by F. P. Spirit
Sir Kelvick was a tall, gaunt man with dark hair, a thin mustache, and a goatee. There were traces of grey here and there in each, but it made him look distinguished rather than old. He was dressed in a fancy blue outfit with the heraldic of Dunwynn woven into the fabric of the jacket. It was a golden crown floating above a crossed sword and scepter, all on a background of deep royal blue. The Duke stood there with a sour expression as Fafnar whispered to him. A thin smile crept across his face.
An eerie feeling came over Glo as he watched that smug smile. Kelvick snapped his fingers, and one of his menservants came running forward. After a brief exchange of words, the servant ran off. He returned a minute later with two scroll cases under his arm. Kelvick held out his hand, and the servant placed one of the scrolls into it. Glo stared intently at that scroll case. What could the Duke be up to?
No! It couldn’t be. What were the odds that Kelvick would come to Andrella’s party with scrolls of Feast? That would be incredibly presumptuous, even for the Duke of Dunwynn. Glo watched in disbelief as Lord Kelvick stepped forward. He cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to himself. “Ahem. Lady Andrella,” he said in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “Please allow Dunwynn to assist you in your time of need.”
Andrella paused her weeping and looked up from where she was nestled in Lloyd’s arms. The Duke made a grand gesture of opening the scroll case, removing the scroll from it, and unrolling it.
“He missed his calling,” a voice whispered behind him. “He is actually quite good with theatrics.”
“What he is, is an unmitigated ass,” another voice replied.
Glo nearly choked. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Shalla, Donnie, and the Dame Alana standing behind him.
Alana spoke up. “That is not a kind way to talk about such a high-ranking noble.” The lady knight appeared quite serious at first, but then sighed, the corners of her mouth upturning. “Alas, from what I have seen, I cannot argue the point.”
The trio smiled in unison at the lady knight. Meanwhile, Lord Kelvick was still engaged in his theatrics. He spoke in an officious tone. “Stand back, please.”
Fafnar and the rest of the Dunwynn retinue moved forward. They unceremoniously cleared everyone out of the way.
“Kelvick, whatever are you doing?” a gruff voice spoke out. Gryswold and Gracelynn had rejoined them. They now stood next to their daughter and Lloyd.
“You shall see in a moment, Gryswold,” Kelvick answered in a haughty tone. When enough room had been cleared, Kelvick read from the first scroll. It was a short incantation. When he finished, a glow of light appeared in the center of the area. The light grew brighter and then expanded until it was a few yards long, two yards wide and four feet high.
The bright light slowly coalesced until it formed into a long table, complete with seating for twelve. The table itself was magnificent—long and ornate, with twelve matching chairs, twelve fancy place settings, a frilly lace tablecloth, and six sets of candelabras down the center. Further, the selection of food on it was unbelievable. There was bisque, chowder, prime rib, lobster, chicken, fish, potatoes au gratin, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, three different kinds of bread, butter, herb salad, apple pies, cherry pies, pudding, and a number of clear flasks filled with golden nectar. This was no mere meal; it was a banquet fit for a king. The spread made what the Baron had originally presented look quite meager in comparison.
Gryswold stood there stoically, not reacting to the Duke’s conjuration. Gracelynn stared from her husband to her brother, a concerned look on her face. Andrella, on the other hand, seemed totally mesmerized. She had pulled away from Lloyd and stared in awe at the table before her. Kelvick did not stop there. He appeared quite pleased with himself as he received the second scroll from his servant and repeated his previous performance. When he was done, a second table appeared a couple of yards from the first, equally as marvelous.
The Baron finally decided to speak. “Well, Kelvick, although this is mighty gracious of you, there does not seem to be enough...”
He was interrupted, however, by his daughter. “Oh, Uncle!”
Andrella rushed toward the Duke and stopped in front of him, clasping her hands together like a schoolgirl. “It’s lovely!” she gushed. She leaned forward and kissed Kelvick on the cheek.
Glo cocked his head to one side, and eyed the young lady uncertainly. Can she really be that shallow?
