“That's odd. Any guesses who Karina's going after?”
Nodding Varley glanced at Kolb, “Countier David Derring. I've seen them together a few times. It's a good match, at least on paper. Within the three steps, he's good looking and so is she. He won't inherit, but god willing, neither will Karina. They know some of the same people and all that, plus, I know for a fact they slept together already.” She made a face.
“Normally not a huge deal, Karina wanting to marry someone else like that, but Count Peterson is important. His family is so intertwined with the military that going against him is sure to cause an armed rebellion. Oh, I meant to ask earlier Holly, if that happens, can we count on your support? Between you and Thorgood, that would almost match the King’s army in advanced fighters… There's a chance that Peterson may not accept me as a substitute for my sister. He likes red hair and mines this odd brown color…”
Tor snorted.
“Well, I can't control your marriages or engagements, but if he tries to go to war with the kingdom over something that silly, I'll get Rolph and my brothers and we'll go tell him off for you. You’re one of the best looking women in the kingdom though, so I doubt he’d complain.” Seriously Tor shook his fist a little in the air to show he meant business. Oddly no one laughed, even if he did mean it as a joke.
Kolb glanced at him and nodded, which got Petra to do something similar.
“That would about do it, I think.” The large bald man said.
“If Tor and Alphonse both went, Peterson would have to listen, wouldn't he? I don't know if your brothers would add much, but I could be wrong on that. Peterson is a good man, but he does tend to favor powerful warriors and royalty as advisors… Maybe you and the Prince should visit with him soon? Smooth things over. After all, if he's going to steal your fiancee the least he could do is be gracious about it.”
This got a chuckle from everyone but Tor, who sighed. It looked like yet another engagement was going to fade on him. Oh well. If it did, he decided, he was going to start sleeping with a bunch of women, even if he had to hire them. This country idea of saving himself for marriage was getting old, and most likely making a laughing stock of him with the nobles, who all had more relationships than they did fingers. The idea made him blush furiously, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do it.
For now though, work.
“I need… Um, Petra I think. Trice too, having lately been down in Warden. Varley, you're probably needed back in the Capital and honestly, even if the Wards are totally genuine in their sentiments, I'm not taking one of the Noram royal family to people that were at war with us less than two weeks ago. Too tempting, plus… Marvin wants to sleep with you said? Not that I can blame him, but you already sent a go between to put him off for now, right? So it might be a little confusing if you turn up on his doorstep. Kind of an implied offer if you did, after being asked.” Bad enough Tor had to take Trice, since she'd probably been sleeping with the guy herself. It made sense, he was good looking. Incredibly so. If Tor was a girl he probably would have considered it already himself too.
That left Kolb, Holly and her guards to protect the Princess on the way home, but it wouldn't be an instant thing. First Tor had a lot of work to do and wanted to rearm himself and his friends. Also, really, if he was going to fly off, possibly forever, with the clothes and gear Ethyl and Clark had given him, Tor wanted to leave them with enough things to keep them going for a while and to make their trust in him worth having given.
After the pie was eaten and plans made Trice and Petra walked with him to the store, so that he could deliver the shields for the merchants, knowing the old woman had to be feeling a little exposed after her trauma, being robbed like she had.
That was something he'd felt himself after attacks and it helped to know that people couldn't easily do it again. With a good shield, well, she could be robbed maybe, but no one would be hurting her, unless Smythe of Westend decided to come after her or something. Things could always be replaced if it came to that, goods or gold. It was the people that needed protecting.
The shop was busy when they walked in. Too busy it seemed to him, but Ethyl and Clark both smiled as they demonstrated how various things worked to the twenty or so well dressed adults and nearly as many kids, most of them looking a little shabby, if only by comparison to the well dressed grownups.
Money changed hands quickly, golds, silvers and a few coppers at times. Ethyl nodded, but didn't announce him to the room, thankfully. It was all he could do to not hit own shield and that mainly because it was already on. He simply handed her the amulet with its slight inner glow of blue and brighter glowing sigil in the same color, a dot inside a circle, and explained in a whisper what it was. She put it on instantly and relaxed, her face going from tight and pinched to calm almost instantly. Clark's face didn't change, except for the fact that his smile had gotten bigger when the saw the look on his wife's face.
No one paid much attention to him, most of the people that looked at all stopped on Petra who was the biggest person in the room, and pretty, as well as stylishly dressed in an off pink material from Afrak that she'd fashioned herself into an interesting looking dress that exposed her left shoulder. The rest looked at Trice, eyes lingering on the stub of her arm a little. She pretended not to notice them noticing her, flouncing her blond hair slightly. It was an odd fuzz, not the dark set of curls it naturally was, since he'd told her to change it after he made her stab him about a month or two back. Over two months now? Three? So much had happened it was hard to keep track. He wasn't even totally sure it was still spring to tell the truth, it could be early summer, the idea that he didn't know even that made him wince. Who didn't know what season it was?
Not being watched meant that Tor could look around, and actually see who was there. Most of the people looked like merchants, except the kids, who were probably locals, well, they were all from the area, but the kids probably lived within a short walk. One of the boys looked around covertly, a little obviously for a professional thief really, and slipped an amulet, a room light, into his pocket. Clark had seen him do it too, and descended on the boy instantly.
“Damn-it Swarley! This isn't some ten for a penny sweet! This is worth hundreds of golds. I'll have to report it to the guard…” Tor saw the man look at him guiltily, as if wanting to not do that at all, but he didn't get a chance to simply scold the boy, or even talk to Tor about what to do because a black clad man with a velvet cape and a black hat with a large green feather in it grabbed the boy on the other side.
“Got you! Thief! Thief!” That got the attention of the room fast. Most of them were merchants, and apparently, as Tor should have suspected, when he stopped to think about it, they didn't like thieves much at all.
Chapter seven
The name, face, and apparently sticky fingers, of Swarley Jones were well known in the area. He tried to break free and run when the guard came, getting a clout to the side of the head for his trouble from the velvet clad merchant who really didn't want him to get away. Almost as if it were personal. The guard, a man of about eighteen was one of the young men that had given them directions a few days before. He shook the boys arm roughly.
“Swarley! How many times… What did he grab this time, a pair of shoes or tub of toothpaste?” the guard glared at the boy menacingly.
Clark answered, subdued and as if he were ashamed of something.
“No Kyle… It's, well… a bit more serious than that this time, I'm afraid.” He honestly sounded worried too.
The story unfolded quickly, and most of the people around him knew it already. Swarley Jones was a local boy who's father died at sea in a squall, which Tor learned meant a sudden storm, and who's mother hadn't lasted a year past that. Dying of grief they said. Swarley allowed that the constant drinking hadn't helped either.