Without Magic
Chapter 16: An Unexpected Invitation
In the end Bo couldn't remember the exact words of Takeshi, nor of Lance, but he conveyed the gist of the events as best he could. He also reluctantly admitted that he had been unwittingly speaking with the King. Erasmus rubbed tiredly at his eyes, unable to immediately take in just how much difficulty Bo had caused in a single afternoon. Bo waited anxiously for Erasmus to say something – probably to admonish him for drawing unwanted attention to himself. Before the desert mage could even compose himself enough to speak, there came a polite rapping on the room's heavy wooden door. Giving Bo a look that warned the teen that the conversation wasn't over, Erasmus opened the door to admit a court messenger. With little pomp, a heavy red envelope was handed over. It was immediately obvious to anyone familiar with Middlefortress that this was from The King himself – only royalty was allowed to use the faded red paper created from silk cabbages, a small plant unique to Redland, and a symbol of its wealth and majesty.
Erasmus gave the messenger a tip, although they bowed politely and explained that they were to wait until a reply had been written, so that it could be taken back directly. Feeling annoyed, Erasmus insisted that Bo open his own note, and so the teen did. He was greeted by a very familiar style of handwriting,
'It is only now that I realise I do not know your name, although you probably know mine by now. This is terribly rude, and must be rectified immediately – so I insist that you join me tonight for dinner. You may bring your talkative friend if you like, and I will send you some clothes to wear, which you may keep later on. I enjoyed talking to you over lunch, and I hope talking over dinner will be a lot faster and easier.
-King Samuel
P.S please forgive me for having a servant follow you to your rooms, I merely wished to know where you were staying.'
On hearing what the letter contained Erasmus could only shake his head in dismay. Clearly The King was awaiting a reply, but he had hardly given Bo the opportunity to refuse. Eyebrows raised with anxiety the teen turned to his more knowledgeable companion. On seeing how much trouble his friend had unwittingly blundered into, Erasmus couldn't help feeling sorry for Bo, and with a sigh he found the teen a fresh piece of paper and a working pen.
'I will come with you – just to keep you from getting into any more trouble, if that is even possible!' huffed Erasmus, trying not to smile at the obvious relief on Bo's face. Privately Erasmus worried that The King was well aware of the strange goings on in the dungeons of his own castle, and that he was a part of the mysterious cult group that was currently looking for Bo – but then why go to all the trouble of inviting the boy to dinner when Bo could easily have been snatched away as soon as he was recognised? 'Perhaps we will get the chance to do some detective work Bo – find out if The King knows what is going on right under his nose,' Erasmus muttered thoughtfully.
'THANK YOO FOR THE INVITASHUN TO DINER. I VVIL BRING MY FREND. HE IS CALLED ERASMVS.
YVRS SINSEERLY
FASMA TODY'
At the last second, Bo realised that signing his own name would probably be rather foolish, and being unable to come up with a good alias quickly had signed the name of his former friend from The Gutter – the magician who had told him so many stories and who had attempted at one point to train him in the ways of magic. Erasmus winced at the horrible spelling but couldn't fix it because he was sure that The King would expect this level of literacy by now, if he had indeed been conversing with Bo for a good portion of the day. The desert mage was forced to look away as Bo handed the message back to the messenger for quick delivery, lest he lose control of himself and snatch it away to correct the errors in it.
The messenger, who had grown irritable with waiting for the response (although he hid it relatively well) was quickly away, leaving Bo and Erasmus sitting in their room to await the arrival of the promised clothes. Erasmus sighed heavily – there was no point in chastising Bo now. The harm was done, and the dark skinned teen hadn't meant to cause so much trouble – all he'd done was reply to a friendly note that had been sent to him. In reality it was Erasmus' fault for agreeing to let him come to the meeting in the first place.
'Takeshi would kill me when he finds out about this.' the lanky mage groaned into his hands, realising that sooner or later he would have to tell Takeshi what had been going on. Preferably he would tell the man when they were leaving for home.
In a little under twenty minutes a group of five people bustled in with cloth, thread, pins, measuring tapes, and half finished clothes. Three of the five were women while the remaining two were men, and the whole group seemed to be part of the small percentage of paid servants in the castle, as none of them sported a collar or bangle.
