Authors: John Buttrick
“I booked us into the Dignitary Suite,” Jared explained. “All of the nobles and people of importance do so. They simply cannot do without having at least a few of their staff near at hand. You, of course, are to sleep in the largest room, while Marcus, David, and I
, will share one room and Silvia can sleep in the other. Her room is the smallest but she has it to her self.”
“You did well,” Silvia said from her room. She was sprawled across the bed and spreading her arms and legs open and closed, clearly luxuriating in a bed that was fit for a high born lady. “Thank you, Daniel, for changing your mind about lodgings.”
Daniel nodded acknowledgement, glanced in the other room and wondered how three men were going to share one bed comfortably. In his room was a huge brass bed with purple curtains around it. To the left was a writing table with paper and a gold pen and ink pot. He actually could read and write, but had few occasions to do so before going to Aakadon, where he did a lot of extensive reading, including music off a page. To the right was a dining table with a bottle of wine, compliments of the establishment, and a glass covered plate containing bread rolls and a dish of butter. Sitting in the chair would give him a view of the palace through the multi-paned glass window.
“I took the liberty of ordering two mattresses brought up, they should be here momentarily, and also sent for our meals. Your presence seems to cause a bit of stir, so I thought, perhaps, that you would prefer dining alone,” Jared told him.
The man was a jewel, thinking ahead, anticipating what was needed, and taking care of all the little details Daniel surely would have overlooked until the situation was upon him. “Good thinking, I approve, but I don’t mind us dining together.”
Jared smiled, and it was a patient smile, the kind you give someone who has misunderstood something that should have been obvious. “I meant dining with the patrons downstairs.”
“Right then,” Daniel said, and sat down in the chair.
“What about baths?” Silvia inquired while joining the rest, who were standing
around staring at one another.
“They are down the hall to the left, I reserved five. The attendants will be expecting us in a quarter of a mark. The baths are highly sought after so I’m afraid we must go at the appointed times or miss our turns.”
The tub was waiting when Daniel finally took his turn, after insisting the others go first. He ordered the attendant out of the room and then summoned the potential for, Laundering. His clothes were suddenly spotless and fresh smelling. He could have cast a spell to clean his body as well but preferred to soak in the tub for the three tenths of a mark he had left. He toweled off and got dressed before the attendant knocked on the door to inform him, “Begging the master’s pardon,” that his time was up. Daniel tipped him a silver coin and the man smiled like a farmer seeing rain after a long drought.
“Thank you kindly,” the man said as Daniel headed back to his suite.
Dinner was there when he arrived and consisted of roasted beef, gravy, potatoes, and corn. They ate the bread rolls and had an excellent peach cobbler for desert. Daniel had barely set his fork down when a knock on the door caused a stir. Marcus jumped to his feet and moved to stand on one side of the door, hand on the hilt of his sword, while Jared took hold of the knob.
“Who may I say is paying a call?” the account keeper spoke in a loud voice.
“Jason, the doorman, your employer’s presence is required downstairs,” the voice shouted through the door.
Jared opened the door and looked the chubby man in the eyes. “And who has the authority to summon my employer’s presence at will?”
“Sir Carlo Bencofer, Royal Knight of the Realm,” the doorman replied. “Normally I would stay downstairs and send a boy, but the Knight instructed me to deliver the summons and I dared not defy a Knight of the Realm.”
Daniel did not blame the man for coming in person. A Royal Knight of the Realm was no ordinary knight. This man’s authority came directly from the Queen. He had the judicial authority of a magistrate and was the inter
-kingdom equivalent of a royal emissary, while possessing equal rank to a commanding general in the both the army, and cavalry. Royal Knights of the Realm were the Queen’s hand, carrying her law on their shoulders and could arrest even a high lord if the situation warranted.
“I will come immediately,” Daniel spoke up, while stepping past Marcus and Jared. He glanced back at them. “Coming?”
They sprang into action and filed in behind him, as did Silvia and David. Tough as Marcus is, it was doubtful even he would take on a Knight of the Realm if it came to drawing swords, but the man came along for moral backup, or curiosity, but he came.
