by Dean Cadman
“Sir, I’d like to thank you for what you did for us. For all of us,” she said turning towards the other people in the crowd. “May I ask your name, sir? So I may tell my daughter who it was that saved her life when she is older.” The crowd became deathly silent, all waiting for Lusam’s reply, and the woman’s trembling seemed to increase with every heartbeat he didn’t respond. He smiled at the young woman, hoping to ease her anxiousness, even though he was feeling more than a little anxious himself.
“My name is Lusam, and you don’t need to be scared of me,” Lusam replied to the young woman, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She flinched as he raised his hand towards her, but to her credit she never moved. Lusam could feel her trembling under his touch, and he felt very guilty for causing such a reaction, even though he had done nothing to warrant it as far as he knew. She managed a nervous smile at him, then averted her eyes and bowed her head.
“Sir, may I beg a Guardian’s blessing for my child?” she half whispered through her fear. Lusam suddenly realised why the people of Lamuria looked at him the way they did; they believed him to be an actual Guardian.
He knew the Guardians of old had been practically revered amongst the people of Afaraon. They had held almost godlike status amongst the population back then, and their legend had only grown since. Most people never got to see Aysha in their lifetimes, but everyone was able to see the Guardians back then. Renn’s words echoed in Lusam’s mind, about people believing in only what they could see, and wondered exactly what was going through the minds of these people, as well as everyone else’s in Lamuria right now. He needed to stop these rumours, and quickly, before they took a firm hold within the population.
“What’s your name?” Lusam asked the woman softly.
“Ella, sir,” she replied, still averting her eyes from Lusam’s.
“Please, look at me, Ella,” Lusam said, and waited until she raised her eyes to meet his. “I am not a Guardian, do you understand?”
“But, sir… I don’t understand, we all saw what you did out there to that Empire army,” Ella said, looking towards the southern wall of the city and the valley beyond.
“That was only my magic,” Lusam replied, as if that would be enough to explain away the things he had done.
“Forgive me, sir, but everyone knows that all magic comes from the grace of Aysha herself, and those she favoured the most were once the Guardians. That was why they held such incredible power, just as you do now, sir,” Ella replied, once more averting her eyes from Lusam’s. Lusam took a deep breath and held it for a moment, before sighing it out again. There was no way he could explain to these people that he held only a fraction of the power of a true Guardian, let alone how he acquired that power. He thought the best thing he could do right now, was to continue denying he was a Guardian, and hope that once they eventually left Lamuria behind, life would once again return to normal—something he was beginning to doubt would ever be possible again.
“I am not a Guardian,” he repeated, slightly louder so the crowd would hear his words. Ella simply bowed her head, but Lusam knew he had not convinced her or a single person in the crowd, let alone the rest of the city who had not even heard his words. He turned away from the young woman without another word, and continued walking towards the huge doors of the High Temple.
Chapter Forty-Nine
It was less than three hours until the grand banquet would commence, and a package containing their new clothes was finally delivered to their room by a palace servant. Neala excitedly peeled open the corner of one of the packages to check which was hers, and once she was certain she had the right one, she gave Lusam a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for the door.
“Where’re you going?” Lusam asked.
“I’m going to Hershel’s sister’s house to get ready there. Alexia is there with the children, and she promised to help fix my hair for the banquet. Oh… don’t look so grumpy,” she teased him, “I’ll see you at the banquet, don’t worry.” Neala winked at him as she disappeared through the door, clutching her brown paper package tightly.
Lusam walked over to the door and collected his own package of clothes from the floor, then closed the door behind her.
Reluctantly, Lusam opened the package, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was the tailor’s idea of bad joke, or the current style for such events, but either way he was mortified by what he saw. Before him was a peach-coloured knee-length jacket, with golden embroidery that ran all the way around the collar and down the front of the opening. The cuffs were turned up, and they had the same garish golden embroidery around them too. A pair of knee-length trousers in the same design and colour, as well as a waistcoat and a pair of long white woollen stockings that completed the outfit. There was also a pair of very shiny black shoes in the package, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t been so long and pointy. Lusam wondered if he would even be able to walk in them without falling over his own feet.
Lusam stood looking at the piles of clothes not knowing where to begin, when he was startled by a knock at his door.
“Come in,” he called out. The door opened and in stepped Shannon, the head servant assigned to Lusam and Neala.
“Ah, excellent. I see that your new clothes have already arrived. Would sir like me to arrange for some hot water to brought up for you to bathe, before I assist you in getting dressed?” Shannon asked. Normally Lusam would have been aghast if anyone had suggested helping him dress, but having seen the complexity of the outfit, with its countless buttons and fastenings, he was more than happy to accept the offered help.
“That would be fine, thank you,” Lusam replied, still staring at the garish clothes on the bed.
