by K. C. Herbel
“Not every noble,” said Billy.
“Well, everyone save Aonghas.”
“No . . .” Billy started, before he realized that he had opened his mouth when he shouldn’t have. He didn’t dare tell Lady Myrredith that he talked with Ergyfel. She’d have a fit.
“What do you mean?” asked Lady Myrredith.
“I . . . Oh, nothin’,” he said, trying to brush it aside. “Tell me about the ceremony.”
“Now William, you must have meant something.” She widened her stance and crossed her arms before resuming. “Was there someone out here with you, that I should know about?”
Billy hid his face by pretending to look across the ward. “Naw.”
“William, you are a terrible liar. Who was it?”
Billy looked at her and started to deny her accusation but found he couldn’t do it.
“Were you out here with a girl, William?” she asked with a smile.
“No,” answered Billy, rolling his eyes.
Billy leaned close to Lady Myrredith, put his hand over his mouth, and mumbled.
“Who?” she asked.
Billy mumbled into his hand again.
“William, I can’t understand what you’re saying with your hand in front of your mouth!”
“You told me to be careful when I said his name.”
Lady Myrredith looked thoughtful for a moment and then suddenly blanched. “He was here?”
Billy nodded.
“Did he see you?”
Billy nodded.
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Yes. We . . . talked for several minutes.”
Lady Myrredith’s eyes widened. “You talked with the magister?”
Billy swallowed. “Aye.”
Lady Myrredith closed her eyes. She straightened and pursed her lips, tilting her head back.
“He even apologized for the troghouls,” said Billy.
Lady Myrredith’s eyes popped open, and she stared at him.
“It’s true! Honest! He apologized to me standing right there.”
Lady Myrredith grabbed Billy’s hand and led him to the donjon. She said nothing until they were in their quarters.
Finally, after a barrage of questions, Billy yielded to Lady Myrredith and relayed the entire conversation between himself and Ergyfel, to the best of his memory. Lady Myrredith paced the room, anxiously listening to Billy and biting her thumbnail.
“And then I think he asked why I was here,” said Billy.
“Why you were outside the church?” asked Lady Myrredith.
“No. I think he was asking why I came to Castle Orgulous.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything. The bells of the chapel rang, and when I turned back around he was gone.”
Lady Myrredith’s brow was tightly knit as she turned away from Billy. She began to bite on her thumbnail again as she stared out the window to the inner ward.
At that moment, there came a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” asked Lady Myrredith.
“It’s Hugh,” came the answer from behind the door.
“Come in.”
“Where have you two been?” asked Sir Hugh as he entered the room. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
“Here,” answered Billy.
“Well, come along. King William has declared that the festivities are to begin now! I know you don’t want to miss any of . . .” Hugh trailed off when he noticed Lady Myrredith’s demeanor. “What is it?” he asked.
Lady Myrredith crossed to Hugh and looked into the hallway before shutting the door. With her back against the door, she began.
“Our William had a very interesting conversation with the magister.”
“What?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“While the rest of us were in church.”
Hugh shot a glance at Billy and then back to Lady Myrredith. “I thought he was with you!” he exclaimed. Then he quickly turned and addressed Billy. “I thought you were with her!”
“No,” answered Lady Myrredith crossing her arms.
“What happened?” asked Sir Hugh.
“Nothing,” said Billy. “We simply . . . talked.”
“I don’t understand why,” said Lady Myrredith, “but he’s somehow interested in William.”
The King’s Champion furrowed his brows and shook his head from side to side. “What could he possibly . . . ? What could Billy . . . ?”
“Don’t you think,” said Billy, “that maybe you two are overreacting a little? I only . . .”
Both Lady Myrredith and Hugh stared incredulously at Billy.
“Fine, fine, so maybe you’re not,” said Billy, retreating a step.
“No,” said Hugh contemplatively, “you may be right.”
“What?” objected Lady Myrredith.
