After their horses and supplies had been unloaded, George promptly mounted his horse and shouted, "Adieu!"
Pepe, of course, said the traditional and formal way of saying goodbye, ending it with the all too old fashioned, "God bless you and keep you." He bowed with utmost formality.
D'arcy snorted and just waved. She ordered the plank raised and they pushed off the dock, threatening to ram into the side of another ship. Just in time the woman at the helm turned the huge ship, getting out in front of the other ship with room to spare. Show off, thought George with a smile.
"So...Ó he said as the pirate ship disappeared around the gate to the outer city. "Where to?" he asked.
"To the Knight's Compound in the core, of course," said Pepe, mounting his horse with a buoyant grin.
"You seem happy today," George stated.
"I should be. She will be there," the squire replied.
"Ah," said George. "So we finally meet the mystery lady. Who else will be there?"
"The Emperor I suspect," said Pepe. "It was him that insisted that we find you and bring you back."
"This might be an interesting day," George mumbled to himself. There was a sudden queasiness in his stomach, something like stage fright, but in his case perhaps worse.
Both good and bitter memories seemed to flood back to George as he entered the familiar surroundings. They were haunting memories, full of love, quarrel and disagreement, all apparently jumping as in ambush from the dark corridor through which George and Pepe walked. They were memories he'd forgotten he had, and he loathed to remember them.
If the Emperor was indeed here, so would the bureaucrats, the courtiers, the nobles with smug up turned noses and chins and fancy clothes. But then George remembered someone important who would almost surely be here to see George. She'd be the worst of what was yet to come.
Lady Rosita!
Oh no! Not her! George tried to banish the thought, thinking of something else, but that only made the memories of George's only real lover come back to him in firmer, clearer images. Please Lord, not her!
Way back when George was thirty-two, he and Rosita had been a couple. She had been one of the few women back then that had military training, now training was considered to be almost a private club among the nobility. They had gone everywhere together, but soon major steps were taken in George's own training and he became involved in the sometimes deadly process of gaining experience. When next he saw her, he was reputed to be the greatest swordsman in the world, said to be able to take on a small army and win. that was when the bitterness had started, George had boasted foolishly, and she seemed determined to disagree with everything he said.
Finally Rosita had embarrassed both him and herself in public, because of an argument about what the government was doing. Claimed it to be his fault, because he wanted to be released from his vows. The more important blow was when she said she never wanted to see him again. That was the day George left for Windpeak.
She wouldn't be here to ask forgiveness for her rashness twenty years ago, but probably to gloat and mock George. He wagered there were also a great number of rumours about him already. Nothing good ever came from rumours, thought the knight.
Pavolians loved ceremony and Emperor Bo'ston took it to extremes. George could hear the trumpet fanfare announcing his arrival. Even though the door was closed the sound coming through it was tremendous. The old Emperor is probably getting hard of hearing.
He was poorly dressed for a social gathering by Pavolian terms. He was wearing a dark, dirt stained green homespun tunic, dirt covered traveling cloak with moth holes in it, and then his armour was badly in need of a polish. His leather riding boots were scuffed and there was a hole where his big toe was peaking out. but then again, what did he care? They had summoned him, and had made no mention of him bringing his finest doublet and hose. Not that he had any up in a cold place like Windpeak or could fit into a pair anyway.
The door opened, and there was an expectant silence as the people within waited. Pepe nudged George forward. There were a few snickers from a group of courtiers along one wall when George stepped into the light.
The room was lined with columns down each side. huge stained glass windows depicting famous battles lined the right wall. The room was filled with people, a few George recognized, and a few he didn't want to recognize, and at the end of the great room with it's cathedral-like ceiling was the royal family standing on a dais, looking very much like gods with the stained sunlight coming through the windows.
George's eyes riveted back to the glass windows. Their tortured faces, their bloodstained tears... He remembered very clearly why he had left, and turned to face the snickering courtiers. He felt very mean and vengeful suddenly as he summoned the courage to speak. "If you wish to comment, then speak up or shut up!" he said loudly for all to hear. The fact that his hand had went to his sword was noticed by all.
The snickering ended and a few red faced courtiers looked from George's sword to the nearest exit.
The knight sensed that Pepe was still lurking in the corridor, and turned around to face the young squire. "Come along, Pepe. Surely you don't want to miss this opportunity to meet the Emperor?" he asked in a whisper. Pepe walked forward to join the knight, his face showed he was struggling to keep calm.
Calmly, George turned back to face the Emperor, and strode forward. Pepe followed at his side. He tried not to look at the rows of spectators, that way he wouldn't see Rosita. He wasn't ready to see her yet.
"Now listen lad," whispered George, concentrating on the Emperor's shiny crown at the far end of the chamber. "I need a squire at the moment, would you mind if I introduced you as my squire?"
Pepe was still too Pavolian to let his astonishment show. "Yes, milord," he replied earnestly.
When they finally reached the dais George was a bit out of breath and more than happy to kneel. "Your imperialness's, you honour me with your divine presence, and humble me with your greatness," he said. The speech was flowery and the knight detested it because it was a lie. Emperor Bo'ston was a sickly old man with no teeth and looked so delicate and withered that the slightest breeze would blow him over and put him out of his misery. His eldest son, Prince Bo'ston the Second stood cheerfully, looking at his father as if wishing a sudden draft would finish the old man off. his only daughter Jessica stood prettily, staring at the ceiling for no apparent reason unless she was admiring the architecture, and the youngest prince, Reginald, stood looking at his sister's hair mischievously, apparently thinking a knot would look good right there.
