Thinblade (29 page)

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Authors: David Wells

Tags: #Epic, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Thinblade
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She seemed to worry over his answer for a few minutes while they walked through the palace to his quarters. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to him. “Have you looked at me? I mean, at my colors?”

He smiled gently and answered simply, “Yes.”

She frowned as she worked up the nerve to ask the question that was really on her mind. “What did you see?” she said in a very small voice, almost as if she was afraid of the answer but had to know.

Alexander waited for a moment. When Isabel didn’t look up at him, he reached out and gently raised her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Your colors are clear and beautiful. You have a strength and goodness about you that is rare.”

She smiled a little. When she felt her face start to flush, she turned and started down the hall again and didn’t say anything else until she stopped in front of a large door.

“This is your room. If you need anything just pull the bell for the servant. Good night, Alexander,” she said and then smiled up at him without making any move to leave.

His mouth went dry. The time had arrived for him to ask the question he’d been working over and over in his mind. He hesitated for only a moment before blurting it out, “Isabel, would you accompany me to the banquet tomorrow?” He held his breath.

Her face lit up with a smile and her eyes came alive. She actually curtsied. “It would be my honor,” she giggled and added, “I was hoping you’d ask.” She gave him a little kiss on the cheek and headed down the hall, calling out over her shoulder with laughter in her voice, “Sleep well, Alexander.”

He watched her until she turned the corner, flashing him one last smile as she went. Only then did he realize he was standing outside the door to his room wearing a big dumb grin. He looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching before he entered his room.

It was much bigger than he expected. There was a well-dressed, older-looking gentleman standing in the middle of what looked like a sitting room. He was tall and thin with grey hair and a neatly trimmed silver mustache. The room was spacious and well decorated, carpeted from wall to wall in rich dark forest green. A low polished oak table sat in the center of the far end of the room with comfortable-looking couches on two sides and a pair of plush chairs on either end. Off to the right was a large stone fireplace with a cozy fire already burning and a set of four more comfortable-looking chairs facing the hearth, each separated from the other by a small table.

On the wall opposite the entrance was a set of ornate glass doors framed in rich dark green curtains pulled back with heavy gold-colored ropes ending in tassels. The doors opened out onto a balcony that had to be several dozen feet above the courtyard below. Over the fireplace hung a mirror easily as tall as Alexander; it was tilted down at just the right angle so he could see himself when he stood in the center of the room. On the left wall were two remarkably beautiful tapestries that hung from floor to ceiling, each depicting the Glen Morillian valley from a different angle. Between the tapestries was a heavy, polished oak door that stood open. All around the edge of the room were freestanding heavy brass oil lamps that cast a warm glow against the high white ceiling.

The well-dressed man bowed formally. “Your Majesty, I am Renwold. With your permission I will serve as your valet for the duration of your stay here at the palace.”

Alexander was nearly speechless so he just stared at the man. Renwold took the silence as permission to continue. “I have turned down your bed for the evening, set out a selection of wine and banked the fire. If you find you are in need of anything at all, please just pull this cord and I will be along shortly.” He walked over to a heavy, braided, gold-tasseled white rope hanging from a small hole in the ceiling.

“I will return at dawn with a hot beverage prior to the arrival of your tailor. If there isn’t anything else, Your Majesty, I will withdraw.”

When he didn’t leave, Alexander blinked a few times before he found his voice, “Yes, of course, thank you, Renwold.”

The valet bowed formally again and left, carefully closing the door on his way out. Alexander felt a great sense of relief to be alone. He bolted the door and did a quick search of his rooms. It was a suite of two rooms: the sitting room and a bedchamber with a small washroom. The bedchamber was richly furnished with a big feather bed against the center of the wall opposite the door. The large windows to the right of the door were covered with heavy, dark green curtains that were drawn closed. To either side of the bed was an identical nightstand, each with an ornately fashioned brass oil lamp burning brightly. A cushioned bench sat at the foot of the bed and a finely crafted mahogany armoire stood open on the wall to the left of the door. His pack, bedroll, and saddlebags were resting at the foot of the armoire but they hadn’t been opened. Within the armoire were several sets of clothes that looked like they might actually fit him, as well as a rich, comfortable-looking robe.

Alexander was suddenly very tired. He went to the sitting room and extinguished all the lamps, checked the doors to the balcony to be sure they were locked, went into his bedroom and bolted the door. His final precaution was to put his long knife under his pillow before he undressed and climbed into the blissfully comfortable bed. Alexander had always preferred to be comfortable. He could sleep just fine on the ground if need be, but given the choice, he would rather have a warm soft bed.

He woke early, feeling well rested and ready for the day to come. While there were a number of things he wasn’t looking forward to, he was looking forward to having Isabel on his arm at the banquet. While he lay in bed looking at the ceiling, he tried to imagine what she would look like in a dress. He decided that today was going to be a good day before he got up and threw open the curtains. The soft light of early dawn filled the room. He put on the robe and went into the sitting room. As he lit the second lamp, he heard a soft knock at the door.

It was Renwold with a tray of fresh-baked pastries and a pot of hot tea with honey and cream. Alexander stood out on the balcony looking over the courtyard below, eating a sweetbread and sipping his very hot tea when the second knock came. Renwold admitted the tailor, who, very respectfully and very professionally, took Alexander’s measurements for his banquet finery. He enquired about Alexander’s taste in clothing and about the colors that Alexander preferred.

Once he finished with the measurements, he selected a set of clothes from the armoire and insisted that Alexander try them on. At this point Alexander felt like he’d been whisked away by forces greater than himself so he simply agreed. The tailor expertly adjusted the fit of the clothes he’d picked out and Alexander had to admit that they fit quite well.

