The Legend Of The Seven Crystals The One Crystal - Chapter 4 Chapter Iii Nipos

King Spartas entered a room grander than anything he’d ever seen, and far different from the beautiful sylvan chambers of his own palace. He stared in wonder, while noting the interesting configuration of the other races. Some, he realized, had brought a surprising number of knights, while others had traveled to Nipos with only two or three.

Unsure where he and Masori were supposed to go, he began crossing the room toward a human who looked like he might be in charge.

“Hey, elf!” shouted a creature that was an odd mixture of human and horse.

King Spartas recognized him as a tikbalang. The arrogant, rude attitude told him that this must be their king, Akiros. Stopping in his tracks, Spartas faced Akiros, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing. His advisors had educated him about the other bearers of the Crystal Shards, and he knew this one was prone to quick-tempered reactions. Choosing silence, Spartas hoped, was the best tactic to forestall a confrontation.

The tikbalang stepped closer and thrust his face forward. “Are you interested in saving Meridia?”

“Of course,” replied Spartas, his calm, even tone a marked contrast with Akiros’ harsh, belligerent one.

“You should have been early and not played around, then!”

For some reason, the accusation jolted Spartas’ composure and his determination to be reasonable disappeared. “We were not ‘playing around,’ tikbalang. And you had better tame your tongue – you’re among civilized beings here.” As he said this, Spartas realized he sounded as arrogant as Akiros, and surprised at himself for this unexpected, and childish, behavior told himself that taming his own tongue should be his priority.

Akiros stomped up to the elf king, raised his fist, and gave a wild roar. “Do you want me to spill your blood right here?”

Beside him, Spartas heard Masori sliding his sword from its sheath, and put out a hand, signaling the young knight to stop.

“But – nobody speaks to you like that, my King! Let him have a taste of my blade!”

Before the elf king could respond, the human who had been approaching, and who Spartas had assumed was in authority there, reached them, his eyes stormy. He came to a stop behind the tikbalang and slammed the butt of his halberd onto the floor.

“Enough! How dare you engage in such savage behavior here! Keep your unruly temper in check, Akiros, or I shall have to confine you to your rooms until the Joining – there was no need for this, and no excuse!” The human continued to glare, unafraid, even when Akiros spun about and favored him with a furious deep-throated growl.

Spartas gave a quiet cough. “Please – let us start over, King Akiros.”

The tikbalang, after an angry snort at the human, gave Spartas an arch look. “Start over?”

“Yes.” Spartas offered a short bow. “Please. My name is King Spartas of the Elf Kingdom. I’m so sorry we were late getting here – I didn’t count on the roads being so difficult.”

Akiros crossed his arms, harrumphing. “Perhaps you should have inquired of your astronomers more closely.”

“Yes, I should have. Thank you – and everyone here – for your patience.” He smiled and put out a hand.

Akiros snorted again, paused, then grasped Spartas’ forearm in acceptance. “Very well. You apologize nicely. I might even grow to like you, King Elf.”

Masori made a movement that Spartas suspected was the prelude to a protest on his behalf, and gently stepped on his servant’s foot. “I certainly hope so, King Akiros. I have heard many tales of your bravery and strength.”

“Well! That’s much better,” said the human. “And now, King Spartas, as the Captain of the Guard for Nipos, I welcome you. My name is Sir Basil, and I can answer any questions you may have later. Right now, however, and since you’ve finally arrived, I must ask you to stand with the others while I explain what is to happen.”

“Thank you, Sir Basil.” Spartas smiled, gave the tikbalang a friendly nod, and told Masori to follow him to the side of the room where the others were assembled.

Rapping his halberd on the floor again – albeit with far less force than before – Sir Basil stood in the middle of the room, saying nothing until all was quiet.

Behind Sir Basil, Spartas saw movement; one of the massive blue and gold curtains had fluttered as if someone were hiding there. He frowned, wondering if perhaps a spy had crept into the room, although why anyone would feel it necessary to do that – but no, that made no sense. However, he would be certain to speak with the Captain about it afterward. He put it out of his mind and gave his full attention to Sir Basil.

