Even as they all bowed to welcome the elven royalty, the household staff bustled to reorganize the head table. Duke Richard moved down to permit the elven king to sit alongside King William, while Prince Brightblade was placed between Queen Beatrice and Lord Rorrick.
Alaric swept into the room, clothed in a swirl of silver silk with a dark green embroidered ivy pattern. On his head rode the golden band of his office, which bore a single large emerald the size of a pigeon egg on the center of his brow. Behind him strode Prince Brightblade identically clad in silver and green with the silver band of his rank around his head with its smaller emerald.
"Your Majesty, forgive us for being tardy but we had a bit of trouble passing your security screen. Our compliments on your guards; they are unusually alert.” King Alaric was smiling as he spoke. “We heard you had come by to see our friend, Duke Richard, and we just had to come pay our respects. Especially since we could also see our grandson, Rorrick."
The crowd gasped as this statement registered. The heir was part elf! They looked up to see what the king would say.
Duke Richard, as host of the gathering, spoke first, “Welcome to you, King Alaric. It has been a very long time since you have been in this hall."
"The hall seems dimmer without Duchess Bridget or your daughter, Abigail, even though the radiance of Queen Beatrice shines among us tonight,” King Alaric responded.
"Yet the presence of the Lords of the Forest adds a greater luster to this feast than would otherwise be felt. Welcome to you both. Come, join us at table!” King William said, gesturing for King Alaric to sit beside him and for Prince Brightblade to join Queen Beatrice.
Once again, the head table was seated and the guests also resumed their seats. With a fanfare of horns, the doors from the kitchens opened and a line of servers appeared. The first three pairs carried the large platforms upon which rested one of the three massive boars brought in by General Gustav and Swiftstalker. The next sixteen servers carried platters piled with venison, grouse, rabbit, duck, and quail. Others followed carrying bowls of potatoes, yams, various vegetables, and assortments of nuts and fruits. Once the promenade of the bounty had circled the room, the king stood and said, “Let the feast be served!"
As the serving staff began distributing the food, the assembled guests began to converse with their neighbors at the tables. While some discussed local events, others spoke about the banquet thus far. Still more wondered what lofty conversations were taking place at the head table. The kings were talking together, as were the dukes. The queen and the elven prince were in deep discussion, while young Lord Rorrick and Lord Swiftstalker were entertaining Lady Bethany, the queen's lady-in-waiting.
Each member of the head table was served before the others, getting their choice of the best cuts. King William consumed large amounts of everything, while Queen Beatrice ate sparingly of some of the quail. The elves partook sparingly of the meat dishes but ate heartily of the fruits, vegetables, and breads.
"Prince Brightblade, do not the Lords of the Forest eat meat?” asked Queen Beatrice.
"Some do, Your Majesty, while others among us refrain. It has to do with the level of our ability to work the forces of life. Those of us who can feel the forces deeply know the feelings of the higher orders of life. Once you have been inside the mind and heart of a stag, it is hard to consume his flesh,” the prince explained. “However, do not think we look askance at those who do eat meat. Even among the Fair Folk, there are those who enjoy a hearty slab of venison or boar. Observe Lord Swiftstalker. If his platter held any more food, we would worry whether the table itself might collapse under the sheer weight of it."
"Some of us worked up an appetite hunting this food for the table, oh Prince,” replied Lord Swiftstalker between bites. “One of these boars tried very hard to make me his meal so I relish the justice of our present positions."
Rory was awed by the position he was now in. Dining at the head table with two kings, one queen, one prince, two dukes, a lady-in-waiting, a general and another elf! Never in his wildest dreams did such an event ever occur. As much as he wanted to speak with his father, he was rightly concentrating on the queen. Unfortunately, each time he glanced toward the young lady-in-waiting on his other side, his gaze was drawn to the amazing display down her plunging bodice. Rory had only known one woman before coming to the keep and that was his mother—and even then, he had known her as his grandmother! He had never seen so much bare skin in his life, and the view was making it very hard for him to breathe. As he glanced up from his last visual foray down Lady Bethany's creamy bosom, Rory's eyes locked with Lord Swiftstalker's. The smirk that crossed the elven lord's face showed he knew exactly where Rory had been looking. There was no doubt in his mind that his weapons master would have some pithy comments to make later on, and at a moment of maximum embarrassment for Rory.