The tailor had selected a charcoal-grey long-sleeved shirt woven of finely spun soft wool; a broad, black leather belt; a pair of dark brown pants that matched the color of Alexander’s boots and a dark forest green vest with just a hint of gold filigree around the edges and a lining of black rabbit fur. And finally, a long brown leather cloak. Alexander was skeptical of the whole thing at first. He just figured it was easier to humor the man. If he looked ridiculous he could always change clothes once the man left but one look in the mirror changed his mind. The tailor knew his trade. Alexander was pleasantly surprised to see how good he actually looked in the outfit.

He supposed it was important to present himself well to the nobles during council so he decided to go with it. He reminded himself that different battlefields required different weapons. Perhaps appearance was one of those weapons when the battlefield was a council chamber filled with self-important nobles.

Once the tailor finished his work, Renwold announced that breakfast would be served in the family dining room and offered to escort Alexander through the maze of the palace. Before they left, Alexander tucked his long knife into the back of his belt and a smaller knife into his boot. He felt relatively safe here and it was pretty clear that the Alaric family was loyal to him. But he didn’t trust the nobles; any one of them could easily sell out to Phane, and all it took was one well-placed blade.

He arrived at breakfast at the same time as Anatoly and Jack. It was obvious that a tailor had also paid them a visit. Anatoly was dressed in the court uniform of a Ranger, which looked very much like the field uniform except without the armor or weapons. Alexander could see that Anatoly had at least four knives tucked away in his new outfit and probably more if he knew the big man-at-arms at all. Jack was well dressed as well but not overly so. His look was professional but carefully crafted to present a sense of humility and service.

Hanlon, Emily, and Erik were already at the table when Alexander arrived. He took his seat and heard giggling from out in the hall a moment before Abigail and Isabel entered. Both were wearing simply cut yet elegant dresses. Abigail wore a shade of blue that almost perfectly matched her pale eyes and Isabel wore a vibrant green dress that matched her piercing green eyes. Alexander was torn between his surprise at seeing Abigail in a dress and his delight at seeing Isabel wearing one. Both were beautiful and both were beaming at the prospect of a day of shopping for clothes in the markets of Glen Morillian. Alexander couldn’t help but smile. His sister had been through just as much as he had in the past couple of weeks and it lifted his spirits to see her happy. Then there was Isabel. She was beautiful in Rangers field armor. But to see her in a dress made Alexander’s heart race.

Erik smiled up at his sister with pure mischief and asked, “Since when do you wear a dress?”

She shot him a look that would have stopped a charging bull dead in its tracks but couldn’t help giggling with Abigail a moment later. She flashed Alexander a smile as she found her seat. Yes, today would be a good day.

The meal was simple but very good. Hanlon spent most of the time trying to prepare Alexander for the coming council meeting. It was clear that Hanlon didn’t like the nobles much, nor did he find much value in the hours spent in council listening to self-important people go on about unimportant things, when everyone knew that the real decisions were made in private meetings anyway. But he assured Alexander that it was important to win over the nobles in order to gain the full support of Glen Morillian and that was enough to justify the meeting.

Jack asked to attend the council meeting for which Anatoly commended him on his bravery. Jack suggested that it would help him prepare for the evening banquet if he had a better understanding of the nobles. Alexander was happy to have the moral support.

Emily told them that their evening finery would be ready by midafternoon and that they needed to try it on early enough to give the tailors a chance to make any last-minute alterations. Hanlon smiled affectionately at how seriously she took the whole affair. His idea of dressing up was throwing his red sash on over his armor.

When they finished breakfast, it was time for the morning council meeting. Alexander felt the dread grow with each step toward the council chamber. It annoyed him how reassured Jack looked, and he couldn’t help commenting about it.

“You actually look happy about this, Jack.”

“I am in my element, Your Majesty.” He stopped and faced Alexander. “I can’t tell you how many times I felt the cold stark terror of near-certain death on our way here. In the face of all those dangers you carried the day. I know with the certainty of personal experience that Mage Cedric chose wisely. You are calm in the face of death. You keep your wits and make good decisions. If you are out of your element at court, then it is my humble honor to be your guide and champion, for in this arena there are few who can best me.” He was the personification of confidence.

Alexander laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Champion away. I’ll take all the help I can get. And please, I’m open to any suggestions you might have for dealing with the nobles. Just remember, I’ve seen their colors. They’re not to be trusted.”

Jack chuckled, “One of the first things you learn at court is there are precious few people worthy of trust. Nobles tend to be far down the list. In many ways you have them at a disadvantage. Your ability to see their auras provides you with valuable insight that they are not aware you have. I would caution you to guard your talent jealously.”

Hanlon agreed. “They’re certainly not to be trusted and letting them know about your magical sight will only make them feel threatened. I know from experience how their behavior changes when Mason is in the council chamber. They’re much more guarded and careful when they believe their agenda might be discovered through magical means.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

 

 

 

The big council chamber was full to capacity when they entered. Every chair lining the walls of the room was occupied, as was every chair at the big council table except for the head chair and the one immediately to the right, which had been reserved for Alexander and Hanlon.

As soon as they reached their chairs, Jack took a position to the right and a step behind Alexander and deliberately cleared his throat. The conversation in the room began to settle as everyone directed their attention toward Alexander.

Jack spoke clearly in a voice that easily filled the room but didn’t sound at all strained. “Lords and ladies, in the name of the King of Ruatha, I call this council to order.”

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