Blade of Erogrund

Chapter 20- The Banquet

"Lad," he said bowing stiffly.

"Thain," Godric responded formally.

"Eh, cut the cute stuff, son." Thain said with a mixture of disgust and humor. "These politicians will kill me yet, I'm afraid. You're barely a young man and I'm a dwarf; let's face it, we don't belong here among these pretty people."

Godric couldn't help but stare at him for a moment. "You have an uncanny ability to hide when you're being serious, did you know that?"

"Aye, a point of pride for me," the dwarf answered with an enthusiastic nod. "But I can be openly serious about this: there is a good deal of work that needs to be done on you before you're presentable. You're partner is already as gorgeous as any of these devious witches," he waved toward the ladies for emphasis, "and it would be a shame for you to disappoint."

"Agatha is here already? Where?" A queer excitement rose in his chest at the prospect of seeing the quiet girl he had only met two days before.

Thain's scruffy eyebrows drew together aporetically. "You know, there's hope for you yet, lad. But no time. Come with me."

An iron grip clamped around Godric's arm and steered him none too gently down the long hall past many lords and ladies who conversed in gentle tones, broken by the occasional polite laugh. His eyes wondered and found Ennor who stood toward the opposite hall beside a radiant woman he did not recognize.

Suddenly Thain pushed into a small room off the hall that was separated by a heavy maroon curtain. From inside he heard the dwarf bark something, likely to a servant, before tossing in a bundle of clothes.

"Put these on and be quick about it."

Doing as he was told, Godric unwound the coarse chord that tied the bundle together and unfolded the clothes. Inside rested a sapphire-blue tunic with silver threading around the collar and fine brass dowels that went from the chest to the throat. Putting this on, he discovered a fine, newly polished black leather vest and long, dark breeches complete with a silver-buckled leather belt. After he had donned the outfit and readjusted everything several times, he stepped out.

"For the sake of Niron, could that have taken you any longer?" Thain muttered.

"You gave me clothes with dowls," Godric accused adding a hint of humor. "That what you get when you give someone a shirt with dowels."

The dwarf grunted. "Fair enough, I s'pose. Ideally we'd get you a bath or something, but we haven't got all night. For all that time you spent at least you succeeded in not looking like a complete clod, except for your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Beside that fact that it looks like you've been on duty at the walls for the last two days, nothing. But we might want to change it all the same," Thain replied with a wink. "Timar! If you please."

A middle-aged, motherly looking female servant rushed over and smiled. "Of course, Master Thain, I was wondering when you would ask. We might start with your beard, though I'm not certain I have a strong enough comb."

Thain rolled his eyes while Godric stifled a grin. "Not me, woman, him!"

Her face blushed. "A thousand apologies, sir." From her garb she drew out a small flask and statuesque comb carved to resemble the mouth of a dragon set with two emeralds as its eyes.

Setting the comb on the ground, she poured the small contents of the flask in her hands and spread it around until they were both well covered. From the glistening appearance and strong minty fragrance, Godric assumed it was some kind of scented oil.