By the time Lusam had emerged from his bath, Shannon had also added several undergarments to the pile of clothes, as well as a white silk cravat. Lusam couldn’t believe how long it took him to get dressed in the new clothes, and by the time he was done, he felt like he could barely breathe. Even when he had lived rough on the streets of Helveel, he had never worn as many layers of clothing as he did now.
When he was finally dressed, and Shannon had finished trying to—unsuccessfully—get a comb through his unruly hair, he stood before the full-length mirror to inspect the results. He didn’t even recognise his own reflection in the mirror, and he felt sure the tailor was indeed exacting his revenge over what Neala had said to him earlier. At that point there was one thing he knew for certain; if it had been within his power to turn the man into a toad, he would be hopping and croaking around his tailor’s shop right now.
Shannon fussed around him a little more, and even gave his hair another attempt, before finally leaving him in peace with little more than an hour remaining before the banquet started.
The High Priest had been true to his word, and had prepared Lusam with a speech for the grand banquet. After carefully reading it through several times, Lusam could barely believe that such a long speech could actually contain so little. It expertly avoided everything from his origins to his current abilities, and instead focused on thanking the King for his gracious gifts, and offered promises of a brighter future for all of Afaraon now that the Empire’s invasion had been defeated. There was no mention of the estimated one hundred thousand citizens of Afaraon that had lost their lives at the hands of the Empire, and when Lusam had asked the High Priest why, his answer seemed less than satisfactory to Lusam. Apparently talk of the dead was limited only to the time of mourning, but during the time of celebrations, no mention was allowed of such things, which somehow seemed very wrong to Lusam.
Lusam spent the final hour before the grand banquet nervously reading over his speech, trying to make sure he knew its contents well enough not to make a fool of himself later that evening. The High Priest had asked Lusam to rewrite the words in his own handwriting, then burn the original copy, so as not to implicate him in its creation. He also suggested that Lusam should request some writing implements to be brought to his roo
m, and rewrite it there, instead of at the High Temple. That way it would add credence to his own writing of the speech, should anyone enquire later.
Lusam was already thoroughly tired of all the political undercurrents of Afaraon’s high society, and he hadn’t even met a single person from one of the noble houses yet. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait too much longer for that to happen though, as a moment later he heard the knock at his door, and the call that he was expected in the main banqueting hall shortly. Taking a deep calming breath, he carefully folded up his speech and put it away in his inside jacket pocket for later.
He already knew his way to the main banqueting hall, because Shannon had shown him the way there a few days earlier. Shannon had also explained that he must remain outside the banqueting hall doors until he was formally called to enter, and also exactly what he should do when he did enter. Apparently, as the guest of honour he would be the last person to enter the room. That way everyone in the room could see him enter and greet him accordingly. Something that made Lusam feel both sick, and weak to his knees.
There were two Royal Guards stationed outside the large double doors leading into the banqueting hall, each one dressed in his pristine bright red and blue uniform. As Lusam approached, they both simultaneously drew their shining sabres and saluted Lusam, making him momentarily pause mid-stride. A finely dressed servant stepped out from the shadows, and silently ushered Lusam towards the grandly designed doors of the banqueting hall. Lusam’s heart thundered in his chest, as he tried desperately to appear relaxed to anyone who would see him once the doors opened.
The servant pulled on a small rope by the side of the left door, but Lusam heard no bell. He guessed it must control some kind of visual marker on the inside of the room, one that would indicate his presence outside the doors to anyone watching for it on the inside. Almost immediately the music inside the banqueting hall stopped, and was replaced by a very loud voice.
“Your Royal Highness’, Lords, Ladies and gentlemen. It is my great privilege to introduce to you, our guest of honour this evening. The new saviour of Lamuria, and of all Afaraon… LUSAM.”
Lusam just about managed to take a steadying breath, before the large doors swung open to reveal a packed banqueting hall beyond. Hundreds of people suddenly applauded as he stepped into the huge banqueting hall. The noise was almost deafening. He forced a smile onto his face and nodded in random directions as he had been instructed to do, but he met no one’s eyes as he did it. He followed the finely dressed servant to where he would be seated at the King’s table, and almost gasped in horror when he realised he would be sitting by himself at the opposite end to the King, and not with Neala as he had expected.
Desperately, he scanned the room for Neala, and his heart almost melted when he finally saw her. She was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. The sleeveless dress she wore was made from a delicate blue silk. It hugged her figure tightly, then flowed out from her waist to the floor in wave after wave of silk layers. Her blonde hair had been made into an intricate bun on the top of her head, using both plaits and delicate silver chains. And when she smiled at him, his heart seemed to skip a beat in his chest. He had always thought she was beautiful, but tonight, she was simply breathtaking.
“Sir?” a voice said over his shoulder, jolting him back to the present. Lusam turned his body towards the voice, leaving his gaze locked on Neala as long as he could before looking away.
“Yes?” Lusam asked absent-mindedly.
“Your chair, sir,” the servant said, indicating that he should take his seat.
“Oh… yes, thank you,” Lusam replied, taking his seat whilst the applause began to die down again. That was the last time Lusam managed to see Neala for several hours.