“You are quite welcome, Niece,” the Duke said, beaming at her enthusiasm. He clearly had elicited the response he wanted from her.
“But, Andrella...” Gryswold began.
This time Kelvick cut him off. “Why don’t you come and sit with us at the head table, Andrella?” he said, waving his hand toward the first table.
“I would be honored, Uncle Kelvick,” she said, her cheeks aglow.
Fafnar cast a quick glance around, a smug look on his face as he put out his arm for Andrella to take. However, instead of grasping it, the young lady put up her hand in front of her. “Just a moment please.” She spun around and ran back to stand in front of Lloyd. Breathlessly, she grabbed the young man by the arm. “Coming?” she said in a loud voice.
Glo nearly choked. So this is what she was up to.
Andrella had only pretended to be shallow, to beat her uncle at his own game. Now she was doing so, by inviting whom she wanted to the dinner table. Lloyd, however, seemed uncertain. He peered tentatively over at Gryswold, but the Baron was smiling. He nodded his approval.
“Go ahead, Lloyd. You’ve earned it.”
Relief spread across Lloyd’s face. He let the eager young lady lead him away. Fafnar appeared crestfallen. He stared unabashedly at the young couple as they headed toward their seats at the magnificent table. It appeared as if he was going to protest, but he was abruptly cut off.
Gryswold spoke again, raising his voice so all could hear. “In fact, I think that all those who fought today should get priority seating at these tables. After all, they did save our lives!” He turned toward the Duke, a broad smile on his face. “Don’t you agree, Kelvick?”
The Duke of Dunwynn’s face had gone ashen. He was obviously taken aback by both Andrella’s choice of companion as well as the Baron’s declaration. “Well... um... that’s mighty generous of you, Gryswold... but...”
He never got the chance to finish. His sister, the Lady Gracelynn, interrupted him this time. “Well then, it’s agreed!” She clasped her hands together, expertly mimicking her daughter’s performance of a few moments ago. “Wizard Glolindir, Cleric Aksel, Bard Elladan, Master Donatello, Dame Alana please take a seat at the head table. And can someone please go fetch Sir Craven?”
The Duke’s face reddened. “Gracelynn! You can’t be serious! These people aren’t the ones...”
Once again, Gracelynn interrupted him, speaking with mock chagrin. “Why, Kelvick! You are quite right. We shouldn’t discount anyone just because of their station.” She whirled around. “Captain Gelpas. Please inform guards Francis, Relkin, and Carlton that they may take their places with you at the head table.”
The Captain of the Guard had a hard time suppressing a grin. “Yes, your ladyship.” As he strode away, Elladan whispered briefly in the Baroness’s ear. She nodded and then called after Gelpas. “And please have someone fetch the archer Martan from the top of the tower!”
The Duke’s eyes went wide with horror. He was completely flustered now. His niece, brother in-law, and sister had expertly outmaneuvered him, turning his momentary victory into utter defeat. Andrella, taking up on her mother’s cue, hammered in the last nail.
“Oh, Uncle Kelvick! I could not have asked for a better present than this wonderful meal, surrounded by the brave men and women who risked their lives to save us all.” She turned to the rest of the party guests and asked, “What say you all? Is this not the most magnanimous gesture you
have ever seen?”
The various nobles responded with cheers and salutations for the Duke of Dunwynn. Glo, with his keen hearing, caught the little bits of laughter intermingled with the applause. These nobles were not fools. It was obvious that the Duke was uncomfortable and had been diplomatically bested by the first family of Ravenford. Kelvick, however, was not one to openly admit defeat. He graciously accepted the applause, smiling and waving through it all. Fafnar, on the other hand, was obviously mortified by this turn of events. He stood by, morosely eyeing Andrella and Lloyd as they sat together at the first table. Glo tried hard to hold in his laughter. Donnie, Elladan, Shalla, and Aksel all had broad grins on their faces. Even the Dame Alana wore a bemused look.