'I am Jean Necroix, court tailor, and the best you will find in all of Redlands. These women are here to help with measuring, and this lad here is my apprentice. Right, please strip down to your shorts.' Jean looked to be no nonsense and immediately started his work, ordering the much younger Sivan around, asking the young man to match colours and fabric styles for the clothes to be. The two looked so similar to Bo that he could only assume they were related, perhaps as father and son. Jean looked Bo and Erasmus up and down critically, unravelling a ropey tape measure from around his neck. Bo was reluctant to part with the comfort of his clothes, but seeing Erasmus was complying, he had little choice but to go along with it. The dark skinned teen felt worse than naked as he was scrutinised by multiple people, all of them whispering and taking notes. Turning to see what was happening to Erasmus, Bo noticed that Erasmus was grinning widely at him, largely ignoring the people clustered about him. Bo blushed furiously, wondering what his friend was thinking to give him such a roguish smile, and modestly covered the front of his shorts with his still gloved hands.
'You know,' called Erasmus cheekily, seeing the effect he had on his younger companion, 'I have changed my mind about those early morning training sessions – you've built up some very nice muscles. I should join in and do the same.'
'Oh I know you Erasmus – you just want to be there when Alexander takes off his shirt,' retorted Bo, and was rewarded by a sudden horrified expression from Erasmus at the contemplation of such a sight.
'Maybe I'll just sleep in after all, I'm not sure my mental fortitude is ready for a shirtless Alexander.'
Bo and Erasmus' measurements were quickly and efficiently taken, and a special cloth mage adjusted the clothes more to size. What had previously been a deep red cloth was changed to a blue for Erasmus – with a gradient from deep azure to almost black the further down his body the gaze wandered. Bo's were changed to a pale creamy colour that complimented his skin tone well, with a light orangy-yellow trim. Much to Erasmus' disappointment the two were then required to put on their new clothes so that the mages might better see how well they fitted. There was a long hour of tweaking the clothes – letting parts of them in, and other parts of them out. Bo winced in discomfit as he was manhandled with a cold kind of disinterest, like a manikin or clothes horse. Both the mage and the former slave were made to sit down, stand up, and stretch to make sure that the clothes would not impede their movement, as well as looking good in any position.
In the end, after the gaggle of seamstresses had left, Erasmus stood, his long shapely legs accentuated by a pair of well fitting pants. Bo couldn't help admiring Erasmus' figure, which was complimented by his suit. His torso had been clothed in a long sleeved, tailed jacket with a half mantle that made his shoulders more noticeable, over a stiff vest, and a soft long sleeved shirt. Bo's new outfit consisted of coarse-weave baggy pants that tucked into knee high boots, and were affixed with a light leather belt with a silver buckle. Over this was a long cloak that reached to Bo's knees at his back, but cut away at the front. Instead of long sleeves like Erasmus' jacket, Bo's cloak was topped with an asymmetrical mantle, made of some foreign leather, that covered his left shoulder, while leaving his right shoulder unclothed, presumably so that he would be able to use his sword arm mor
e freely. Under his cloak Bo wore a long sleeved shirt that was both soft and tough, of a light tan colour that the teen instantly took a liking for. Both Erasmus and Bo were equipped with a short sword. The swords were blunt, simple affairs, but from handling the practice swords in the armoury, Bo knew them to be well made and perfectly balanced. The swords had a sun symbol engraved at their base, with a small turtle embossed in black in the middle (Erasmus later explained that it was the symbol of his home town). It had been explained (briefly and between fittings) that tradition dictated that The King allowed his foes to enter his presence armed, as a sign that he does not fear them – although in the current day and age it had become more a symbol that The King trusted those in question. It was considered a very ill omen if a person was denied their weapons while in the presence of the King, and usually no one in the upper city would trade with them or have anything to do with them until they were once again a trusted member of court. Although it was a tradition and most people only brought fake, pretty weaponry with them to court these days, it was a great honour to be given a sword by the King. It was a display of trust that was usually only extended to citizens of Redland.