Making sure his gaze was on her face, he asked, “Have you been with the queen for long, Lady Bethany?"
Bethany dabbed at her mouth with her linen napkin, then turned to face Rory. “No, Lord Rorrick, I joined the queen's service only three months ago. Since I was the youngest, I requested to make this trip to spare some of the older women the rigors of travel."
Rory could barely hear her words when she discussed the trip as he was falling deep into her sea-green eyes. Her heart-shaped face was framed by waves of hair the color of burnished copper, which was gathered at the nape of her slender neck in an ornate silver clasp. There was a delicate dusting of faint freckles across the bridge of her pert nose. She was, he decided, enchanting.
"Did I hear you say you are the youngest of the ladies-in-waiting?” Swiftstalker asked. “How young are you, if I may ask?"
She turned her head to Swiftstalker as she replied, “I just turned seventeen, my lord.” Rory caught his breath and took a deep sip of his wine to clear his mind.
"Then you are of an age with Lord Rorrick then. He will soon be seventeen himself,” Swiftstalker said.
Turning back to Rory, Lady Bethany said, “Is it true you have been living in the Great Forest, Lord Rorrick?"
"Yes, along with my mother. After her death, I was united with my grandfather,” Rory replied. “I found this keep a bit overwhelming. I cannot imagine what it must be like in Aluria at the court."
"I know what you mean. Our estate is smaller than the Duchy of Westfell and I was not prepared for the differences at the court and Aluria.” She sipped her wine. “I wanted to go back home but my service had been promised to the queen since I was a young girl, and I could not dishonor my family. It is another reason I asked to come on this trip; to get away from the press of so many people."
"What is it a lady-in-waiting does?” Rory asked. “Aside from waiting."
Bethany smiled at his small joke. “I am a companion and chaperone for the queen. I keep her company for the most part and am responsible for keeping her sewing basket organized. I know it sounds silly, but it really does take some work to keep all the threads free of tangles so she can embroider without fussing with them. When she wants to be read to, I do so. Should she wish a song, I sing or play the lute for her. And, if she should have a male visitor, I am there to protect her reputation."
"Was this what my mother was doing when she was at the court?” Rory asked.
"I imagine it was, Lord Rorrick,” Swiftstalker said. “It is a common practice for young women of noble houses to spend a season or two at court in this capacity. Not only does it provide companions for the queen, it also permits the young women to meet many of the eligible noblemen to see if there is one who might be suitable to become her husband. Free of many of the strictures, they can flirt with the men and are then much more likely to settle down in an arranged marriage."
"That is correct, Lord Swiftstalker. It is through these contacts that the noble houses make alliances by marriage,” Bethany said. “My own father is hoping I attract the eye of someone or I risk becoming an old maid."
"No, fair lady, you will never be
an old maid. As I recall, the new Duke of Eastfell is also about sixteen or seventeen. He will need a wife soon. That makes two of the largest duchies in search of a bride. And that, I think, is another reason the queen selected you to make this journey; to see whether you and young Rorrick or you and the new Duke of Eastfell would make a good match. Your queen is a wise and intelligent woman who does nothing without a reason. That is true of every noblewoman but especially those of the Great Houses and the crown."
"And what of noblemen, Lord Swiftstalker?” Bethany teased.
"Ah, lass, noblemen are just like every other man. Give them a woman's touch, a place to sleep, food and drink, and something to do that means something to them, and they are content.” Swiftstalker laughed. “One of these years, even I might find myself a fine elven maid to spend a century or two talking about this and that."
Lady Bethany giggled quietly then she said, “I pity the maid who tries to settle you down, Lord Swiftstalker of the Forest. In the short time I have been in Westfell, I have heard plenty of stories about you and the some of the serving wenches."
