Slave Line (The Young Ancients) (13 page)

It hit him then that maybe he was being selfish. She kept trying to let him out of the marriage, or get herself out of the way, but what if that was just her way of trying to get away from him? Tor didn't think he was all that bad of a person, but in the last days he'd gotten two people killed, executed one and flat out murdered another in public with thousands of people watching. Then earlier he'd attacked the King's brother in a way that should have gotten him thrown in a dungeon somewhere and a short time later punched his best friend. His shield anyway, but the intent had been real enough.

That didn't sound like a nice, healthy person to be around.

Maybe she was just scared of him and wanted to run away? Here he was trying to reassure her it was all fine and that she was loved, and she may well be doing everything she could to save herself. From him. It wasn't reasonable, but it fit the pattern of her life, didn't it? To her he was just some powerful man with connections. Like her father. He'd been a monster before he'd died, a true one that had almost given up on any claim to humanity, but that didn't mean she wouldn't see Tor in a similar light, given everything. The easiest thing to do would have been to ask her questions and read her field for information, but that wasn't something you did with your wife. It would be rude for one thing.

That meant they really needed to talk and to do it in a way that she'd feel comfortable leaving him if that was what she wanted. In his mind marriage was simply a thing you did, and once done nothing but death would change it. The noble world made provision for annulment and divorce at times though. He didn't know those rules, but if that was what she needed, he could research the concept.

The idea was both a sad one, since he liked her a lot, and oddly a relief. There was a lot of stress in his life because of her, wasn't there? Not more than he could handle, but it was hard at the moment. The fact was, even though he was fond of her, he didn't love Ali. Tor never had. He wanted to though, didn't he? Didn't that count for something? If it did though, was that enough to make it worth being attached to him?

She squeezed his hand and smiled in a way that looked content to him. She nearly floated in her dress of white, her shoulders just above his own now. She was going to be a lot taller than he was, when she finished growing. Not that it would be hard to do, since he was maybe five-four. Five-five if he wore boots.

Maybe they were just too different to make things really work in the long run?

He hoped not. That was the final part of the whole thing for him, bad mood or not. They were married and he wanted to keep her if he could. Not enough to enslave her to a partnership she couldn't stand anymore, but if she could, he didn't want her to go away. That meant that he needed to do something about how he'd been treating her, didn't it? Romance had never been his strong suit though. In fact it was almost an unknown to him all the way around. The only thing he could think of was getting his wife some flowers and possibly some other gifts.

There had to be more to it than that, didn't there? Writing poems or songs for her, taking her places she'd never been, just because she wanted to go. Spending actual time with her instead of just visiting for an hour a day or so as if she were a burden or a pet he was forced to take care of by necessity.

How he was supposed to manage all of that he had no clue. The first thing he thought of, building his way out of it with magic, wouldn't work at all. Or rather, it might have if he could have spared the time and energy for it, without dying from the workload. That wasn't happening though, which meant he had to come up with some other way to do it. Maybe if he got her something that...

No.

Not bought. What if he made her something? Not magic, but something real, to show he cared? He could start with those flowers he kept thinking about, the ones he'd never gotten her. It would take some doing, but he'd done a flower arrangement before, once, so he knew the basic rules of such things. It would take some planning to pull off while traveling, but if he did it carefully, it might work. It wasn't enough of course, but it was a start. Hopefully he'd be able to win her over before she got so fed up with him she gave up.

It annoyed him that he had to do all that, but Tor ignored the feeling. That, why ever it was there with him, wasn't her fault. She was perfect for her own world and if he couldn't see that all the time, it was his problem to fix.

Just like the meeting he was about to go to was.

A problem to be fixed before it turned into a major disaster.

Chapter four

They were meeting in the large dining room, since Tor hadn't bothered to explain that anything else should be done. That was a trouble with secret meetings, wasn't it? This one was probably only half-secret too, since they wouldn't be plotting death or total ruin. At least Tor wasn't planning that yet.

It wasn't a problem, being in the nicely decorated and long space with its cream colored walls that looked like silk and the bold black wood table that could sit about a hundred people without bumping elbows. It did however mean that all the Austrans were at the meal as well, and most of them seemed more than a little nervous about the idea. It was odd since they hadn't seemed as uneasy to Tor at breakfast... Though now that he thought about it for a minute, it was clear they had been and that he simply hadn't gotten it for some reason. No one had ever been poisoned at his table though and he wasn't going to start that day.

For a few seconds the idea that they thought otherwise started to boil up inside of him, a churning that would have turned to anger if even one more thing had happened. One more bad thing. Instead something good took place, which was Glaren being led to the table and given a seat next to Alphonse at his right hand side. It was his table so he was at the top and Ali was next to him, with Collette giving her normal place away to Tor's mother. Or normal for a meal where he was at the table with everyone else at least, which wasn't all that often. Things came up.

