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Posted on July 1, 2013 at 01:59:17 AM by a r t h u r
 “The Queen, who loved her lord with her whole heart, welcomed them. Then said the King to his wife: ‘Lady, now welcome your son, for I had been taken had it not been for his great valour, but by him was I succoured.’ ‘Sire,’ says she, ‘welcome be he and you also. Methinks I should say: “In a good hour was he born.” Arthur walked around the main hall as his son recited the passage his arms behind his back and his face tilted towards the floor. He was nodding. “Good,” he commented with a half-smile, “but louder, don’t shout, project.” He watched out the corner of his eye as Tristan took another deep breath in order to continue. “There were the knights and barons right well received; there was seen dancing and junketing, feasting and revelling; and right pleasantly was time passed among them, and there was love and noblesse, gaiety and prowess.” The king, nodding again, made his way further down the hall, getting steadily closer towards the double doors at the back of the room. The Prince would be thirteen at his next birthday, and no longer a child under Shaman law. It was almost time for him to start undertaking more royal duties, and Arthur was determined to ensure that he would be ready. Fortunately he was a quick learner. “Leave longer pauses after full stops,” he advised, leaning back against the doors with his arms folded across his chest, “it stops the sentences from running into one another.” A knock came at the door, and Arthur cast Tristan an apologetic look before opening it. The guard told him that there was someone asking to see him waiting in the entrance hall. “You had best show him in then,” the king replied, and he didn’t close the door again until the guard had hurried off in order to fetch their guest. He turned around and took a step back into the hall, and was about to tell Tristan to call it a day, when he noticed that his son was already lounging in his chair, his back rested against one arm, whilst he draped his long legs over the other. He had one of his puppies sat on his chest. “You have good ears” Arthur smiled wryly, before fixing the boy with a piercing look, “one would have hoped that it would mean you did as you were told.” The only answer he got was a very broad grin. Shaking his head, the king stepped up on the dais, and sat down on his throne. The high wooden back was arch-shaped, with golden tendrils of ivy painted from the seat to the top point. Upon the point was perched the King’s familiar, his sharp yellow eyes fixed inscrutably upon the door. The great hall was longer than it was wide. The walls were adorned with heraldic banners, tapestries, and mounted swords and shields in varying styles. The long table that usually ran along the dais was nowhere to be seen, having been moved temporarily earlier that morning. Celidon, Tristan’s familiar, was curled up by his faerie’s chair. The green dog, who was roughly the size of a half-grown calf, had his plaited tail wrapped around his body. The green of his fur matched the colour of the prince’s eyes. The boy’s hair was a shade or two darker than his father’s, and, as the blacksmith entered the hall, Arthur fixed him with eye of cool silver-grey. It was only at the last moment that the king realised that Tristan had not adjusted his casual seat. He fixed the boy with a hard look, and was gratified to find that it was enough to get the prince to sit up straight. “Welcome to the Castle,” Arthur smiled at Fael, “tell me, what can we do for you today, my friend?”  |
Replies:
- Wretches and Kings - By Fael July 3, 2013 at 05:29:02 AM
- chased your ghost across the yard - By a r t h u r July 13, 2013 at 08:56:36 PM
- Wretches and Kings - By Fael July 14, 2013 at 08:36:27 PM
- chased your ghost across the yard - By a r t h u r July 13, 2013 at 08:56:36 PM
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