"Believe every word of them, my lady. Only know this, the reality far surpasses the tales!"
"What did you think of Eastfell, Lady Bethany?” Rory asked.
"I found the duchy well disciplined, but the people seemed quite subdued, which I attribute to the death of their duke. I found the keep quite drafty and unkempt, unlike this beautiful one here. The new duke is a pimply-faced youth given to temper tantrums with no sense of decorum. He tried very hard to get me to kiss him and made it very plain he would enjoy further liberties, as well. I did not care much for him at all."
"Well, lass, I can understand his desire, even if I do not approve of his style,” Lord Swiftstalker said. “You are a very pretty woman, Lady Bethany. Don't you agree, Lord Rorrick?"
Rory nodded his head as he said, “Very much. I must assume the new Duke of Eastfell is a fool for anyone can see that you are a chaste and modest woman of good repute. It would be a crime to sully your name."
* * * *
Armand, Duke of Kendrahl, turned to Duke Richard and said, “They make a fine couple."
"Who does?"
"Your heir and the Lady Bethany. You know that's why Queen Beatrice brought her along."
"He's much too young!"
"And you are much too old, my friend. Westfell needs him wedded, bedded, and with an heir before long. And if you don't consider Lady Bethany, recall that Eastfell is even more eagerly searching for a bride for the new young duke."
Duke Richard sipped his wine, the tart bite matched his mood. “You speak sense, although I am loathe to admit it. I just found the lad and we've only started training him for the role he must fill one day. Must we add a wife to the mix so soon?” Richard stared across the table to where Rory and the girl in question were seated and watched their interaction. A smile crossed his face as he noticed how attracted Rory was to the girl and, if Richard's experience was any basis to judge, she seemed just as interested in him.
"What do you know about the girl, Armand?"
"She's the only daughter of Earl Sudcliffe, the king's chancellor. She just turned seventeen and has been at court for less than three months. Her reputation is beyond reproach and she has not been given to flirtations with the young men at court. She is educated beyond most of her class, sings, plays the lute, and has obviously wrapped your grandson around her ... ah, finger."
"Why do I suspect the fine hand of the queen in this? I don't mean just the girl's presence; I mean the fact that you are the one presenting this to me."
"You think that because you are both a fine tactician and a shrewd judge of character.” Armand laughed. “Plus, you and I have known each other for almost fifty years and I have never been able to fool you in all that time."
"So what happens now?"
"Nothing much publicly. However, if your heir and the girl suit one another, then in a few months, there will be a formal announcement of their engagement. When Lord Rorrick turns eighteen, they can be wed. That will give you a little over a year to work on his training and for them to get to know one another. You are planning on coming to court in the spring, are you not?"
"To be honest, I hadn't planned to, but I guess now I will have no choice,” Duke Richard muttered.
"One always has a choice, my friend,” Armand said as he lifted his cup.
* * * *
King William looked long at the elven king. “Your pardon, Your Majesty, but we must wonder what truly brings you here tonight."
Alaric smiled. “We have heard that you are plain spoken, Your Majesty, so let's speak plainly without all the titles and other trappings in the way. I came here to make sure you do not hold young Rory's heritage against him."
"Why in the All-Father's name would I do that? Alaric, while I may not have had much contact with your people, I hold them in the highest respect. I regard Rorrick's elven blood as an asset to him, the duchy, and the realm,” King William said. “I have already confirmed him as heir."
"Did you really have a choice, William? He is the sole remaining descendant of the present duke and, unless you wanted open civil strife in this prosperous duchy, you had to confirm him. The real question was what you felt privately.” King Alaric sipped his wine, made a face, and asked the steward for two empty glasses. When they arrived, he reached inside his great cloak and extracted a bottle of wine. He poured a glass for both himself and King William. “Be careful, William, this elven wine could spoil all others for you."