When Daniel reached the ground floor common room a large crowd had gathered, likely to see what all the fuss was about. Sir Carlo was standing there, green and gold helmet in hand, along with twelve
Royal Guardsmen, whose uniforms were similar to those of the guards at the gate, except with gold where the others had dark green. These had swords rather than halberds but none had hand to hilt so they were not coming as if after a criminal. The Knight’s emerald green wool jacket was open, revealing the finest light weight silver chain mail over a light green silk shirt. The royal hawk in flight was embroidered on his jacket where when closed it would be over his heart. His cuffs were gold strands sewn into the fabric as were what looked like thin solid bars on his shoulders. He had oval patches on his left and right upper arms, beige, depicting in embroidery, a horseman charging into battle on a grassy plain; his family crest. His pants were gold on green and his boots a shiny black. This was his dress uniform, not the one he would wear out in the field or riding into battle. His sword belt was black studded around with a double row of diamonds.
“Daniel Benhannon, I have been sent to escort you to the Queen, who requires your presence immediately,” Sir Carlo spoke in a strong voice that carried across the room.
This is what Daniel came for. Any hope of going unnoticed was over, if it had not been long gone already. He nodded his head formally to the Knight. “I will be honored to go with you,” he replied and then allowed them to escort him.
Outside it was dark but the street lamps lit up a magnificent black-lacquered coach with gold trim and the royal hawk in flight emblem on the door. The driver was wearing palace livery, which consisted of coat, hat, pants, shirt, and boots, all in shades of green, his boots and hat being the darkest. The Sergeant-of-the-guard, a slender man about Daniel’s age, gestured for Silvia, David, Marcus, and Jared to enter a fancy green carriage that was behind the coach, which they did. The guardsmen took to their horses, six in the lead and six taking up the rear. Both conveyances were pulled by large white horses. Inside the coach was a pair of couches. Sir Carlo sat on one and motioned for Daniel to take the other. The Knight looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His hair and eyes were dark; his skin pale, like nearly all Ducaunans, and his mustache was neatly trimmed. In fact
everything about him was neat.
“I am glad to finally meet you, having heard so much talk of your exploits,” Sir Carlo said in a rich baritone.
Daniel gave him a nod of the head in response but then decided the man deserved a better reply. “I’ve heard about your reputation along the Pentrosan border, impressive that.”
“It seems they always try to test our kingdom’s resolve to hold the boundaries. Every few years it is necessary to remind them just how resolved we are,” the Knight replied.
“I never imagined a Knight of the Realm would be sent to fetch me,” Daniel told him.
Sir Carlo smiled. “I volunteered for the honor. Eight of the twenty Knights of the Realm are in the capital as we speak, eager to meet the man who has rid our realm of Balen Tamm, and smashed his headquarters so hard his associates have scattered like roaches.”
“Glad to have been of help,” Daniel replied and could not resist smiling back. The man had an easy manner about him.
The coach traveled up the thoroughfare, which was so well lit it seemed to be kept in perpetual twilight. The procession continued on, passed the gate between the granite walls, and up into the palace grounds, which were also well lit. The trees were just beginning to wear their autumn colors. Beds of flowers in multi-stepped terraces surrounded the hill leading up to the huge pearl colored royal residence, one of the few buildings in Ducaun built by the Stone Guild. Tall hedges lined the way along the inner road leading to the massive double-door entrance. There was gold leaf on those doors and four royal guardsmen with halberds g
uarding it.
Daniel had never seen so much wealth displayed outside of Aakadon, where precious metals and gems were as common as bricks. Sir Carlo led him out of the coach, into the palace, and down a side corridor. Daniel had no idea where his friends had been directed to go but knew they were nowhere in sight. The Knight set a brisk pace but there was no trouble keeping up with him. A thick green rug ran the length of the hall. The walls were white marble and every ten paces was an alcove on either side with a vase or statue within. Between the alcoves were portraits of past monarchs going back to Queen Veronica. They came to a maple wood door and the Knight led him into a room that had seven palace servants, three of which were woman younger than Daniel. All but one stood with variou
s articles of clothing in hand.