The Emperor rambled pleasantries, introduced his children, who respectfully bowed in turn, first to George and again to Bo'ston to show who was supreme. Finally he asked George to introduce his friend.
This is my squire, Pepe of Pavol, your majesties, who Archknight Lord Marel Trainic sent to summon me and who I've just recently taken under my wing as my squire, since Pepe has the misfortune to have no lord," George said flowery, noting the Emperor's eyes grow taut for a mere moment as he shrewdly thought over the actual words and implications of the knight's statement.
Pepe bowed low before them, and returned to his proper place behind George. The old knight wondered if Pepe had reversed this just in case but dismissed the thought, knowing all Pavolians knew what was considered proper and what was not.
"A sad and grievous turn of events," Bo'ston nodded, saying it in a whisper. "My daughter is an excellent hostess, and if you will, we have readied rooms for you at the palace where you may rest, and enjoy the finer luxuries after such a long journey."
Damn! Right into the lion's den, where the bureaucrats roam wildly, doing whatever they please. George was so preoccupied thinking about going to the palace that he missed seeing Lady Rosita watching him closely.
The apartment that George and Pepe received was extravagantly decorated, and had an almost blissful atmosphere. George didn't care much for architecture and so promptly fell asleep the moment he lay down on his bed. Princess Jessica showed Pepe around so far as to almost get lost wandering from room to room staring at the paintings, murals, occasional statue, and, of course, the architecture on the ceiling.
When George awoke he discovered his belongings unpacked, and in orderly fashion in a dresser, his violin case upon a table in the next room. In the closet he found a whole new wardrobe and several new pairs of boots.
Taking off his armour and dirt stained clothes, George tried on the new clothes and boots. Once dressed he took out his violin and went out onto the balcony which over looked the park like gardens, and neatly trimmed lawns. Slowly he began to play.
The music started out joyously, and dipped down into period of melancholy. Then a period of contentment and finally one of uncertainness full of broken notes and unending misery. Their tortured faces, their bloodstained tears.
"Come on, George," said Pepe. "The banquet started a half hour ago."
"Good, then it's half over," George replied, relaxing in a chair tuning the violin in his lap.
"You don't want to go?"
"There are people there I don't even want to see, so why go?" George asked.
"Funny, I'd have thought you'd want to see some of your old comrades in arms," Pepe said slyly.
George weighed seeing Rosita to seeing old friends, knowing that he could get some information out of them that he wasn't getting from Pepe, and finally decided to go. "If they're not there lad the second I march in, I'll march right though the banquet hall and out the door at the far end," George warned Pepe.
Oh, no! Lady Rosita was standing right in the doorway, probably so she could intercept George on his way in. it would work too, George would have to stop to say excuse me and she'd start talking. he considered faking a heart attack, but from the way george's heart was thumping he probably wouldn't need to fake it.
My she does look beautiful though! Like a fine wine, Rosita appeared to have become sweeter with age, though she had long since lost that snap of youth. Short brown hair, doe eyes and that charming smile, but George knew that those eyes were like daggers and her mouth razor sharp.
Pepe nudged him, and the knight realized he was stalling. And staring. He walked forward stoically and said, "Excuse me Madame."
Rosita stepped to the side and started to open her mouth. George saw Princess Jessica, who was staring at the ceiling once again and immediately kneeled before the Princess. "Your majesty, may I offer my squire and myself as humble protection for your divineness," he said flowery.
Startled, Jessica glanced at Pepe and George. "You may, and God bless you for your consideration," she said, apparently almost as bored as George was with the damn flowery speech that the Emperor insisted on. "Please escort me to my seat," she said, staring at the ceiling again.
Pepe offered her his arm and she took it tentatively. George crossed his arms behind his back as the sign of guardian, and followed, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
After they had escorted the Princess to her seat, Pepe was grinning from ear to ear. This was obviously the highlight of his life. A retainer showed George and Pepe to a place of honour, where they waited for the banquet to begin.
George groaned, remembering some of the formalities of banquets. "You see lad, a banquet never starts on time, about ten people are always late and they won't start without them. Besides, the main purpose of a banquet is to socialize. You do more standing around and talking gossip more than eating," George explained, relaxing in the comforts of his chair.
Pepe nodded, understanding. "But if people know that the banquet won't start until about half a hour after it's scheduled, won't they wait until half a hour later before they come, so as to not get bored waiting?"
"Makes sense lad, but as I already said, people actually come early just to get a head start on the gossip. In a realer sense the banquet has started, it's just that the meal doesn't come for about a hour."
"Ah, so this should almost be called a gossip hall and not a banquet hall?"
"Aye," agreed George. "That's why the food at the banquet is always so poor. People are always too busy talking to notice what they're eating. I'd go talk to the kitchen staff, but I don't have the time and wouldn't want to embarrass them."
Pepe laughed.
"In the mean time, why don't you go up to my room and bring back my violin? I have a feeling it's going to be awhile before I have an audience again."
Moving the court musicians out of the way so George could have the dais all to himself was a simple matter of placing a hand on the hilt of his sword and watching them scamper away. Several knights laughed and a group of nobles looked aghast at what the knight had just done. But their thoughts and many others changed as George began to play.
The court musicians hid when they were but amateurs compared to George. The music flowed throughout the banquet hall, making everyone stop and wonder where the wondrous music came from. Princess Jessica quit staring at the ceiling and turned to listen to George play.
When he reached the finale, he played a more exciting version of a famous ballad, almost considered an anthem among the Pavolians. soon everyone could not resist tapping their feet. When he finally quit there were quite a few disappointed faces. One baron remarked that George had missed his true calling.