“…everyone is present now, I can give you the schedule of events leading up the Joining. First, when we’re done here, you will be escorted to your chambers where you can prepare for dinner with our monarch and his wife, Their Royal Majesties King Vangard and Queen Smyrda, together with their children, Prince Tristan and Princess Yvonne.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder toward the curtained wall.

Spartas smiled, putting things together – at least one of the royal children was apparently the “spy.” He thought of his own childhood and his high level of curiosity, and understood.

“You will be escorted to the Royal Banquet Hall, so be sure that you’re ready when the servants come to your doors. Dinner robes have been provided for everyone in appropriate colors, and the King requests that you wear them. That is all for now. You will be given details about the Joining later. Welcome to Nipos,” he added, made a sharp bow, and returned to the curtained wall.

Spartas watched, waiting…ah. Yes, he was talking to someone behind the curtain, and the sudden appearance of a delicate hand that patted the Captain on the arm told him the Princess – what did he call her? Yvonne? – had been the eavesdropper. Chuckling, he turned to his knight. “Are you all right, Masori?”

“Your Highness?”

“Just making sure you had gotten over the, er, incident with King Akiros.”

“I suppose. Are the tikbalang all so rude?”

“What we consider rude, Masori, I think they see as normal and appropriate behavior.”

Masori made a noncommittal sound, shaking his head.

“This way, please,” said a pleasant-faced human who had approached the two elves. “I am Cortas and will be your escort this evening.”

“Thank you, Cortas. Please – ” Spartas waved him forward.

Cortas, dressed in what Spartas assumed from looking around at the other escorts was a uniform of sorts, stepped ahead of them and went out through the big doors. Like the curtains, the man’s clothing was of rich blue and gold brocade. The King of Nipos had to be in possession of extraordinary wealth, Spartas told himself.

“Just up these stairs, Highness.” Cortas began trotting up a wide flight of pink marble steps. The walls on either side were also of marble, but were white with gold veins and studded with an assortment of colorful gems, exactly as the merchant had described so long ago. A sumptuous palace, indeed!

The rooms into which they were led were lovely. The first chamber had on its shining wooden floor a number of thick, soft carpets of deep reds and blues in an intricate floral design. The windows, framed by some kind of reddish wood carved into swirls and florets, were glazed with leaded panes in a diamond pattern, the wine-red velvet curtains drawn back and held to the sides of the frame by shining bronze loops. The walls were the same gem-studded marble as the stairwell, and a massive canopied bed with thick wood posts carved to match the window frames was backed against one of the walls. Beside this on the left was a wardrobe that was large enough to hold a small army, while the left side was an open arch with a deep blue velvet curtain. Cortas pulled this back, tucked it behind another bronze tieback, and indicated that they should go in.

This room was a bit smaller but no less opulent.

“For your servant,” said Cortas, bowing. “You will find appropriate robes in your respective wardrobes. King Vangard, thinking that the storms might make traveling with trunks an impossibility, has used the information he has about the Guardians to have our tailors make all of you a set of comfortable robes for dinner, another for the Joining, and a change of day clothing.”

“Your king has been most considerate, Cortas. My thanks to him. Is there a basin where we might wash off the mud and grime from the road?”

“Indeed, King Spartas. They are in the small alcoves beside the windows. Don’t worry about emptying them. When you have gone to the Banquet Hall, servants will come and clean up in here for you.”

“What of my servant? Will he be coming with me?”

“To the meal, most certainly, but not to the Joining.”

“I see.” Nodding, he offered Masori a shrug before adding, “Very well. We shall be ready when you come back.”

Once Cortas was gone, Spartas removed his cloak, then held it, frowning.

“What is it?” asked Masori.

“Oh, nothing, really. I’m just loath to drape this over the bed. I think leaving smears of mud on the coverlet is poor thanks for King Vangard’s generosity.”

“Here.” Masori took the cloak and went to the massive wardrobe. Pulling open both sides, he peered inside. “As I suspected,” he said, his voice muffled, “there are unused hooks. I’ll put all of your things away if you wish, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. I’ll start washing up. But hurry, Masori – be sure you have enough time to get yourself ready, too.”

“I shall – hmm. There’s only one robe in here. Ah, and some slippers…smallclothes…bath sheets, too.”

