First, came the cold greens, and after those dishes were taken away, soup, and loaves of aromatic, freshly baked bread arrived. After that, a dish of sea crawlers were presented, and all the while, big Lord Ellrich listened intently as King Balton spoke enticingly of the great glazed ham that was yet to come. The King described the main course in such a way, that all of the attendees were salivating for it. He was just jesting with Lord Ellrich’s great hunger of course, but he made it sound as if it was the last pig left in the realm that they were about to eat. The whole room full of merchants, lesser nobles, and all of their wives went excitedly still in anticipation when the head cook rang the bell.
Proudly, with his chest puffed out, the man said, “The main course, Your Majesty, sweet pork on the bone.”
A half second before the cart came rolling in, the castle brats let go of their surprise. The big sow, that they had been struggling so hard to contain, was let loose through the curtains, into the dining hall. It charged out of the bard’s alcove, propelled into a fleeing squeal, as one of the children slapped it sharply on the rump.
The stage they were hiding on was elevated, and the terrified pig soon found itself running through midair, as it raced off the end of the platform. It was only a two foot drop to the dining hall floor, but the fall frightened the sow so much, that her fearful shriek was nearly deafening.
The ladies at the table squealed, and cried out as well. Chairs shot backwards, and swords were drawn. As soon as the men realized that they weren’t under attack, a few of them tried to chase the pig around the room. The event quickly turned into a study of chaotic disaster. Mikahl remembered that it had been riotously funny to the small group of perpetrators, until old Master Hinten had cornered them, and called for the King.
Mikahl pictured clearly, the smile King Balton had been fighting back, as he paced back and forth in front of them, deliberating whether the dungeons, or the chopping block, would be their fate. In the end, the head cook got to handle most of them, a fate far worse than the dungeons might have been.
Mikahl, until this very moment, had never understood why he had been spared the cook’s wrath. Zasha, of course, was to be punished by her father, because she was a noble born lady. To punish her openly wasn’t proper, but Mikahl was told that he was going to be sent away. He had cried his eyes out to his mother, thinking that he would never see her again, but King Balton had only wanted Lord Gregory to evaluate Mikahl over the summer.
He spent his time at Lake Bottom Stronghold, in Lord Gregory’s stable, learning the proper care of horses, and how to ride. Looking back, Mikahl realized that King Balton had used the incident as a reason to get him out of the castle. Working for the Lord of Lake Bottom that summer was just another of the many subtle steps King Balton had taken to educate him over the years. He returned to his mother and Lakeside Castle in the fall, with a new job as the Royal Stable Master’s Assistant. No one thought twice about it when Lord Gregory took him on as a page a year later.
Mikahl wondered what had become of the castle brats. Only one had become a soldier. Flint was his name. Had the Dragon Queen killed them? Peter was a scribe now, and Dotty went on to work in the kitchen with her mother, after her father died one winter. Maybe they were alive and well, maybe not. Mikahl hoped that they were just doing the same jobs they had done before, only for a different ruler.
But what of Zasha? She was most certainly Lady Zasha now. The last time he had seen her, she had looked as beautiful as anything he could imagine. He hoped she was all right. The idea of soldiers having their way with her sickened him. Any joy that remained from his memory, faded on that thought.
He asked himself, then, where this so called Dragon Queen had gotten the men to take and hold Westland. Surely, the Dakaneese weren’t in this with her. A hope formed in his heart. Westland was huge. She would have to have spread thin a fairly large force to hold a kingdom that size.
He put the thoughts of retaking his father’s kingdom aside a moment later, when he realized that no matter who occupied the place, to him, it would never be the same again. His mother, King Balton, and now Lord Gregory were dead. Glendar had most likely branded him a thief and a traitor. It all suddenly seemed so impossible to overcome, that even an attempt to do so, would be nothing more than a fool’s quest. His tone was far angrier, and far sharper than he intended it to be, when he spoke.
“I’m fargin tired of this!”
Mikahl hadn’t specifically meant that he was tired of the waiting in the forest, but that’s how Hyden took it. Vaegon’s sharp ears picked up the comment as well, but the possibility that the words were spoken about something other than his situation, never crossed his mind. The elf started angrily back to the camp to respond, to defend his unexpected lack of ability, but Mikahl’s next words stopped him.