The next morning Toby arrived at the king’s private eating room in a rush. Aggie wasn't in the kitchen today so he was under the orders of the head cook, Claris. Claris could bellow louder than the Master Groomer and she was lightning fast with a wooden spoon.
He had scored double duty for his absence last night. Not only did he have to serve down in the main dining hall but up at the king's private eating room as well. That meant rushing from one to the other several times to keep the cups full and tables cleared as soon as possible.
King Herat, Queen Lisan and Prince Rory were still eating so he stepped quietly to the side of the room to wait for them to finish.
Prince Rory, a quiet man in his early twenties, was eating slowly and gazing out the window. He looked as if he wished he were somewhere else. Queen Lisan, a tall woman with long, straight black hair, was trying to engage her husband in conversation but he was ignoring her as he gave his full attention to the food before him. He looked like he had never gone hungry as his stomach was straining the shiny gold buttons on his bright blue jacket. It was a colour that most people with flaming red hair would avoid but King Herat wore it often.
A tall thin man with a pinched expression entered the room and approached King Herat.
“Ah, my schedule for the day,” the king muttered through a mouthful of bread as he took the offered parchment. Vern, the Chief Clerk, took several steps back while the king looked at it.
“Rory, I want you to come to this morning’s court session.” King Herat spoke to his son without looking up.
Prince Rory did not reply and the king finally looked up
“Rory!” the king shouted and Prince Rory blinked as he brought his attention, seemingly reluctantly, back to his surroundings.
“Pardon father, I didn't hear you,” Prince Rory said so quietly that Toby only just caught his words.
“You haven't attended the court sessions in over a week. It is inexcusable for the heir to the throne to avoid his responsibilities.” The king banged his clenched fist on the table and several cups almost overturned.
“But father I dislike the need to punish people,” Prince Rory almost pleaded with his father.
“Maybe Rory is right.” Queen Lisan spoke up for her son. “Punishment isn't the only answer.”
“Enough!” The king bellowed and thumped the table again. This time several cups tipped their contents onto the table and Toby raced forward to mop it up. “You will be there Rory or I will have you dragged there.”
“Yes father,” Prince Rory replied distantly and turned back to the window, eating without really noticing what he was doing.
The king stood up so quickly that his chair fell backwards, almost hitting Vern. Immediately the queen and Prince Rory put down their spoons. Nobody ate once the king had finished. King Herat thrust the parchment back at his Chief Clerk and strode angrily from the room. The queen and her son rose too and left quietly, leaving just Toby in the room.
“What ya doing?” hissed a voice from the doorway. Max, another serving lad, came into the room. “Claris sent me up to see what’s holdin' you up.”
“They've only just finished,” Toby defended himself as he hurried forward to start clearing the table.
“And don't think I'm going to help you neither,” Max sneered sourly and he leaned against the wall to watch. “My little brother was supposed to get Rane's job.”
Toby cleared the table as quickly as he could, carrying it all down to the kitchens by himself while Max followed empty-handed. Eventually Toby was allowed a break. He had an hour before he had to be back to help prepare lunch for the dozens of guests in the castle and he took some food to Marc.
He and Marc wandered into the more used parts of the castle. He knew how to keep to the shadows and duck out of the way when he came across the guards. After a few minutes of wandering the corridors they found themselves outside the court room. This was one of the few places that townspeople could go in the castle and Toby knew they wouldn't look out of place in here. Normally the chief clerk stood at the door but today the large doors were unguarded and they went in and sat on one of the many empty pews.
King Herat sat at the far end of the room with a thoroughly miserable looking Prince Rory next to him. A man stood before them in torn and ill-fitting clothes. His head hung so low that his chin rested on his chest and his shoulders drooped in defeat.
“For stealing a chicken from the castle farmyard I sentence you to three months in the cells,” King Herat boomed. His voice could be heard all the way to the back of the court but there was only a handful of people in the whole room to listen. Most townspeople avoided the court for it only brought bad news, never good.
“Three months!” The man jerked his head up at what he seemed to think an unjust sentence. “I didn’t take the chicken, just two eggs.”
“My judgement is final.” King Herat didn't even raise his voice as he signalled two guards to take him away. “Next case!”
The king frowned as he looked for the chief clerk who brought forward the guilty to be sentenced.
“Maybe there are no more?” Prince Rory suggested hopefully.
“Nonsense! Guard go and see what is going on,” the king ordered.
As the guard walked down towards the main doors they burst open and a tall man with a flowing cape strode into the court. He carried himself with the air of high ranking gentry and he ignored the guard who attempted to stop him. He was closely followed by Vern who was trying to overtake him before he reached the king.
The man’s shocking red hair stood out against his black cape as he strode on with his back to Toby. From the dusting of un-melted snow on his cloak he must have only just arrived at the castle.
“Sir Sir... This isn’t allowed,” Vern insisted but the man took no notice.
“What is all this about?” the king demanded loudly and glared at his chief clerk.
“Your Majesty, I apologise. I tried to tell the gentleman that he could make an appointment to see you next week.” Vern reached the front of the room at the same time as the stranger and bowed.
“Bow before your king!” King Herat looked furious that the stranger had not given the customary bow. “Bow or I'll have you thrown in the cells!”
For several seconds the man stared at the king and then a thin smile curved his lips.
“I'm glad to see you do not tolerate disobedience,” the man said as he gave a sweeping and graceful bow. “I wish a private audience with you immediately.”
“Impossible.” The king shook his head.
“I will not wait a week to say my piece.” He didn't seem bothered by the king’s refusal.
“Then you will not have an audience with me at all,” the king returned evenly.
“Very well, I do believe you may have preferred to see me in private...” He paused for effect and probably to make sure everyone was listening. “...father.”