A murmur rippled through the hall as the assembly parted to either side of the center aisle. Down this aisle came three black-clad figures, one of them female, attended by a single pair of Torenthi guards carrying a large, soft bundle the size of a small child. The man leading the delegation was tall and straight-backed, clad in a full-sleeved and ankle-length over-robe of black silk damask, open at the front to show a close-collared under-tunic of black silk. The gleam of a curved cavalry blade showed through one of the sides, both of which were slit to the waist for riding. His luxuriant beard was black, though starting to go grey, as was the long hair braided and clubbed in a warrior’s knot. The black flat-topped hat set square across his brow added a handspan to his height.
The second man, much younger, was shorter in stature but similarly clad save for a tawny jewel glittering at the front of his black cap. The jewel gathered russet glints from the man’s hair, a rusty red, the sidelocks of which were braided and hung nearly to his shoulders, slashes of russet against the somber black. His sister walked beside him, head held high, gowned in black silks very like the men, but with her face veiled so that only her dark eyes showed beneath a narrow circlet of gold.
The trio strode very nearly to the foot of the dais steps before they halted, never taking their eyes from those of the king. There the leader of the delegation made a deep bow from the waist, right hand flat against his breast. The younger man merely inclined his head, as did his sister, left hand resting easily on the hilt of his sword. The face behind the close-clipped red beard was expressionless, but the pale eyes were cold.
«Donal Haldane King of Gwynedd», the older man said, straightening. «Nimouros ho Phourstanos Padishah, King of Torenth and all its provinces, bids me give you greeting on this, the coming of age of your heir, the Prince Brion». His accent was heavy, and Donal had to concentrate to follow him.
«Nimouros sends this greeting as one father to another, in appreciation for the condolences sent by Your Majesty earlier this year when the padishah mourned the death of his own eldest son and heir». He bowed again. «Today, in return, Nimouros offers this gift to your heir, the Prince Brion, from the bounty of the lands to the east».
Clapping his hands twice, he turned and the prince and princess moved to either side so that the two soldiers could bring forward their bundle. This they deposited at the foot of the steps before withdrawing to either side. It was János himself who knelt beside the bundle and slowly reached to the curved dagger thrust through his belt, gesturing his free hand toward the bands of twine binding the bundle before slowly drawing the blade to cut the twine.
Several other hands had moved to weapons as the dagger cleared its sheath, but Donal held up a hand to stay untoward aggression as János bent to his task. The two Torenthi soldiers anxiously scanned the assembly, off-hands resting on their sword hilts, though their royal charges looked singularly unconcerned.
«They say in Torenth», said János, as he cut the last binding and began to unfold the heavy bundle, «that the carpets of Lorsöl are crafted under the All-Seeing Eye of God, and that angels assist in their weaving». He gave the bundle a shake to unfurl a cascade of crimsons and black and golds, longer than a man, which shimmered with the sheen of silk as he spread it across the steps. The queen had drawn a tiny gasp as the carpet was revealed, and Prince Brion sat forward in astonishment, but Donal only sat back, smiling, one hand stroking his close-clipped beard.
«It is a princely gift, my lord», the king said, inclining his head.
«It is a gift for a prince», János replied, standing to sweep one hand across the carpet in emphasis and then bowing slightly to Brion. «With care and luck, it will serve Prince Brion and his children and his children’s children. I trust that it is acceptable?»
Before Donal could answer, Brion rose and gave the Torenthi envoy a courteous bow. «It is, indeed, a princely gift, my lord, and one that I shall treasure. To receive such a gift is tangible sign that I have, indeed, achieved my majority, for this is no gift for a child. Pray, thank your master for his generosity, and say that I hope it may be a sign of improved relations between our two kingdoms in the future».
János inclined his head. «I shall convey Your Highness’ gracious reply». He glanced at Donal. «And now, by your leave, O King, I and my charges shall withdraw, for our mission is completed».
«You have leave, of course, Count János», Donal replied, «but will you not stay with us for a few days, having come all this distance? A tournament is planned for this afternoon and tomorrow, and you are most welcome to join us».
«I thank you, Sire, but we may not tarry», János replied, glancing at Wencit and Morag. «We are still in mourning, as you see, and it would not be seemly. I hope you will understand».
«Of course», Donal replied, inclining his head. «Then I shall give you a royal escort back to Desse and wish you Godspeed, with my thanks.
«And thank God they did not choose to stay», he muttered under his breath when the three had gone and he had retreated to the withdrawing room behind the dais with his brother and his two eldest sons. In an hour, court would reconvene on the tourney field, but Brion and Nigel were eagerly inspecting the sum of Brion’s gifts, brought back to the room after court had adjourned.
«But it is a fine carpet, Brion», Donal added, watching the boys exclaim over the gifts. «Take care, or your mother will have it in our chambers before you realize».
Brion grinned and ran a hand across the carpet’s silken pile. «I suppose I could let you borrow it, Sire», he said impishly. «At least for the next four years, I shall be very busy keeping up with Uncle Richard’s training regimen, if I hope to be ready for knighthood on time. I doubt I shall be spending much time in my own apartment».
«Probably true enough», Donal agreed, with a wink at his brother Richard. «But you’d best arm for the tournament now. I seem to recall that there is an excellent R’Kassan mare awaiting your foot in the stirrup».
«But I would only ride her for the entry procession», Richard cautioned. «She’s a fine animal, but you aren’t yet accustomed to one another. Compete on the grey you’ve been riding of late. Plenty of time for the other».
Brion rolled his eyes, but he knew that Richard was right.
«That was what I’d always planned, Uncle. But will you help me arm? I assume that I do have your leave to wear the new hauberk and vambraces, since I’ve been party to their fitting?»
«If you wish», Richard agreed. «Just remember that they are somewhat heavier than what you’ve been wearing. In this heat, you’ll feel every bit of the extra weight».
«I hadn’t thought of that», Brion replied, obviously taking his uncle’s caution to heart. «All the leather straps will be stiffer, too; not as agile. Maybe I’ll just wear them for the opening parade, and switch back to my familiar harness when it’s time to compete».
«A wise decision», Richard said with a nod. «In time, you’ll wear the new armor as easily as you wear your skin — and you’ll have several more sets before you’re fully grown. But it’s important to choose your equipment for the conditions. Today, I think you want agility».
«You’re right, of course», Brion replied. «Nigel, would you like to squire for me this afternoon?» he asked, with a glance at his younger brother. «The first thing I’ll need is some help getting these things back to my apartment».
The eager Prince Nigel beamed at being asked, and proudly scooped up the vambraces and several other items to lead the way from the room.