“Oh, come on,” Anna chided. “Didn’t you take a good look at him? There’s no way he’s human.”
No, Ryan thought, I was too busy looking at the man I just killed.
Matt fingered his staff. “It wasn’t just the ears or the eyes, either, but the way he moved, and something I can’t put my finger on.”
Ryan said, “Even if that’s true and we accept that elves are generally good people, that still doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own plans or agenda. We can’t just trust someone because he’s an elf.”
Anna nodded. “True, but saving our lives goes a long way.” At the mention of saved lives, Ryan frowned.
As someone knocked on the door, Eric said, “I think tonight we should all sleep in the same room, with one of us on watch.”
“Good idea.” Matt went for the door, adding, “Let’s stay together at this dinner, too.”
Eric nodded. “Or for that matter, until we’re back on Earth.”
They followed an escort down halls and an ornate, grand staircase, celebratory music growing louder until they reached the banquet, when the music stopped and all eyes turned to them, applause and cheers erupting. The Great Hall stood seventy feet high, with large tapestries of hunting scenes covering the limestone walls. The musicians sat on a balcony at one end opposite an enormous fireplace. In between stood six tables long enough to sit fifty people each, every seat filled but theirs.
They soon sat at a prominent place near the queen, Prime Minister, and the wizard. Ryan as Lord Korrin and the Anna as Lady Eriana sat on one side, Matt as the Majestic Majus Soliander and Eric as the Silver-Tongued Rogue Andier on the other. Lorian and two elves looked on nearby. Queen Lorella made some suitable comments regarding the occasion, during which Ryan noted the food looked familiar – turkey legs and breasts, hot breads and buns, chopped and whole vegetables like carrots, radishes, and ears of corn, stuffing, roasted boar, some kind of fish with the head still on, a pasta dish in red sauce, and wines and meads. While dining, Ryan first evaded questions with mouthfuls of food as an excuse, but soon he deflected people with his own questions, particularly those of several knights asking about his equipment or battle strategies. They seemed pleased at his inquiries and eager to brag, so he let them, but their related exploits ground everything in stark reality, reminding him he was an abject novice and imposter.
After dinner, when servants cleared the floor for dancing, Korrin became the object of many a woman’s – and in truth, a few men’s – fancy. Ryan’s upbringing had included lessons in this kind of ballroom dancing, and though he didn’t know the steps, he learned more quickly than Anna and Eric. He wasn’t in the mood for it, and while some of the small talk with strangers distracted him, others kept asking about Korrin’s exploits, reminding him of death.
During dinner, Eric had sipped wine while discreetly observing the attendees, from wait staff to guards, nobles, elves, and even the queen, whose eyes weren’t the only ones on them. Glances came from all corners, but one group had felt out of place to him, their manners less refined, their glances too obvious. They seemed less like courtly fops and more like those living by their wits and sword. A rather dashing man among them had caught his eye and exchanged nods. Eric knew when someone was keeping an eye on them and hadn’t liked it.
He hadn’t failed to notice Ryan’s preoccupation since the attack. Their talk at RenFest about Ryan not wanting to hurt anyone stayed fresh in his mind. Perhaps the big guy really meant it, though he didn’t know why that was such a big deal to him. You had to draw the line at people trying to kill you. If the attacker ended up dead as a result, it was their own fault; they should’ve thought of that before attempting murder. Ryan had been right to do what he’d attempted, and while being remorseful was one thing, beating yourself up was another. He’d seen Anna console him too, and he was a bit annoyed that he’d gotten all of her attention. He’d killed someone, too, and just because he didn’t let on so much didn’t mean he wasn’t also upset.
Once dancing began, Andier’s mischievous nature apparently attracted its own kind of women to Eric, and while most were subtle about wanting amorous attention, others weren’t. They seemed to think it was all right to be honest with Eric about their desire to be naughty, and he wondered just who this Andier fellow was. Maybe he had a reputation Eric needed to uphold. A glance at Ryan suggested the wholesome women had gone after him as Korrin while the sexed up ones went for Andier. Eric could live with that – or so he thought until he saw Anna’s dance partner. It was the dashing man he’d noted earlier, and from the way he was looking at her, he clearly had naughty ideas of his own.
“My Lady Hope,” began the man to Anna, bowing as he cut in on someone. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. I am Cirion of Ormund.” One rough hand took hers while the other found the small of her back, both suggestive and possessive. She thought his mysterious, dark eyes seemed amused and probing, dancing a fine line between making it clear what he wanted and giving himself plausible deniability. He cut a lean figure in a green tunic that hugged his broad shoulders, black hair catching on the turned up collar of his black shirt. He seemed somehow nimble and quick, as if he’d never let himself be still long enough to get complacent. The phrase “a rolling stone gathers no moss” came to mind, his strong jaw suggesting he was in full command of his journeyman life and would have it no other way.
“To what do
