticed that yet?”
He gestured at the three before him.
“Me being turned away at the gate… twice in a row. Paperwork mix ups? Seriously? Twice? It’s really hard to believe, and I only have your word for it. I mean, you’re the freaking King! If you tell the gate guard to lie about something like that, he will and probably claim it until his death, maybe even under torture. That doesn’t mean you did lie, I get that,” Tor paced a little, making everyone follow him with their eyes.
“But, think about it, everything is like that. Trice is claiming now that she had some plan to undermine me and tell everyone how awful I was to draw out the people that want to hurt me, but… notice, she didn’t come to me first with that plan, only nearly a week later, after she had a lot of time to think about it and make excuses. Like you had. Debri… They’ve had months. No, I have to make them see that they can’t push me around. Trice at least taught me that. It’s even fair really, they haven’t been paying me and withheld money on purpose already, no one does business with people like that, do they? If that makes thing hard for others for a little while, well, I’m sorry about that. I’ll try to make sure things get up and running as fast as possible, even if I have to do the work myself full time until things are going as far as the new manufacturing, but…”
Smythe turned towards him, having slipped on cream colored gloves that had bits of metal all over the palms, in an almost elegant fashion. It was kind of pretty, in a strange way.
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough.” The man said, stepping forward with a blank stare on his face. “Not good enough at all.”
Chapter ten
Smythe’s plan, once Tor figured it out, was actually pretty clever. The gloves he’d just put on passed something through the shield he wore that made his skin burn where the hands were directed. He had to squirm away from the pain. It would have been all right, except for the other eight men, all clad in black, dull colored clothes that looked like heavy canvas, kind of like what the special students at the school wore for some of their exercises. They just stepped out of panels in the walls of all things. Not all of them had the pain gloves, but two did. It was enough to leave him trapped in a triangle of agony. They could hurt him, or rather, make him burn, but they didn’t have a way through the shield itself physically. Small favor, since those gloves really hurt.