No, it must be something else.
The unpleasant looking accounting instructor sneered at him, at least he assumed it was directed at him, that or the back of the Count's head, which would just be stupid. Even someone as important to the school as an instructor had to be careful here.
“I think that we've all forgotten that the boy, Baker here, assaulted a sitting member of the peerage. That's considered treason you know. At the very least we need to investigate… Too many royals have been going into combat rage lately for it all to be happenstance…”
The Count, still kneeling, swung on the woman, his giant bulk turning in place so that he could stare. The look was calm though, almost peaceful.
“I don't recall being attacked. I just remember going into a combat rage and attacking my cousin and this man coming to her aid as required, as I would have requested of him personally had I been able to, as I would have begged him to do, and as most people simply wouldn't have… Trice, do you remember any so called assault?” The gaze shifted to the girl who laughed.
“What? Him? Of course not. He just ran up and tapped you on the shoulder to get your attention and then ran away when you turned on him. OK, true, I was kind of baffled by the effects of your battle aura, but that's all I remember seeing…”
The big man stood and returned to his seat, smiling. Hands the size of Tor's whole head spread out in a slow gesture that took in the whole room. “See, two witnesses that there was no assault at all. Except when I hit him… But he's already proclaimed himself my friend, so I take it that he won't be pressing it at court…” The deep voice suddenly went uncertain and he looked at Tor more closely. “Unless… I didn't hurt you did I?”
Tor shook his head, hardly able to believe what he'd just heard. They were both lying to protect him? Him? After what he'd done? And on top of that this royal was asking him if he was injured? Maybe they were playing a game. Every few years someone was put to death for something a lot less dangerous than hitting a Count with a bag of copper field plates.
“No. I mean, I'm fine. Tumbled a little when you brushed me, but not hurt or anything. Kolb has done worse in practice. For that matter Trice did worse the one time I had to work with her, could barely walk right for days. I… didn't know you two were related…”
Trice chuckled, a slightly pained sound, muffled by the object she held to her face. “Yep, first cousins even. Close enough that I don't have to worry about marrying the lout at least. You didn't know that? So… why did you help me?” The girl moved the cloth bundle away from her face and stared at him closely.
Tor shrugged. For all that he claimed that the Count had just brushed him, the move hurt. Fighting giants was not something he wanted to take up as a profession. He subtly tried to work his shoulder around and focus on the girl's face, the magics of the room sent his mind skittering for a few seconds before he forced himself to focus deeply enough.
“Eh?” He said, feeling brilliant when he realized that everyone was watching him. “Well, at first I was just going to leave you, because I didn't know who it was fighting and all I could see was that one of the people was huge. But then I heard you, so I kind of had to help. After all, we're friends and…” For some reason Tor yawned. Damn! That would make him look good, wouldn't it? Sitting around with his mouth open like a moron. He continued as soon as he could. “Sorry. I didn't sleep last night, I managed to get the first fifty of the clothes dryers done at least. Anyway, since we're kind of loosely in business and all, I had to at least try and do something, right?”
It wasn't a very good answer, but it was pretty close to the truth. It just sounded moronic when he said the words out loud. For some reason the girl smiled at him, which made her wince, but she kept doing it anyway. The eye contact from her was direct enough to make him feel a little uncomfortable.
“You didn't know I was a noble at all? So you jumped some unknown giant in a combat rage just to protect me? I mean, me-me, not some royal bitch who might get you a reward or something? That's…” Tears came to her eyes, but she kept smiling. “That's so sweet!”
Count Thomson stopped suddenly and stared at him.
“Fifty? In one night?”
Everyone except the accounting woman seemed slightly distracted by one thing or another. She kept glaring, looking daggers at Tor.
“Still we can't allow this boy to run around unchecked. Something triggered that combat condition. It could have been this one here. It would be a dereliction of duty to not assess this fully or at least remove him from the school. We can't allow threats and attacks to go unpunished.” The woman's lips went white in rage and she rose halfway out of her chair. For a second it felt like the woman was going to strike out at him, a small metal object that looked a lot like a cutter appeared in her hand. Tor hadn't noticed it there before at least.
“As a member of the Royal Guard, it's my duty to protect from such potential threats. Now, I'm taking this boy to the holding cell until minds clear and you people start listening to reason… Come with me… now boy.” This last came out as a growl, menacing and darker than Tor had thought a woman would be capable of. Any woman. Instead of an older academic, he realized that he was facing some kind of hidden guard.
The Royal Guards were not known for their restraint and brooked no insolence at all. Tor shuddered and stood slowly, trying to make certain that he didn't provoke her in any way. His hands went out, palms slightly down, about shoulder high without thinking about it. It was something Kolb had taught him to do. It would look like he was surrendering, but leave him able to fight if he had to. For all the good it would do him if he tried. No one could beat a cutter or lance like that, even people that were good enough to take a sword. Honestly given everything he probably couldn't beat the woman with any weapon or even if she was empty handed.
Whoever this accounting instructor was in real life, the move wasn't lost on her, she flowed into a fighting stance so smoothly that Tor almost didn't notice it happening. The subtle shifting of muscle and bone put her in line to attack instantly. The only thing that saved him was that Kolb laughed, distracting the woman.
“Wensa, sit down and stop being foolish. We're all worried about this. It was clearly an assassination attempt, wielding one of our charges as the weapon nonetheless. I'd guess Austran technology. But Torrence didn't do it and you know that. This had to be someone highly skilled in magics of the mind at the very least and more likely an Austran agent. Tor's good and I have no doubt that in ten or twenty years' time he'll be able to do exactly what was done here, but right now? Not even with his skills. Besides, why would he?”
The older woman didn't take her eyes off of him, or relax at all.
“What reason? Well, he's from a poor family. Gold is an ancient reason and usually at the heart of matters. For that matter lust could be the cause too. He ran to save the Ducherina after all. Perhaps this was all merely a ploy to get her under the bed covers?” She raised her left hand to forestall speech. “I know, that one's not too likely, it would be too far for most to go just to get a woman, no matter how comely, into bed, and probably not needed, but we should at least check for a sudden influx of gold into his pocket…”
Tor stopped breathing.
He did have gold in his pocket, at least back in his room in his clothing chest, near the bottom. Pocket adjacent. The remaining thirty gold out of what Rolph had paid him for the dryers he bought. A simple search would uncover it. Should he tell them about it first? But wouldn't that make it look like Rolph had something to do with all this? Tor just didn't know what to do.
Luckily, he didn't have to.
“Captain Wensa…” The Count spoke softly, his voice slow and careful as if trying to not insult the woman, even if he felt she was being foolish. “Torrence Baker is a friend to us and should be treated as such. Further, he's an emerging talent in his field and may be of great use to Noram as the years pass. I think you owe him… not an apology perhaps, as you are simply doing your job, but at least the benefit of the doubt? He's offered no violence, so perhaps you might decide to not eviscerate him in the safe room?”