“I imagine they only put one robe in there for now so we wouldn’t get confused about which one was for dinner.” Spartas removed his things and went to the alcove where he started sponging grime from his face and body.

“Here you go, Your Highness.” Masori, a cream and blue chevron-patterned robe over one arm, handed Spartas a soft bath sheet to dry himself with. “I’ll put this and the rest of your things on the bed.”

“Excellent.” Spartas smiled and continued his toilet.

Twenty minutes later, the elves were shoving their feet into their blue satin slippers when a knock sounded.

“Ah! Our escort is back, I imagine,” said Spartas. He felt wonderful now that he was clean once more.

The best feeling, of course, was plunging into one of the forest’s crystal clear streams and bathing in the sparkling sunshine. But after more than two weeks of trudging through torrential rains, mud that often covered their ankles, high winds that blew everything from insect swarms to tiny rodents in their faces and hair, a simple basin of clean water and fresh soap were more than enough to make him feel like a king again.

Masori went to the door where Cortas stood smiling.
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“Ah! I see you are ready! Please follow me,” said the servant with a respectful bow.

The route they took to the Banquet Hall showed them more of the magnificence of the Palace, and Spartas had to wonder if this way had been chosen for the purpose of letting King Vangard’s guests see a glimpse of his riches.

The Banquet Hall, while not as large as the room in which they’d first stood with the other Guardians, was every bit as splendid. A long table, one that was more than ample to fit all the Guardians and their servants, ran lengthwise down the center of the room, its surface covered with lace, golden candelabras glowing with pale blue candles, dishes of purest white on gold chargers, and silver utensils accented with light blue and gold enamel. The goblets at each setting were of etched crystal, the napkins of creamy white embroidered with a gold “V.”

The escorts brought all the guests to stand behind the chairs, and a moment later a trumpet sounded.

From behind a dark blue velvet curtain at the back of the platform facing the table, a man with a blue, red, gold, and white embroidered tunic stepped and announced, “Their Royal Majesties, King Vangard, Queen Smyrda, and the Royal Heirs, Prince Tristan and Princess Yvonne. All bow.”

The King of Nipos and his family emerged from the other side of the curtain and went to the throne-like chairs set up before their raised section of the table.

Spartas regarded him with surprise – the King of Nipos was a round individual with a huge, jovial smile, graying hair, a short, neat beard, and kind eyes. The elf liked him instantly.

The Queen, on the other hand, was tall, slender, and delicate-looking. Her light brown hair hung in thick braids that framed a beautiful face, and like her husband, her eyes twinkled with kindness.

Both the Prince and Princess seemed to take more after their mother, both being tall and slim. Prince Tristan stared out at the gathered assemblage, head cocked to one side, then the other as his gaze swept the assemblage at the table. Princess Yvonne, however, was smothering a series of yawns behind long, delicate fingers. From what Spartas had seen in the gathering room, he suspected she was experiencing some early-onset boredom. A pretty girl, the princess would no doubt outshine her mother in beauty when she got older.

The King went around his chair, but before sitting, raised his arms outward toward his guests. “Welcome to Nipos, friends and respected Guardians of the Crystal! I am honored with your presence as the ones entrusted to bring new life to Meridia. We may be of different races, but in this duty we are united in our common debt to the continued survival of our beautiful planet.

“As you know, we were once torn apart by war, which forced a mighty wizard to split the Crystal into the seven parts, thus ending that war. Today we celebrate peace, and have gathered both to accomplish the Joining and to see one another face-to-face, not as several disparate races, but as one people: Meridians!

“And now, before we all perish of hunger – ” He paused as most of the dinner guests laughed, and then continued, “I shall stop all this talk and invite you to enjoy not only the meal, but the entertainment I have arranged to make the evening as pleasant for you all as possible. Enjoy, my friends!” He sat, followed by his wife and children, and finally the guests.

As much as his stomach was grumbling, Spartas took time to see who was sitting by him. To his left, of course, was Masori, but beyond him, several ogres had lowered their considerable bulk into chairs crafted to accommodate the huge beings. Across from him were the nymphs, one of which he noticed was eyeing Masori with unexpected interest.

And to his right sat his new “friend” – King Akiros.