The King’s table was in the centre of the enormous room, with dozens of tables arranged around the outside—three or four deep. Lusam guessed that Neala had been seated at one of the many tables behind him, but due to the continuous questions coming from the occupants of his own table, he barely had time to chew and swallow his food, let alone search out Neala’s whereabouts in the room.
The meal seemed like it went on forever, with course after course of food served, most of which, Lusam had no idea what it was. Many of the dishes were made to resemble something they weren’t, like pieces of fruit that turned out to be sweet cakes instead, or savoury pastries shaped like a fish or a chicken. ‘Just one more strange thing to add to the growing list,’ Lusam thought to himself, as he bit into another oddity of food.
When the meal and all the toasts were finally over, the speeches began in earnest. The King was first to speak, and he wasted no time at all reminding everyone in the room of his unique gift to Lusam; a statue that would stand for all time amongst the greatest men and women ever to have lived in Afaraon. Then he invited anyone else wishing to bestow their own gifts upon Lusam to come forward and do so, which they did, in their droves.
Within minutes Lusam was almost buried alive by all of their gifts, and if it hadn’t been for the vigilant servant recording each one as it arrived, Lusam wouldn’t have had a clue who had sent what by the end of the evening. After the hordes of people had finished delivering their gifts, the same servant quietly informed Lusam that they would all be sent to his room, along with a copy of the list so he could see who had gifted what later. Lusam nodded and thanked the man, wishing privately that he too could return to his room along with the gifts, or even without them for that matter, he didn’t care much which.
For almost an hour Lusam listened to speech after speech, all concerning him in one way or another. It seemed incredible to Lusam how much these people—who he had never met before—presumed to know about him. Almost every speech hinted at some fanciful friendship he had—or would have—with that particular person or noble family in the future, and how they would somehow work together to make Afaraon great again. Even though the High Priest had already warned him what to expect, the shallowness and insincerity of those people almost made him feel ill.
By the time it came to his own speech, he cared very little for what the people in the room thought of him any more, so he simply read it out as if reciting a passage from a well known book. Although he was still a little nervous speaking in front of so many people, his lack of enthusiasm seemed to go completely unnoticed by his audience, and they still applauded him loudly when he had finally finished.
Soon the food and the tables began to be cleared away, and the musicians started to play once more. People began to congregate in smaller groups, and others danced to the music with their partners. Lusam soon spotted Neala towards the back of the large room, and had already started making his way towards her, but every second step he took was blocked by one noble or another, each enquiring how he was, or more predictably, which gift did he like the best?
On his way to Neala, Lusam was passed by Alexia as she made her way towards the area of the room now allocated for dancing. She too looked stunning in her new bright red dress, and she gave Lusam a wink and cheeky grin as she passed him by, dragging along a startled looking young paladin behind her, in his pristine dress uniform. Lusam didn’t know whether to envy or pity the young paladin, but felt sure he would have learned more than a few new dance steps come the morning.
“Hello, handsome,” Neala teased, as her eyes ran over his new attire. Lusam had almost forgotten he was wearing the ridiculous outfit, and his face flushed at her comments.
“You look absolutely incredible,” he said quietly as he came close to her. This time it was Neala’s turn to blush, something he hadn’t often see her do.
“Thank you. So do you,” she replied, trying to keep a straight face. Lusam raised his eyebrows at her statement, and it was enough to send her into fits of giggles at his expense.
“So, who was that with Alexia?” Lusam asked, trying to change the subject. It almost worked too, until Neala glanced down at his ridiculous shoes, and once again almost fell over laughing at him. He waited patiently fo
r her to recover herself.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that you look…” Neala started to say.
“Ridiculous! Yes, I know,” Lusam finished for her. “Trust me, if I ever see that tailor again, being turned into a toad will be the least of his worries.” Neala burst out laughing again at his words. Lusam couldn’t help smiling back at her, he loved seeing her so happy—even if it was at his expense.
“What’s so funny?” a young voice asked by his side. When Lusam looked down, he saw Kayden standing by his side looking up at them both, with a huge piece of cake in his hand, and sticky jam all around his mouth.
“Oh, there you are, thank the Gods,” a woman’s voice called out from behind them. Lusam turned to see Darcie and Rebekah coming across the room towards them, with Hershel not far behind.
“Where have you been, Kayden? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Darcie said, sounding a little distressed.
“I was up there,” Kayden replied innocently, pointing to one of the two wide staircases that curved towards a large viewing gallery and outside balcony above.
“What in Aysha’s name were you doing up there, child?” Darcie asked.
Kayden shrugged his shoulders, then replied, “Eating cake. And looking at the stars in the sky outside.”
“Kay, you really shouldn’t wander off like that. Poor Darcie has been worried sick about you,” Rebekah scolded him.
“Sorry, Bekah… I was only eating cake,” Kayden replied quietly, looking at his own feet.