Soon enough the time came and Erasmus and Bo were escorted to a lively, yet refined dining hall. Here there were no dogs scrambling after scraps, or ill-cleaned tables and tiles. This dining hall was meant for those of the highest station. It was slightly larger than the dining hall that Bo and Erasmus had been in earlier, being made to accommodate more people. The tables were placed in a horse-shoe formation, and each table fitted roughly ten people. At the end of the horse shoe and on a slightly elevated platform was the King's table which seated only the King, The Queen and three or four other officials. Bo looked around at the other guests and marvelled at the fine array of colour and style. He had thought himself fine when he'd caught sight of himself in a mirror, but in the hall of people, his was one of the most practical outfits. Many had gone for amazing over practical when it came to clothes. Some people had giant billowing silken scarves that trailed through the air like a liquid snake behind them (clearly infused with some sort of magic), and many women had impossibly large chests that jutted in front of them such a distance that Bo thought they would be unable to see their dinners. Some people were impossibly thin around the middle, through some contortion, either magical or natural, of their clothes, while others sported cosmetic animal ears and tails, or in some cases – giant wings that battered at other guests and serving staff. A few of the courtiers had weird and wonderful masks that looked too heavy to stay stuck on the face naturally, and others had gravity defying hair styles. One man in particular had a long black cape that seemed to drift and billow dramatically without a breeze, with tendrils that waved like delicate tentacles from the bottom of the fabric and a black mist that followed him wherever he walked, along with a palpable miasma that chilled those nearby. Looking around, it was like a garden of exotic flowers that had been planted haphazardly together without care for aesthetics or logic. Each courtier was very well aware of their particular assets, and although they chattered it was more a struggle to gain recognition for their outfits, and to discretely make sure everything was still in its proper place. To this end, large mirrors had been placed around the hall, and it was not uncommon to see a courtier or two turning around to glance in a mirror and preen. It also made the hall feel larger, and fuller than it really was. The range of weaponry was also exquisite beyond the limits of practicality. Bo spotted a giant hacksaw strapped to somebody's back, while other people casually held heavy looking crossbows. One woman had a glimmering white bow that could be seen only as a silhouette without any shading, and left bright spots on the vision. One tough looking man had a pair of gloves on that almost doubled the size of his hands, and appeared to be made of rock. Each knuckle was adorned with a metal spike, and he looked (unlike most people) like he would know how to use his weapon of choice.
'This is why cosmetic magicians get paid so well,' muttered Erasmus. He sounded a mixture of shocked, appalled, and grudgingly appreciative of those he saw around him. Bo quickly lost his fear of sticking out like a sore thumb – yes he did stick out, as someone with such uninteresting and moderate clothes, but no one was interested in anyone but themselves, making it as easy to go unnoticed as it would be if Bo had been invisible. Idly the teen fingered the pommel of his sword, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. He and Erasmus slowly made their way to a table to be seated, all the while commenting on the amazing and crazy sights around them. On the way they accepted two items that were questionably edible (they may have been just for looking at) – but tasted fantastic. They also accepted a small vial from a waiter who explained it as being the scent of the desert after storms, when it was rich with plant-life. Erasmus was sceptical, and the description of the scent seemed a little whimsical, but Bo had to admit that it was nice enough, although it made him sneeze.
It took a good hour to get everyone seated. Some were more difficult to accommodate than others, and many people changed their seat more than once. Bo and Erasmus waited patiently, stomachs growling almost as much as some of the animal featured people (who were fond of rolling their r's and adding in 'purr' or 'nya' wherever they could). The food was just as rich and exciting as the courtiers, and despite his large lunch, Bo couldn't help himself in grabbing a piece of almost anything that was passed under his nose, until his plate was almost piled high with rare and exquisite delicacies. Erasmus could not bring himself to admonish Bo, and so restrained himself from commenting on the ever growing pile of edibles.
Soon enough The King was announced, and all of the courtiers clapped politely, standing to greet their King and his Queen as they entered and took their places. Both were dressed more sensibly than their courtiers, with The King wearing his usual arrangement (that Bo had thought so tacky and overdone when in the peace talks) and The Queen wearing a stark white dress with silver trimmings that flowed about her body like water, shimmering and iridescent in a way that seemed to indicate that the material was incredibly delicate. The whole piece had an internal glow that softened the features of the woman wearing it, and made her appear almost ethereal. The Queen was tall, with willowy limbs, and a skin tone that was darker than Bo's. Her eyes were as yellow as a daisy and her lips were full and dark. A slight smile graced her countenance, and there were a number of fresh flowers tucked into her hair. Around her neck was a thin gold choker chain with a startlingly white stone embedded in it. It was like a hole had been punched in the world. It wasn't shiny, it was simply white. Bo gaped - not at the appearance of his Queen, but because he recognised her immediately - it was Tracer, from the trio of slave snatchers. Mistaking Bo's surprise, Erasmus leaned down and murmured,
'That's whitestone!' clearly shocked. Bo was completely nonplussed, his mind still suffering from the shock of his discovery. Erasmus quickly realised his young friend had no idea what he was talking about. 'It is one of the most rare and expensive of all items. Completely useless when it comes to magic or anything else, but cherished for its absolute whiteness. It isn't actually a stone – it is hardened sap from a whitestone tree - very difficult to harvest and those who do not take the proper precautions can die if they inhale the vapours of the sap. Usually the stones are only a quarter the size of a tooth at most – to get something that big a whole plantation must have been drained. I've never even seen a whitestone before – I wish I could get a better look!' Bo cut across his friend, his mouth finally galvanising,
'Erasmus The Queen is one of the kidnappers! I'm sure of it! Maybe The King is involved in all this, and we've walked right into a trap?' Erasmus' eyes narrowed, as he examined The Queen.