The only hard part of the whole thing was that technically someone had to be put at the far end of the table, in what was popularly called "the poison seat". It was referred to that way because the tradition went that the person doing the death dealing would want the nasty business as far from themselves as possible. Hence putting anyone in disfavor well away from them. Really it was mostly an implied threat, more than anything else. A way of telling a person that the host really wasn't all that happy with them personally.

Only Tor wasn't angry at anyone in particular. Not enough to threaten their lives. He'd have taken the place himself to save on worry, but that would just shift the dynamics and make the bottom of the table the top. In the end he decided to tuck Quavel down there, but provide him with a poison detector. It was, he hoped, a sign that he didn't want the man to die, but also a signal that he wasn't any too pleased with the fellow. Bad enough he'd been a spy, but he'd been with Connie, the Queen of the whole realm, for over ten years, touching her over and over again, with access to her food, her rooms, the make-up she had applied to her skin, the salts that went into her bath... A position of trust that he'd ultimately been undeserving of. If anyone had to worry a bit, Tor felt best about it being him.

They put little Erin by Weasel, half way down the table, since they were about the same age, and most the rest of the Austrans further down. It wasn't a statement about anyone, but someone had to sit there, didn't they? The whole thing was confusing to him. Not really the placement, but the complex rules that made things like where you sat important. If those weren't so rigid, then no one would have to feel slighted if they were in the last place or halfway down the expanse.

He certainly didn't feel better than anyone just because he was at the top. Really he felt kind of exposed and watched.

That just meant he had to be careful to take the first sip at the right time, after everyone else was served, so they could take their bit of food or sip one by one as their turn came. It worked pretty well at his end of the table, and even the girl next to his brother got her timing pretty close, taking the first sip of juice when she was supposed to. After that it kind of fell apart since a lot of the spies didn't know the formal dining rules. That made sense. After all, when had the cartwrights helper been using that information? Or the man that worked on the river crews?

Then, as if trying to add comedy to the whole thing Quavel jumped up and checked everyone's food with the poison detector Tor had provided him. It took ten times as long, but Tor didn't mention it, just waiting to really start eating. They were still on the opening wine though and it had taken a long time. If they had to do that again, it would throw the whole night off. Especially with each course needing to be done that way.

Signaling covertly Tor got one of the servers, the same older royal guard from earlier in the day, to come over. He moved smartly, as if it was his actual job all the time, not something he was just doing as an excuse to be in the room without actually being a prison guard. It was a pretense, but one that Tor would have appreciate if it were him in the Austrans position.

"In my room, just inside the door to the left there are six or seven chests. In one of them, the second one away from the door I think, on the bottom, are a bunch of detectors, like this one." He held up his own for the man to see. It was on glass like focus stone with a star like sigil glowing on it in a tasteful cream color.

"Would it be possible for you to get one of those for everyone here please? I think it might speed things up."

There was an efficient nod and a heal click and the man spun hurried away from the room fast enough that everyone watched him leave, some of them nervously. Before the next course came, the opening salad, he was back and had the other people on his team deliver one of the devices with each plate, almost as if it were simply part of the meal plan. True, some of the people already had one, but it meant no one got left out. Glaren for instance didn't have her own.

That was a mistake he realized, since he wanted her to be able to check all food going in to, or out of, her kitchen. For that matter, the entire staff should have them. Including the Royal guardsmen and women.

That was a thing for later though, for the moment he reached over and took his wife's hand under the table, which felt about room temperature, thanks to his devices. She didn't let go for a long second, which was nice. Trice winked at him from down the way, seeing what he was doing, but no one seemed to think anything of it in particular.

The rest of the meal went smoothly enough, with a lot of small talk being made, most of it about the trip coming up. It was genial enough in tone, most of the people decently excited about going home. After all, they were given up by their government, so it wasn't a screw up on any of their parts, meaning they were all due full wages for their efforts. The Austrans were a lot of things, including not overly concerned about their people all the time. They paid what they owed though. Even the government. If they made a deal with you, they delivered on it exactly as stated, no more, no less. Every time.

"Where will we live mommy?" Erin, the little girl, spoke softly, her voice not sounding very happy about the whole idea of going to this enemy land.

Her parents didn't respond right away, just shushing her instead. The girl didn't keep insisting that they explain, catching that it might not be the best time for such questions perhaps. Tor wanted to add something, but didn't really know what they had arranged, if anything. It wouldn't be a Noram style house though, he'd be willing to bet. Austran housing was efficient, close together and crowded. A lot of times it was smaller than what people should have. It wouldn't be sleeping outside or a wood shack in the desert though either. He hoped not at least.

The dessert was a cake that had some wonderfully ripe and juicy berries on top, an assortment of them and a light frosting spread under them to keep the cake, a white one with a lot of sugar, from absorbing all the juices. It was decent. Well made and fresh, probably assembles no more than minutes before being served. It was chilled, which was pleasant enough. It wasn't really that hot outside yet and the room was kept comfortable all the time, so the instant of coolness lingered in his mouth for a moment with each bite.