“If you would just remove your clothes,” a young, comfortably plump, woman in green liv
ery said, the empty handed one.
Daniel felt his cheeks grow hot. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” he asked, surprised. Jared had assured him his current clothing was fit for any royal court.
Sir Carlo smiled, folded his hands, and leaned back on the door. “You are not dressed appropriately for what is to come,” he said cryptically.
Daniel looked more closely at the garments they wanted him to wear. The silk shirt and cotton undershirt, being held by one of the young women, the one with a slender nose, were green but had a family crest; a falcon in flight carrying a golden lighting bolt in its talons against a sky of blue. The same crest was on the upper arm patches of the emerald green coat with gold cuffs being held by the skinny young man next to her. One light brown-eyed woman was holding a pair of black boots stylized with the royal hawk in flight in the leather, and the remaining men to the left and right were holding silver chain mail and the emerald gold on green pants. Each dark-haired man tried to maintain solemn expressions, but their lips kept twitching as if in a struggle not to smile. Then it dawned on him what they intended.
“Close your mouth,” Sir Carlo told him. “You are going to be knighted and it is my honor to get you ready to approach Her Majesty.”
Daniel was shaking his head. This could not be happening; surely they were not going to make him a Royal Knight of the Realm. He was strongly tempted to refuse, just walk away, no one could stop him, a fully functional Six-bolt Accomplished, but he remembered what the Teki Seer had advised and so hesitated to f
ollow his first impulse. “Why?”
“It is not official yet, as it has not been published, but I have seen the legal documents. You are being knighted for uncommon valor in service to the realm. The crest was personally designed and registered by the Queen, which is practically unheard of. She is well pleased with you,” Sir Carlo replied while stepping away from the door and pointing to a smaller door in the back of the room. “If you prefer, you may change in there.”
Daniel went into the other room, which had a single oil lamp on a table, a three legged stool for him to sit on, and several hooks attached to the walls. He removed his outer clothes and opened the door just enough to pass them through to the attendants, who gave him the cotton shirt and pants. He put them on and waited. After a few moments passed he realized they expected him to step back into the outer room. He did so and allowed then to help him finish getting dressed. The only thing he lacked was the sword and belt.
Time flew by swiftly from that point on. He was escorted into the main hall where
General Tallen stood waiting. He was a middle-aged man possessing few wrinkles, a round face, and who seemed more muscle than fat. “Pleased I am to see you again and be here on such a grand occasion,” he gave greetings and joined the procession. The general wore a pair of gold stars on the collar of his light green silk shirt, beneath which was the finest quality chain mail, and four golden hawks on the shoulders of his jacket, which was gold trimmed, and a slightly darker shade of green. The royal hawk in flight was engraved in gold on his green lacquered helmet.
Sir Michel Kagan, a man of medium build with a broad flat nose and Sir Tomas Zollaf, a rugged man with a touch of gray in his hair, both Royal Knights of the Realm, completed the escort into the throne room, where they all came to a stop. A herald announced their presence and Daniel was told to approach the throne, Sir Carlo was the only one who proceeded with him. Cleona of house Ducalin, Queen of Ducaun, sat in fine regal apparel
of violet and red. Her hair was peppered with gray even though she was only thirty years of age, her face was gaunt, and she was bone thin. She might have been pretty once but her obvious poor health robbed her of whatever physical comeliness she might have had, but her eyes were alert and reflected a keen intelligence.
The room was filled with noble observers, cabinet ministers, lords and ladies, seven Royal Knights of the Realm,
not counting Sir Carlo, and royal guardsmen at the doors and four around the throne. Beside Her Majesty were her advisers, four silver-haired men and two women, one of which was decades younger than the other five counselors present. Her hair was black and she bent over and whispered something in the Queen’s ear, who nodded acknowledgement.