'Don't jump to conclusions just yet, but let's not draw attention to ourselves either. We will get out of here as soon as possible to warn Hayse and Arty about what is going on.'
The eating of the food was interspersed with entertainment – from a flute playing magician who wove their spells with music, to a troupe of acrob
ats who boasted the use of no magic in their performance, and who displayed amazing skills. Despite the fear of being discovered, Bo's mouth hung open for most of the entertainment, which was lucky because he had a lot of food to shovel into it. Erasmus managed to maintain better decorum than his less worldly friend, but had to admit that it was something that he would never forget for as long as he lived. There was no way to subtly exit from the hall, for as soon as The King and Queen had arrived, the doors were closed and guarded. Even if Bo and Erasmus had requested leave of the hall they would have to pass by an area where they would be easily visible to The King and Queen. As the night was winding down, a group of people were called into the hall who were even more under-dressed than Bo was. They were clearly hunters and trappers – both grizzled and clothed in many and varying hides. By the leader's side was a medium sized hunting dog, although as they entered, everyone near to the door gasped and drew back. Bo frowned slightly – that wasn't a polite way to treat people, even hunters and trappers had dignity. The men approached The King and Queen, stopping short and bowing hurriedly.
'We have come to offer a hunt unlike any other, Your Majesty. We have found a baby wyvern, near as yer can get ter mature without bein' a terror of the skies. We offer you guides to find and slay the beast – a hunt like none other what you done been on.' The King stood, smiling unhurriedly.
'Wyvern you say? I have heard that you are the greatest beast trackers in this – or any other kingdom, and I would love to consider your offer. Please find yourselves accommodation in my castle, and we will speak again tomorrow after I have had some time to consider.' Erasmus hissed through his teeth, leaning back in his chair as the group of hunters left.
'Another delay to the peace talks no doubt,' grumbled the mage eyeing off the hunters' backs. 'I can't believe they had a chimera – they must be good.'
'A what? I thought a chimera was all bits of other animals?' asked Bo, clearly confused. Erasmus gave him an odd expression.
'It is – why what did you see?' Bo explained that they had only had a dog with them, and Erasmus whistled, impressed with the audacity of the men to try and fob off a regular dog as a chimera in the King's own dining hall. More impressive still was that they had succeeded for the most part. 'It would have been difficult to hide the magical aura of the illusion spell. On the other hand, there is already so much of an aura coming from the cosmetic magic of the courtiers, maybe they were banking on their own illusions going unnoticed?' Silently Erasmus made note of this.
Soon after the hunters made their exits the dinner was called to a close. With everyone else, Bo and Erasmus stood to leave, but were ushered in a completely different direction by a servant who claimed that The King and Queen wished to have dessert with their special guests. Bo held his stomach anxiously, not certain he could fit any more in even if he wanted to (and he surely would want to after seeing the desserts on offer) but greater was the sudden fear that he was about to be hauled down to the under-castle and turned into a lifeless husk. He shared a worried glance with Erasmus, but they both knew there was no avoiding The King and Queen if they really wanted an audience. The two were escorted to a smaller room, and one that was relatively cosy. It had more of a 'study' feel than a 'dinning hall' feel, and it was only Erasmus, Bo and the King, as long as no one was counting slaves and servants. Bo began to relax a little, seeing that there was no great abundance of guards. Large comfy chairs were arranged around a roaring fire, and the smell of leather-bound books pervaded the area, as shelf upon shelf of a private library stood behind the chairs. The ceiling was domed, and looking up it was possible to see the night sky in vivid detail, with complicated charting lines lying over the top of the stars. Erasmus tried not to show how desperately interested in examining the books he was, but was largely unsuccessful.
The King stood to greet his guests, a large grin on his face, and a small glass of port in his hand.