“Maybe we’re meant to overreact . . .” said Sir Hugh raising an eyebrow. “But whatever the case, if we don’t get to the feast soon we are going to be missed, and I’m sure the magister will not overlook the opportunity to make something of it.”
“And maybe we can keep an eye on him too,” added Lady Myrredith.
“Come then,” said Hugh opening the door.
“Stay here, William,” said Lady Myrredith, placing her hand on the knight’s arm.
“No,” said Hugh. “Billy is safer coming with us.”
Lady Myrredith looked at Sir Hugh for a moment and then nodded. “Come along, William, but stay close.”
Billy took Lady Myrredith’s outstretched hand, and the three of them left for the feast. As they emerged from the great donjon, Hugh looked over to the grim-faced lady on his arm.
“Remember,” he whispered, “this is a wedding celebration you attend today, not a funeral.” With that he gave her a smile for encouragement and patted her forearm.
Lady Myrredith put on a smile and took a deep breath in preparation for meeting the day’s challenges
Chapter XVI
The Wedding Feast
The feast was already under way when Lady Myrredith arrived at the inner ward, escorted by Sir Hugh and Billy. As they descended from the donjon, Billy took in the entire feast. The food and revelers were arrayed in front of him like some beautiful painting. It reminded him of the faerie tapestry hanging in his room at Cyndyn Hall. The king, the newlyweds, the ambassador from Gwyddea, and several nobles sat upon a dais at one end of the ward. Below them, across the cobblestone yard, musicians played, jugglers juggled, servants served, and people laughed between bites of food or speech. The air was abuzz with the noises of merriment. While the guests of Orgulous were not fanciful faeries or unicorns and the like, they all looked just as joyous as the faerie king’s court—all, that is, but one: Ergyfel.
Upon noticing their party approach, Ergyfel’s shrewd smile melted to a contemptuous scowl. He was standing on the dais, near the king, talking into the ear of a courtier whose mouth was full of mutton. His shrewd smile returned, and he spread his arms wide in a mockingly emotional greeting. Being the only one with the gall to wear black to the princess’ wedding, his actions caught the attention of most everyone. Billy felt uncomfortable as the feasters shifted their focus to where the magister was looking.
“Ah, at last!” said Ergyfel, grinning. “Nothing to worry about. Just as I predicted—they would be along any moment—and here they are!”
Billy noticed Hugh tense, and his hand wander casually over the bone handle of his dagger, but he never missed a step. He proudly escorted Lady Myrredith to the front of the dais, indifferent to all the attention.
“Your Majesty,” said Hugh with a bow to his king.
Lady Myrredith and Billy likewise bowed.
King William had a small coughing fit and then recognized the new arrivals. “Sir Hugh, Lady Myrredith . . . boy,” wheezed the king, gesturing with his right hand.
Billy wondered if that counted as being introduced to the king. He hoped there
might be more to it than a simple, dangling “boy.” Perhaps he could say a word or two or just tell the king his name, but he didn’t feel like this was a good time to question Lady Myrredith on court etiquette.
Sir Hugh rose and escorted them across the long dais. Billy was looking for a spot for them to sit down in the crowd when Lady Myrredith tugged on his hand, and he found himself being dragged up to the dais. His stomach sank as he realized Sir Hugh was leading them to three empty chairs to the right of Princess Kathryn—not far from the king himself.
No, thought Billy. This can’t be!
Billy looked back over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the throng for a cozy, empty, anonymous spot that he could just slip into. There wasn’t a single vacant seat in the ward. Up on the dais everyone could see him, and while he didn’t mind attracting attention when he was juggling or singing, he abhorred the thought of having this huge audience watch him eat. At that moment, his considerable appetite vanished.
“William?”
Billy turned and saw Lady Myrredith waiting at the end of the table.
“What is it, William?” she asked.
Billy didn’t know what to say, so he just shook his head.
“Come along then,” said Lady Myrredith with a smile. “We’re sitting next to Princess Kathryn!”