King William took a small sip and it was like drinking liquid sunshine. The bouquet was of spring flowers and freshly cut grass with just a hint of the buzzing of bees. It sent a pleasant warmth throughout his body and gave him a burst of energy and optimism.
"My word! That is quite ... exceptional.” King William sipped again, and smiled.
"I am so pleased you like it. I will have some sent to you at Aluria,” Alaric said as he watched William take another sip. “So how do you feel privately about the boy?"
"I like him. If all goes well, I want to see him wed to that pretty girl by his side. I hope his elven blood gives him a longer life, which will mean a stable Duchy of Westfell for years to come.” King William eyed his glass. “Seems your wine has an interesting side effect."
"Yes, nice, isn't it? It's impossible to tell an untruth while drinking it.” King Alaric sipped his own glass. “That's why it's banned at all elven councils."
* * * *
Queen Beatrice was fascinated by the handsome and dashing Prince Brightblade. She said, “Prince Brightblade, we have never before met any of the Lords of the Forest. Are you all so handsome?"
The prince chuckled, “No, Your Majesty. Some of us are quite plain. Look at Lord Swiftstalker. He's an ugly elf."
"Now we know you jest with us! He's quite a handsome fellow,” the queen responded gaily.
"I will admit the ladies seem to find him attractive enough, at that. He never seems to want for feminine companionship."
Her face serious again, Queen Beatrice said, “How we miss Abigail. What can you tell us of her life in the Great Forest?"
"She lived simply, just her and Rory. She spent her days working with her flowers and teaching the boy things she thought he should know."
"How did you two meet?"
"I found her shortly after she entered the Great Forest. I knew who she was, of course, since our families have been in contact in the past. We sat and talked about what had befallen her. I led her to the clearing and arranged for her cabin to be built. Over time, we grew to care for one another a great deal. When young Rory was born, she was afraid there might be some stigma attached to his elven blood and to her own, so she chose to make him believe he was a foundling and that she was merely a kindly old woman who had taken him in.” The prince paused. “Out of respect for her wishes, I stopped seeing them both, although I kept a close watch over them. Whenever Rory would roam away from the cabin, I would usually follow to
make sure nothing happened to him. That is why I was not near the cabin the day the soldiers killed her; I was watching over Rory."
Queen Beatrice reached out and touched his hand. “I loved her, too."
"She knew that and she understood why you had to use her the way you did, although she was deeply hurt by it. Had you asked her, she would have willingly done it for you. She was only hurt because you didn't trust her enough to ask. That became one of her lessons for Rory, too. That royalty will always do what they think suits the realm, regardless of who else gets hurt in the process."
"Doe he not trust us then?” the queen asked.
"Young Rory trusts everyone. In that respect, she failed to corrupt him. Only time and disillusionment will break him of trusting the way he does."
"Will you be staying here at Westfell for long, Prince?"
"No, Your Majesty. As much as I would like to spend some time with Rory, I believe we will depart soon after this banquet concludes. I believe my father's business with your husband is finished."
"That is a shame. Perhaps you will come to see us at the court in Aluria some day,” the queen said. “We would like that."
"It would be my honor to visit your court, Your Majesty."
* * * *
As the feast came to an end, King William and King Alaric, accompanied by Duke Richard and Duke Armand, Prince Brightblade and General Gustav, went to the library to talk. Lord Swiftstalker disappeared on some amorous adventure of his own, leaving Rory to escort the queen and Lady Bethany to their chambers. When they reached the queen's door, she dismissed Lady Bethany for the night saying she was fatigued and heading straight for bed.
Lady Bethany's chamber was just down the hall, but as they reached the door, Rory suddenly asked whether she would enjoy seeing the stars from the battlement heights. She looked at him shyly for a moment and then nodded her head in acquiescence.
Bethany threaded her arm through his as they walked the corridors of the keep until they reached the doorway out onto the battlements. This particular vantage point overlooked the entire valley and town below the keep. It was above the normal torch line, so the area was black as could be. The stars overhead glittered in the thousands as there was no moon to overshadow them.
The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1] Page 6