Since there were only twenty-four place settings, a number of the guests decided to call it an evening and head back to their respective inns for a meal. When all was said and done, there were more than enough seats for those who were left at the second table. Baron Gryswold, Lady Gracelynn, Lord Kelvick, and Sir Fafnar all sat at that table along with the merchant Haltan. They were joined by Ves and her two younger sisters, Maya and Ruka, the latter of whom had finally decided to make an appearance.
Lord Kelvick took an immediate interest in Ves. He finagled the seating arrangement, managing to sit himself down beside the golden-haired young beauty. Three of the seats were held empty in honor of Sir Brennon, Sir Duncan, and Sir Calric. Servants ran two of the three meals over to the church for the knights who were holding vigil over their fallen comrade.
Martan, coming from the top of the tower, arrived last. The tall, lean, rugged-looking archer stood at the head table, stroking his short brown beard as he surveyed the occupied seats. With no room left at the first table, he had no choice but to sit at the second one. The humble archer was quite reluctant, especially with the high-ranking nobles who were seated there. Elladan, however, would not take no for an answer. He marched the man over directly toward Ves and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Ves, wouldn’t you agree that our friend here deserves to eat with the rest of us?”
Ves had shown a sincere fondness for Martan on their adventures out at Cape Marlin. When she saw him now, she seemed delighted. “Martan!” She stood up, grasped his arm and kissed him on the cheek. Martan blushed a furious shade of red. “Well, of course! He can sit here with us.” Ves turned to her sisters. “Ruka, Maya, please move down one seat.” After the two girls moved over, Ves sat the reluctant archer down between herself and the Duke of Dunwynn.
When Elladan returned to their table, he wore a wide grin. “You should have seen the Duke’s face when Ves sat Martan between them.”
The entire table burst into laughter at the Duke’s expense. Overall, Glo found the entire affair most satisfying. Thanks to Gryswold, Gracelynn, and Andrella, an awkward situation had been turned into a tribute to those who deserved it most—and Elladan’s little maneuver was the icing on the cake.
Cake! Glo’s stomach growled. Gods, I’m hungry.
Three main courses later, Glo’s appetite was sated. He had been ravenous after this last ordeal and even managed to keep up with Lloyd.
Now he felt refreshed and invigorated, as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep. He knew it was in good part thanks to the Feast spell. The spell had magical properties beyond an ordinary meal. However, he also felt it was that he could relax for the first time in quite a while.
Glo’s eyes flickered around the table, carefully observing his companions. They were talking and joking comfortably, as if they were seated at their regular booth in the Charging Minotaur. Elladan had borrowed one of the empty chairs from the other table and made room for Shalla. The lady bard now sat by his side, sharing his meal. Donnie was engaged in a lively conversation with the fiery lady knight Alana and her comrade, Sir Craven. Lloyd and Andrella sat close together, holding hands, feeding each other, and staring into each other’s eyes. Even Aksel appeared complacent, sitting across from Captain Gelpas. From the bits and pieces he could pick up, the two were having a deep conversation about ethics.
Over at the other table, Ves doted on Martan, just as she had back at Cape Marlin. The archer, in turn, was far too entranced with the beautiful young woman to even notice Lord Kelvick’s disdainful glare. All in all, his friends seemed quite content—all except for Seth. No one had seen the halfling since before the battle. Still, Glo was not worried. Seth could handle himself. He was certain the halfling was around here somewhere. His suspicions were soon confirmed. Kelvick’s attention was so fixated on Ves and Martan that he completely missed the chicken leg that floated off his plate and disappeared into thin air. Glo stifled a laugh. Leave it to Seth to steal the Duke’s food from right under his nose!
The meal was nearly at an end when a Dunwynn guard ran across the courtyard and up to Sir Fafnar. The guard bent down and whispered something into the noble’s ear. Fafnar stood up and drew the man aside.
Elladan nodded his head toward the pair. “I wonder what all that’s about?”
Fafnar spun around and glared at them, then rushed over to the Duke’s side. He bent low and whispered into his ear. Kelvick, still preoccupied with Ves and Martan, sat suddenly up in his seat, wide-eyed.
Glo’s apprehension grew. “I think we’re about to find out.”
The Duke turned toward the Baron and spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Gryswold, some alarming news has just come to my attention.”