Billy numbly nodded and followed her. If he were to tell anyone from the Valley of the Yew that he sat with the princess and king in Castle Orgulous, they would call him the biggest liar since the devil himself.
A servant seated Billy with Lady Myrredith on his left and Sir Hugh on his right. Once again he scanned the enormous crowd that filled the inner ward. Everywhere he looked, shiny silks and rare gems dangling from elaborate jewelry greeted his eyes. Nobles, nobles, nobles, as far as the eye could see, still arrayed in their best wedding clothes, being waited upon hand and foot by pampering, attentive servants and entertained by a dozen performers. Billy spotted Don Miguel among the performers and made eye contact before the Spaniard disappeared into a band of dancing acrobats. All was a dazzling swirl of color and light. Billy began to relax when he saw that the revelers were far too busy feasting and otherwise celebrating to be concerned with his insignificant part in these events.
Billy’s appetite returned the instant a servant placed a thick slice of ham next to some vegetables on his plate. The smell entered his nose, and his grumbling stomach reminded him just how hungry he was. It seemed like years since he had eaten. He became so excited that he grabbed the meat with his hand. Before he could take a bite, a pain shot up his left leg, from the shin. He looked to his left and saw Lady Myrredith take a bite of carrot very deliberately from her fork. Billy froze for a moment, watching his patron slowly spear her ham and cut off a tiny, bite-size piece with her knife. He then sheepishly put the ham back on his plate.
“Sorry,” Billy muttered under his breath.
Billy didn’t know what had gotten into him. Even before Lady Myrredith had taken the time to teach him proper eating etiquette, his father had shown him basic knife and fork manners—garnered from noble guests at his inn. So while most of Lyonesse and indeed the known world ate from trenchers with their fingers, Billy had to practice the strange customs of the local nobility.
At first it seemed like a waste of time, but good manners were important to his father. After all, their little corner of Lyonesse wasn’t completely isolated, and The Valley’s Finest Inn was, in John’s words, “no Irish cave!” In the end, it had been the “way knights eat” argument that won him over.
Billy picked up his utensils and started to eat in proper Cyndyn style. As the first savory bites of ham reached his mouth, he wondered if the prince from Gwyddea used a fork and knife the same way that he was taught. He cautiously leaned forward and looked down the table. Next to Lady Myrredith was Princess Kathryn and beyond that, her new husband. Billy quietly observed as the sire of his nation’s future rulers worked his utensils. Shortly, Billy concluded that while the young royal seemed familiar with the knife, the fork must have been of relatively new acquaint. Billy smiled to himself and dug into his dinner, comforted by the idea that he was no worse off than the future king, at least when it came to manipulating food on his plate.
After a few more bites, Billy decided to get another look at the foreign prince. Again he was cautious as he leaned forward, taking some small sugar-candies from a plate across the table. He turned his head to face down the table to his left and came eye to eye with King William. Instantly Billy sat up straight in his chair and hid behind Lady Myrredith. He shoved the candy into one of his front pockets then waited for a moment before risking another look. As before, he found the king looking his way. He threw himself back in his chair and sat at attention.
Why is the king looking at me? Did I do something wrong? Were those candies the king’s? Maybe I shouldn’t have used my hand again.
Billy looked down at his hand. It was clean. He took stock of his whole person. Nothing seemed out of place. His clothes were on straight. Neither hands nor face were smeared with food. Billy was stumped. His curiosity mounted, until he had to take another look at the king.
Billy found that when he looked again, the dark figure of Ergyfel was leaning over King William. The king said something to Ergyfel that caused the sorcerer to cock an eyebrow and look in Billy’s direction. Again, as during the wedding, when they made eye contact, Billy felt strangely uncomfortable. The magister bowed slightly to King William and turned away from the table. Billy watched him as he walked to the side of the dais and motioned to a darkly dressed man with a tall hat. Billy recognized him as the same man he had observed with Ergyfel on their arrival at Castle Orgulous.
“I wonder what they’re up to,” mused Sir Hugh.
