David Dalglish - The Shadows of Grace

“My Lord, Lady Aurelia Thyne of the elvenkind!” shouted the soldier, his voice echoing in the empty hall. The three stood at the entrance, moving forward only after the lead soldier gestured. Aurelia led the way, Harruq and Haern flanking her either side. Once they were halfway there, the surrounding soldiers halted and slammed the butts of their halberds to the stone floor.

“Hail the Lord of the Green!” they shouted. The three Eschaton stopped, bewildered.

A door opened on the far right of the throne, and in stepped Lord Sully, a silver crown on his head. His face was clean-shaven, his eyes brown, his hair black with a hint of gray. He wore chainmail armor, brightly polished. A long sword swayed at his hip. When he saw Aurelia he smiled.

“Lady Thyne,” he said, striding up as if they were long-lost friends. “Welcome to my home.”

He extended a foot forward and then bowed. Aurelia returned it with her smooth elven curtsey, while Harruq did his best to match Haern’s expert bow.

“A warm welcome,” Aurelia said, smiling back at him. “Though I fear the news I bring will fade your smile.”

“My smile will never fade looking upon your beauty,” Lord Sully said. “But surely you have traveled long and far. I’ve already sent servants to prepare rooms for all three of you. Might you join me for bread and wine?”

“A kind offer,” Aurelia said. “Though we will need only two rooms. To my right is Harruq Tun, my husband by marriage.”

Lord Sully’s eyes twinkled as if he were deeply amused.

“An intriguing match,” he said, turning to Harruq. “Perhaps while we break bread you might explain how you won over such a lady.”

Harruq blushed and shifted on his feet, not sure if he was being mocked or not.

“Our rooms, please,” Aurelia said, trying to bail Harruq out.

“Right away,” Lord Sully said, snapping his fingers. A trio of servants rushed in from the same door the lord had entered through. “They will take you to your rooms. Once you’ve refreshed, join me in the hall. We’ll have a feast ready for you. The days have grown dark, and it’d be good to celebrate your arrival.”

With a deep bow, he left them. The Eschaton followed the servants to their rooms. Somehow, a large tub of steaming hot water was already waiting in each. The servants handed them several towels and soaps. Harruq accepted them with a perplexed look on his face.

“We walk in, barely even introduce ourselves, and we get food, bath, and wine?” he asked. “Is this how nobility live?”

“Oftentimes, yes,” Aurelia said, untying the laces of her dress. “I went with my parents a few times to speak with the King of Mordeina. Until the ill times, our treatment was always exquisite.”

“Huh,” Harruq said, watching Aurelia undress.

“No funny ideas,” she said as she slipped naked into the water.

“Who, me?”

The water was nearly scalding, but Harruq forced himself in. Once he lay back, the water nearly up to his neck, he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Not bad,” he said.

Aurelia splashed him in the face.

Ten minutes later, the servants returned while they were toweling off.

“Pardon the interruption,” said a chubby woman carrying a stack of clothes. “My Lord says with how long you’ve been traveling you might not have proper court clothes.”

Harruq grumbled as he sat on the bed, only a towel hiding his nakedness.

“I have to dress like a pansy noble?” he asked.

“Yes,” Aurelia said, taking an offered outfit.

“I guessed on the sizes,” the servant lady said. She looked to Harruq and frowned. “Though you’re a tad taller and a bit rounder in the arms than I thought.”

The other two servants accompanying her also held clothes in their arms. The chubby one searched through a pile, found something more akin to Harruq’s size, and laid it out on the bed. She then grabbed the remaining towels before all three hurried off, shutting the door behind them.

“Get dressed,” Aurelia said. “We’ve taken long enough. If we tarry, Lord Sully might take it as an insult.”

“Will he take it as an insult if I wear my old clothes and armor?” Harruq asked, holding up a finely woven shirt of white and blue.

“Of course,” Aurelia said. “You would attend a conference of peace dressed in the garb of war?”

Harruq rolled his eyes.

“Can’t we just go find some orcs and beat them senseless instead?” he asked.

Aurelia let her towel drop and held the dress to her chest. She leaned over and kissed him on the nose, then started sliding the soft purple fabric over her head. Harruq sighed but ceased his complaining. Aurelia’s dress was tight around the waist, but she adjusted it as best she could. The shoulders were frilled in a style she didn’t recognize, the bottom stitched to always appear wavy and in motion. It hugged her body tight, and Harruq shook his head at the sight of her.

“You were meant for this stuff, not I,” he said.

“You look dashing,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go see if Haern is ready.”

They’d brought Haern a similar outfit as Harruq, dark britches with long-sleeved shirts of white and blue. Haern, however, seemed far more comfortable in it. He’d combed his blond hair back and shaved his face. Harruq wondered if one of the servants had trusted him with a razor, or if he’d managed to smuggle in a dagger despite the guard’s request. Haern wore his gray cloak still, and he let it swoop about him as he bowed.

“Aren’t we the dashing three?” Haern asked, wearing a wry smile.

“Let’s not drag this out too long,” Aurelia said. “Enjoy your food, but make sure we discuss other matters as well. I don’t know how Lord Sully will react or what he knows. He’ll keep his information close to his chest, so watch your words.”

“Yes, milady,” Haern said, winking.

She snapped her fingers at him, the tips sparking with electricity.

“Off we go.”

When Lord Sully had said ‘feast’ he didn’t exaggerate. Harruq’s mouth dropped open at the sight. Baskets of bread dotted the tables, along with several filled with a red fruit Harruq didn’t recognize. Each of the four tables had a roasted boar, still hanging from the spit over elaborate plates of silver. Upon their entrance, the Lord raised a cup from his seat at the head of the largest table. A hundred soldiers sat nearby, their plates empty. As one they stood and turned toward the Eschaton.

“To our guests,” Lord Sully said.

“Honored!” the soldiers shouted, slamming a clenched fist against their breast. They sat as one. Lord Sully sipped from his cup, and then the feast began in earnest.

“Please, sit at my side,” he said, gesturing to empty seats at either side of him. “It will allow us to talk.”

Aurelia sat on his left. Harruq sat beside her, while Haern sat opposite the lord.

“You are too kind,” Aurelia said as servants darted about carrying plates, forks, knives, and food.

“Now is time for feasting, and therefore an end to all the formality,” Lord Sully said. “Please, call me Richard.”

For a little while they ate, Harruq thoroughly enjoying the many meats, breads, and seemingly unlimited amount of wine. After a third cup, Aurelia not so subtly reminded him to keep his head. Harruq muttered but obeyed.

“I must confess,” Richard said, sipping from his cup. He’d eaten very little of the meal set out before him. “We did not prepare such a feast solely for you. Today is a special day for us, a night of feasts for all my soldiers throughout the Hillock.”

“What might that be for?” Harruq asked. Aurelia winced at how he talked with food in his mouth.

“Tomorrow we ride to war,” Richard said. Harruq’s eyebrows shot up.