The Baron let out a heavy sigh. He had been relaxing quietly with his wife.
“What is it, Kelvick?” he replied in a less-than-enthusiastic voice.
“It seems that a Dunwynn guard was attacked by these ruffians that you call Heroes. He was robbed, beaten, and left lying on the banks of the river.” The Duke threw down his napkin and stood up. “I will not stand for this, Gryswold! An attack on any of my men is an attack on all of Dunwynn. What do you intend to do about it?” He placing his hands on his hips and glared expectantly at the Baron.
Glo thought back to their encounter in town with the Dunwynn soldier. Robbed? Beaten? That is certainly not how they had left him. Was the Duke purposely exaggerating, or had that truly happened? No, he had been neither robbed nor beaten, but Lloyd’s hands had been around the man’s neck… Glo felt a momentary twinge of regret. Fafnar and his men had just finished insulting the entire town, and they had discovered the soldier following them, spying on them, on Sir Fafnar’s orders. They had left him defenseless on the side of the road, but certainly not on the banks of the river. True, the Dunwynners were rude and obnoxious, but they did not deserve to be beaten and robbed.
Glo glanced at Elladan. The bard appeared equally surprised. The Baron stared back at the Duke, dumbfounded. Lady Gracelynn also appeared shocked. She was the first to respond to the accusation. “There must be some mistake, Kelvick.”
Gryswold finally found his voice. “Just where did you come by this information?”
Kelvick’s tone was indignant. “It is the word of my noble knight, Sir Fafnar here.” He was obviously unaccustomed to having his word questioned.
Gryswold’s expression was clearly skeptical. “Forgive me, but Sir Fafnar has made his disdain for our friends rather well known. Perhaps that has colored his judgment in this matter?”
Fafnar stepped forward, his face a mask of outrage. Kelvick put out an arm, restraining the knight. Fafnar stopped and took a step back. He visibly tried to calm himself.
Kelvick’s entire body had gone rigid. “Baron Gryswold, do you question the honor of one of my knights?”
“I do!” came an angry voice from Glo’s table. He spun around to see Lloyd standing, his face flushed, his hands gripping his sword hilts.
“Ever since this so-called knight of yours met us, he has cast nothing but insults our way. He has questioned our honor and even our right to defend this town. Yet we put all that aside because there
were far more important matters at hand—but no more!” Lloyd kicked his chair back from behind him. “If you want to question the honor of my friends, it shall be at the end of my swords.”
“Lloyd!” Andrella rose from her seat, grabbing the young warrior’s arm.
Elladan, on the other side of Lloyd, also stood, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Sir Fafnar stepped forward again, his own hands straying to his weapon hilts. The Dunwynn guards behind him followed suit. Captain Gelpas and the Ravenford guards, Francis, Relkin, and Carlton, also rose to their feet. Seeing the Dunwynn guards’ reactions, they grasped their weapon hilts as well. Lord Kelvick raised a hand to stay his men. He turned to glare at Lloyd and replied in an imperious tone, “And what gives you the right to question the honor of one of my knights?”
Gryswold stood up. “Kelvick! The House of Stealle is one of the noblest houses in all of Penwick.”
Lloyd glared at the arrogant Sir Fafnar. “I may not be a knight, but as the Baron said, I have the right. Therefore, Sir Fafnar, I challenge you, noble to noble. Let our blades decide who is honorable in this and who is in the wrong.”
“And where better than at the tournament tomorrow?” Elladan quickly interjected.
“Stay out of this, elf,” Kelvick sneered.
Gryswold slammed his fist down on the table. “That is enough! You come into my house and insult my guests, all based on hearsay. I will not stand for it!”
Everyone turned toward the Baron. His face was practically scarlet, his nostrils flaring. Mixed emotions played across Kelvick’s face. It was obvious that the Duke had never been spoken to in such a manner. He appeared to have no idea how to react. Gracelynn quickly stood up next to her husband and took his arm. She spoke in a calm voice. “Gentlemen, this has gone quite far enough. While I do not approve of my brother’s attitude, he does have a right to air his grievances.”