Billy looked at his knightly companion. Hugh was staring over Billy’s shoulder. Billy followed his gaze to Ergyfel.
“The magister?” asked Billy, turning back to Hugh.
“Aye,” Hugh said with a nod, “and his wretched brother.”
At that moment it dawned on Billy that Sir Hugh had probably been watching the suspicious vizier the entire time.
“His brother?” asked Billy, surprised.
“Half brother,” answered Hugh. “He has no claim to the throne, but he’s no less dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” said Billy, as he observed the targets of Hugh’s intense stare.
“Aye . . . and I can’t keep an eye on Sygeon if I’m watching you-know-who.”
“Sygeon?” whispered Billy to himself. Why does that name sound familiar? Billy scratched his head and looked at the two men, dressed dark as crows. I know I’ve heard that name before, but where?
Abruptly the two half brothers turned and walked in opposite directions—Sygeon away from the dais, and Ergyfel directly back to the king’s table. The magister stopped to whisper in the king’s ear and then continued. Billy and Hugh turned back to face the table.
“Well, I’d like to know . . .” said Billy.
“What would you like to know?” asked a low, sonorous voice from behind him.
Billy froze as a long thin hand snaked down onto his shoulder. Its touch was icy, even through Billy’s new clothes. Billy turned his eyes to the pale fingers. It was a well-manicured hand with a stunning gold ring on the middle finger, much like the one Lady Myrredith wore, only much larger. Around the long fingernails, Billy detected traces of yellow and purple stains. He followed the hand until his eyes fell on the midnight black of the owner’s sleeve. Billy swallowed hard.
“Well, my young friend . . . ?” asked the voice.
Billy didn’t remember what he had been asked. “I don’t know, Magister,” he managed to say.
“What do you want, Ergyfel?” asked Lady Myrredith.
“I thought perhaps the boy would like to know that King William has asked me to introduce him.”
Billy spun around in his seat. “He did?”
“Why yes,” hissed Ergyfel, “but before I can properly perform my duty . . .
” He glanced at Lady Myrredith and cleared his throat. “I must know something more about you.”
Hugh placed his hand on Billy and squeezed to get his attention. Billy looked away from Ergyfel to Hugh. Hugh was silent, but the message in his eyes was loud and clear: Be wary!
“Your name is William?” asked Ergyfel.
“Yes,” answered Lady Myrredith.
“Thank you. I will accept answers from the boy himself, Your Ladyship,” said Ergyfel.
King William’s First Counselor was speaking most politely, but even Billy could sense the threatening undertone to his words. He looked up and saw the magister was still waiting for his answer.
“Yes,” said Billy, “but I’ve already met the king, ya know.”
“You did?” said the magister doubtfully.
“Aye. Right after the wedding, I sort of fell down and . . .”
“Oh yes . . . that,” said Ergyfel, “That was not a proper introduction for a wedding guest seated at this table. Now, your name is William . . . nothing more?”
“No, just William, but mostly I’m called Billy.”
“Yes, I remember. And your father . . . ?”
“Just John.”
“John the Just?” asked Ergyfel with a cocked eyebrow.
Billy and Hugh laughed, and then Billy said, “No, just John, the innkeeper.”
“An innkeeper,” Ergyfel repeated mechanically. “Your father is an innkeeper?”
“Yes,” said Billy.
Ergyfel rolled his eyes and glanced at Lady Myrredith and Hugh disparagingly.
Billy felt that he should add something to his father’s description. “My father owns The Valley’s Finest Inn.”
“Yes, yes. I’m sure it’s very nice.”
Hugh laughed again. Billy and his inquisitor looked at him.
“Well, is there something wrong with this inn?” asked Ergyfel.
“No, you pompous . . .” said Hugh under his breath. “That’s the name of the inn, Ergyfel—The Valley’s Finest!”
“Oh . . . I see,” said Ergyfel. “How quaint. And just where is The Valley’s Finest Inn?”
