A Dream of the Heaven

Chapter 9 (Part 2 of 2)

It was almost midnight when the banquet came to an end.  Beresso had been true to his word – the hall had been full of merrymaking throughout, with happy music dancing above the conversation just as the gold gilded the goblet that Isendrin drank from.  As the Prince stood and the company rose to honour him, Isendrin felt the rich food settle in his stomach, not unpleasantly, despite the volume of venison, capons and woodcock that he had consumed.  Only the extraordinary sugar sculpture of the Summer Palace, brought out at the climax of the feast to the applause of all the guests, had put him off, but that was far too impressive, and sweet, to be eaten.

As the guests departed, Beresso came over to Isendrin through the thinning crowd, Greenwick at his side.

“Thank you for coming to this little feast, Isendrin.  I hardly think I would have had so much enjoyment without you.”

“I think you could have kept him entertained, couldn’t you Hadris?” said Isendrin.

“Perhaps,” said Greenwick.  “I imagine that the Master of the Goldsmiths could have taken your place quite easily, Isendrin.  Think of all the adventures he must have had.”

“You didn’t have to speak to the fellow,” said Beresso.

“That is the hardest of your sovereign duties, I imagine,” said Isendrin.

“It is if I am lacking company on my other hand.”

The three of them raised their goblets to one another.

“I was not sure if I should ask you this, Isendrin,” said Beresso, a beguiling look on his face, “But I feel bound to stay in your company a little longer.  A group of us, myself, Greenwick, some twenty or so, are going to Lord Etresso’s manor to, well, work our way a little further into the night hours.  A banquet is one thing, and this is another, so I do not expect any particular answer, but I’d be pleased if you would join us.”

“And I too,” added Greenwick.

Isendrin was more than a little surprised.  Despite his enjoyment of the company at the Prince’s table, he had occasionally thought of his bed up in the bare chambers of his Jewelcutters manor, particularly once the meat courses had been cleared.  He had been about to ask Beresso’s leave and bid the company goodnight. 

“I understand if...”

“No,” said Isendrin, clarity piercing the vapour of wine in his head.  “No, I should enjoy that very much.  Lord Etresso’s manor?”

“Yes.  It’s on the Summer Slopes, close by the Ducal Wall,” said Beresso.

“I’ll accompany you there,” said Greenwick before turning to the Prince, “If I have your leave, my lord.”

“Of course.  I shall see you there.”

Isendrin stayed for only a few minutes more, by which time most of the guests had already left.  The musicians had ceased playing.  Beresso and a few others had already departed and Isendrin was eager to be gone himself, but Greenwick was yet to depart.  He smiled, though, when he saw Vaiannan and Lontine approaching, their arms happily entwined.

“A good evening?” he enquired, feeling a little tired.

“Certainly,” said Vaiannan. “The Goldsmiths’ don’t hoard their wealth, do they?”

“There is no Guild in Monruath that does,” said Lontine, “May we come again soon, adora?”

“I’ll see what I can manage,” answered Vaiannan, looking fondly at her before turning back to Isendrin.  “Are you returning to Jewelcutters?”