He nearly explained that they were mainly filled with devices and gold to help set up businesses and relief efforts, but didn't. His actual gear, what he needed to survive, including housing, was on him. He'd miss the little bag with his razor, soap and tooth care stuff, but if he pulled that out, he could wear it discreetly on his side, next to the communications device. Smythe could smirk all day, but it didn't change the reality. Tor was more ready to pick up and move, even lose everything, than he'd ever been before. If someone stole his trunks now, or even stripped him of amulets, it would mildly inconvenience him, but that was all.
When the side hatch opened Tor had to blink. It wasn't a military man at all, but a military woman that stepped out. She still had short blond hair and smiled at him winningly, bounding down the ramp fast enough that the guards all went for their weapons. She stopped in front of him and tried to give him and awkward shield hug. Then she straightened and looked at Smythe, her boss. It was a bit blank, but polite enough, as if asking for an introduction.
Ah.
Tor realized they probably hadn't exactly met before. That made sense really. Sara was a spy and low level military member as part of her cover, if Tor had it right, so no-one that the head of the military would know on sight.
“Oh… Um, Sara, this is Smythe of Westend, head military Counselor and all around swell guy. Decent fighter too. Willie, this is my, um, friend, Sara Debri. Her mom heads the Debri merchant house. She's a sergeant in the army, runs supplies by air. Personal flying though, I didn't know she flew transports yet…”
It turned out she didn't, which they noticed when the driver crawled out from the front, dressed in a tan shirt made of silk and soft canvas pants in a similar color. Sorlee. It made more sense than her normal drab gray dresses he'd grown used to seeing her in. For one thing it looked kind of official and less like she'd just stolen the craft.
Great, another spy. At least he knew who they were this time. The Royal Guards, well that was so obvious they didn't really count as spies. They reported to the King. If they needed to strip him, turn him upside down and shake to get information out, they'd do it and not bother hiding the fact most of the time. The only one here he wasn't sure about was Smythe, but that didn't matter did it?
Assassins had their own category in his mind. Before anything else, Tor crawled in and checked out the interior, looking for traps, attackers or anything that might be troublesome. He didn't find anything, but suggested the more proficient guards check it too. He watched what they did, checking under each cushion physically, getting on hands and knees to look under each bench, tapping the walls to check for hallows or odd sounds. When they were done and piled out, Tor slapped an amulet to the inside wall, explaining to the guy in charge, the same older man he'd met earlier, who said his name was George and didn't give a rank, what he was doing. It went up with just a bit of tacky putty on the back, since it would take that or glue to do the trick on smooth focus stone.
Then he hit the sigil, getting a soft gasp from the people outside.
“Master Tor, it's so pretty! It looks like one of the grand carriages of the King. The woods all grand and shiny too. Did you change it into wood? Is that strong enough?” Sorlee had enough sense to be concerned about practical matters at least.
“It's still focus stone, the shield on the outside just reflects light to look like this now. Obviously,” he added for George and his guards-people, two of which were hard looking women that could probably tear him in half with a strong exhalation.
“We can fly with it in normal mode and decorate just before landing, so we won't be advertising who we are the whole time. That probably wouldn't be a problem, since no one has seen this before, but just in case, no need to tempt anyone.”
Tor hit the sigil so that everyone would know how to do it. Pretty basic really. He left the little tan focus stone square on the wall of the craft, since they'd want it later.
In the back the Royal Guards all sat together, and Sara settled right beside him, smiling and happy to see him, or so it seemed. Sorlee waited for everyone to be seated, closed the heavy counter weighted side door that they'd all used as a ramp and then flew off a good bit faster than she'd landed, headed nearly due east.
Tor did a quick inventory of what he had on, device wise, knowing that he clanked a little when he shifted and his shirt bulged in the front. Both hands had devices held in place by leather thongs too, for flight and Not-flyer controls. Shield, of course. Then without speaking to Sara at all, he closed his eyes and dropped into a working state briefly. Not to be mean or even work on some project or another, but so he could examine how her arms worked when she moved.
The field portion of the movements. She wasn't helpful, holding remarkably still for some unknown reason. So eyes still closed he poked at her arm. She'd taken her shield off and so had he, which made her think he was trying to hold her hand apparently. It worked well enough. When they touched he could understand what her brain was doing to process sensory information from her left hand. He stroked it gently, and caught a sense of warm friendliness from the girl. Then, reaching over with his other hand he pinched her lightly. She didn't say anything but stiffened and felt slightly annoyed and bemused at the same time.
After an hour or so of this he opened his eyes and let go of her hand.
“Anyone hungry yet? I have some food, fresh from Debbie's bakery.” Moving to the back he pulled out the small box and offered it to the Royal Guards first, all of whom checked the rolls and pastries with poison detectors. All the food, each of them making certain it was all good, even when the person next to them had just done the same thing. The old fashioned devices he'd made about a year before, small copper rectangles still held solid fields. Then he passed the box to Smythe, who took a peach hand pie and nodded to him, but didn't check it for poison. Probably because he'd been stripped of all devices to keep him from killing Tor. Tor pulled his own, a glowing sigil on natural stone from the beaches of Printer and tested the food for the man. It was clean, so the older man started to eat.
But he gave Tor an incredibly funny look first. As if saying that if anyone in the world were going to try and poison him, he knew who to watch. It was ridiculous of course. Tor didn't know anything about such things at all. Like he’d do that anyway? It seemed really rude, even if the guy did keep making attempts on his life.
Sara took a small roll for herself and Sorlee, happy to be remembered, asked him to feed her bites of hand pie, a savory beef one, because she didn't care for sweets in the morning.
“You know, if we were back in Forest Far, this would mean we were married now.” The girl said it seriously, like she meant it.
Tor almost blushed, but shook his head instead.
“That's not the tradition there. By tradition if I fed you like this, your brothers and father would beat me and try to drive me from the village… If I didn't marry you instantly that is. The same as in Two Bends.” It was true enough, but the girl kept flying and gave him a knowing look.
“I know that, but then after whoring for all these months, I'm pretty much dead to them anyway. I can make up my own traditions now.” Her voice was a bit sharp sounding, but also held something else he didn't quite know how to explain to himself.
Focusing on her field for a moment Tor tried to pick up what she was thinking, it wasn't hard.
The girl was covering for her slip and wondering how long she could keep her game up. She was starting to do it with others, but no one had noticed yet. If she suddenly spoke too well, that could be played off as practice, couldn't it? So far it had worked. The only real danger was Tor. He was sweet, but that was a bigger danger to her than not. Her teasing and flirting deflections would only last so long. Plus she wasn't certain what he knew already.