That made him remember the Ambassador...

Who'd been sweating up a storm in a room that should have been no more than just comfortable. Then, maybe the woman was just delicate? Different people had different needs and all that. She was possibly ill too, which he needed to watch for if it was the case. He didn't want her to fall during the mission after all.

Just as the last person finished eating Tor realized he didn't have a good exit strategy. At the palace if one or two people were leaving for a meeting, they could "withdraw" for it, and everyone just knew what that meant, but he was taking a third of the room. It would be awkward to just tell his other guests to go away, wouldn't it?

Besides, they had some work to do together too, didn't they? No time like the moment for it either. Literally, since they were leaving the next day.

"Um, well, I have a meeting here with some of you to get to, but first, Quavel, since you're sort of in charge of this... mission for your people, going home I mean, perhaps you could help me out?"

"Sir?" The voice was formal and so polite Tor wondered if he'd taken the man off his guard.

"I'm not certain I understand..."

Ah, right. Tor was probably being obscure then. He waved his right hand and tried for a smile he didn't feel.

"You're my guests and it's my responsibility to see to your comfort and safety. I was charged with this directly by your Ancient, Denorian Brown and King Richard. You've all met Brown? Anyway, he asked that I see to all that for you personally and the King agreed to it just as personally, but it was pointed out to me earlier by Prince Alphonse that you might have concerns about your safety on this trip. So, what would you like to see done, in order to help make everyone feel secure? I can try to provide anything you need. It's a little short notice for performers, but I was planning on enlisting the Ancients for that. They have to know some good stories if nothing else. That plus some card games is about what I can come up with, but that doesn't mean you'd feel secure, does it? So, any ideas?" He didn't figure they'd mention much, but they all seemed to have something to say.

Some of it not half bad, once they mentioned it. One of the men, a man in his fifties that looked thin, but slightly soft, like a cleric of some sort, pushed his wire rimmed glasses up his nose. He was wearing his Noram style clothing, an outfit all in gray, with a simple tunic and trousers.

"Well, I know for one that I'd love to have the use of one of your shields, at least for the trip. I understand that it may not be allowed, but that would help me feel safe. Even asleep nothing much could harm me then." He sounded like that wouldn't be happening and the Royal guards all shook their heads a little, probably forgetting that these people weren't prisoners. Tor felt that way too, a bit, so could sympathize. The fact was though that these weren't criminals particularly, not bad ones at least. They stole information, but that was pretty much all.

If they didn't want to go back to their homeland they didn't have to, so it wasn't likely the shields would be abused as weapons on the trip.

"Alright, I can provide one for each of you, to be returned when you leave the ship in Austra. Anything else?"

The room went silent. Not just quiet, Tor couldn't even hear breathing for about ten seconds. Not until Nita spoke, her voice sounding a little shy.

"That's very kind of you and shows great trust." There was no skepticism when she said the words, but there was a few seconds later when the older Royal guard spoke.

"Indeed. We'd be at a disadvantage if it came to... problems, were that the case."

Tor really needed to learn the man's name, but didn't want to ask in front of everyone, it was his house and everyone probably assumed he already knew. Not that the Royal guard ever asked his permission for anything, but if he was there, Tor was going to be thought responsible for it. He looked at the man and smiled though, shaking his head.

"What problems would those be? That they might try to take over the ship so they don't have to go home? If that's the case I'll give them carriage, supplies and some gold and they can go their own way without issue. These are our guests... If being safe means knowing no one can easily attack them, then that's what we'll do. Even for Quavel." Tor looked at the man and shook his fist, grinning while he did it, getting a soft chuckle from a few people. The older ex-servant just looked down at the table though.

"Thank you sir." He was always so polite. Years of practice no doubt.

Nodding Tor continued.

"So... Carlos is in charge of the food for all of us and I'll be working with him, everyone will get a poison detector, um, just keep the ones you have, and the Royal guard will act as servants to see to your comfort. The Lairdgren group is coming to crew the ship and wash dishes... Am I missing anything?"

Kenner, who looked about ten still, even though he was fifteen, thanks to some Austran growth stunting technology, piped up in a clipped accent. It wasn't the one Tor was used to hearing on the boy, but his words were obviously meant to be funny.

"Dancing girls? Maybe some working women to see to... fun? I'm not getting any at home for years, looking this young and being under age there." He got a laugh.

"Um..." Tor thought about it and shook his head slowly.

"I know some women, but we're leaving in a few hours, as soon as everyone gets a chance to sleep and first light comes. I mean real first light, not full daylight. I don't think we have time to get that arranged. Maybe I can signal ahead to Warden and see if they have anyone willing to go?" No one laughed when he said it, but that was fine, since he was serious.