'Please sit down! I apologise if I have gotten you into any trouble with your superiors at all,' The King said, his voice rumbling impressively in his chest. Somewhat uncomfortable with the situation, both Erasmus and Bo found themselves a seat, and were given their own glasses of port. 'I truly am sorry, but I enjoyed talking to you over the lunch, Phasma. So few people are honest with me – I hope you will forgive my trickery?' Bo smiled shyly, still waiting to be grabbed at any second by a demon.
'Of course. I guess it must be pretty difficult if no one tells you what they are thinking.' He murmured truthfully. The King nodded, still smiling,
'I hope you will continue to be so honest – actually I was wondering what you thought of those hunters? They come from a family that by all rights should hate our kingdom and yet they seem quite eager to please. Do you think they were being genuine?' Bo explained that he had seen through their trick, candid despite the danger he found himself in (although he claimed that this was due to his abilities in magic rather than anything else) and The King was both surprised and pleased to find out the truth. He rubbed his hands together,
'well I have a surprise or two for them in return – thank you for the warning Phasma!' The King abruptly stood and welcomed the last member of the party – The Queen. She was even more impressive close up than she had been in the dining hall. Erasmus and Bo, untutored in correct behaviour also stood up, bowing deeply. The Queen laughed at their gesture of respect, amused by the formality.
'No one is judging us in here – don't worry about all that nonsense!' she admonished, instead shaking Bo and Erasmus by the hand as a greeting in the traditional Desert manner. Everyone quickly sat down again and got comfortable. The Queen, if she recognised Bo, hid it well. She continued, 'Phasma – that's an unusual name around here. I knew a Phasma Todea once, but I am sure you couldn't be the same person?' Bo paled. He hadn't even considered that his mage friend might once have been known at the castle. The Queen's bright yellow eyes gleamed with a sharp intelligence as she passed her gaze over Bo. The teen swallowed a small mouthful of port hastily before breaking into a nervous smile.
'It's a very common name – in the er, desert.' The Queen nodded as though a great understanding had been reached, and casually asked if Phasma had met Lance, the King's mage, listening carefully to Bo's reply.
'Yes I have, just this afternoon in fact – he was a little uh, strange I suppose, but he seems alright. He was very nice to me, and I was honoured to meet such a great magician!' Bo took another sip of port, finding his throat somewhat dry. The Queen nodded thoughtfully, before sighing lightly and leaning against her husband in a loving gesture that Bo hadn't even thought possible in the upper echelons of society. The King wrapped an arm around her in an almost unconscious reaction. Soon enough the conversation kicked off. For an hour or more the small group chatted of this and that in a pleasantly rambling way which meant that a wide variety of interesting topics were covered. Bo and Erasmus, although initially wary, had been put off guard by the friendly demeanour of The King and Queen. Ersamus was even granted the opportunity to examine the necklace The Queen wore. She had no qualms about taking it off so that he could see the whitestone more clearly, and in fact she was rather insistent that Erasmus should have the opportunity to touch the stone. The King also suggested that Erasmus might take the time tomorrow to look around the private library, as there would be no peace talks that day, and he promised that there would be books Erasmus had only ever heard about before. Almost drooling with anticipation, the desert mage had gratefully accepted the kind offer, and quickly turned the conversation toward his favoured scholars, proving that The King and Queen were also quite well read themselves as they kept up their side of the conversation admirably.
Eventually Bo and Erasmus were excused because they could no longer hide their yawns and Bo had almost fallen asleep while Erasmus explained something in technical detail. The King asked if they required assistance in getting back to their rooms, but the duo respectfully declined, pleased to finally be able to slip away. With fond farewells they walked wea
rily back to the guest quarters. Bo, who was feeling a little tipsy, leaned against Erasmus arm, using it as a support. Back at their room, Erasmus shook his head, carefully removing his beautiful clothes. Bo quickly turned away to give his friend some privacy while he changed, hoping that Erasmus would do the same for him. The teen rested his head against the wall, still feeling vaguely dizzy with all of the alcohol he had consumed that night.
'That was all well and good Bo – I think we got away with it – but you need to be more careful! Someone is going to find out who you really are if you draw so much attention to yourself,' admonished Erasmus. 'We have to get you out of here before that can happen, especially if that Tracer woman is on to us.'
'And who exactly is Bo?' growled a familiar voice. Bo whipped around in surprise to find Takeshi standing at the table with folded arms and a smug expression on his face.