Sauragia

Chapter 3

King Henrik of Cardolin sighed as he cast his eyes over the two guilty parties in front of him. This was the third time in a year not half over. It was the same old story and he was getting tired of hearing it, especially with so many bigger issues crying for his attention. He looked first to the taller of the two and spoke, his voice calm and steady in spite of his flaring temper.

“Robert,” he began. “I understand you and Alfred here have had some sort of disagreement…again. Tell me, what was it over this time?”

“Well, milord,” said the well-mannered Robert, casting a spiteful glance at his fellow culprit, “this chap here, in a rather rude manner, brushed my shoulder. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and apologized like it was an accident, but he wouldn’t let it lie. Jolly well insulted me and my father with some choice words. So, I gave him a good ole right cross, and it sort of took off from there.”

The king gestured toward the other, who wore a sour glare almost regularly on his pale green face.

“Well, Alfred? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Staring fiercely back at King Henrik, he announced smugly, “So what if I did? The clumsy clod should have watched where he was going. My father says…”

“Enough!” bellowed the king, slamming a fist down on the arm of the throne. He rose to his full height, which was nothing to scoff at, and continued on his tirade. “Your father has nothing to do with this, Alfred Redding. Your actions are your own now. You’ve been told about starting fights with your fellows. The leniency I have shown you since you first joined the Guard has run thin, and I will not tolerate this sort of foolishness in my keep any longer.” He stopped and turned on the other, who had been keeping up his accusatory looks at Alfred.

“And you, Rob,” he opened up. “You, too, should know better by now. Just because duelling is not allowed without my approval does not mean brawling is a more acceptable alternative for settling your differences. Why must you let him bait you into it every time?”

“Well sir, I…”

King Henrik cut him off by holding up a claw.

“On second thought, I’d rather not hear it.” He sighed, then proceeded in a more controlled tone. “It is clear to me that you both require some lessons in civility. You will turn in your swords to the chief quartermaster immediately, and will be placed on cleaning duty for a month. When you have learnt some decency, you may be returned to your old posts.”

Rob meekly accepted the punishment and bowed his head in shame. Alfred, however, was livid, and willingly said so out loud.

“You can’t do this! This is servant’s duty. My father will hear of this, and when he does…”

“I will hear no more out of either of you!” roared King Henrik. “Go now!”

Even Alfred knew better than to challenge his sovereign when he was like this. The king might be old and slightly hunched now, but he had been a fearsome fighter in his day, and still practised with his big broadsword regularly. The wild glint in his eye when thoroughly riled still echoed of those days, and was enough to make even the bravest avert his gaze. The two miscreants took their leave without further comment, followed by the stifled giggle of Princess Alyssa, who stood right behind King Henrik’s throne. She loved it when her father gave others a dressing down—especially Alfred.

As soon as the door had closed behind Robert and Alfred, the king sighed and shook his head.

“When will those two ever learn?” he questioned aloud.

“When they receive their lessons from a sterner teacher,” answered Richard Torilis, Henrik’s closest friend, advisor, and Captain of the Guard.

“Richard, my old friend,” he spoke to the handsome middle-aged dinosaur with wavy crest. “How do you mean sterner? I was just wondering if, perhaps, I was not a bit hard on them just now.”

“That is exactly what I mean, Henrik,” replied Richard, the only dinosaur who could use the king’s name on its own without fear of reproof. “Admittedly we are all young and foolhardy once, but that does not excuse us from growing up sometime. You did well, my king.”

Just then a guard entered the chamber, bowing before he spoke:

“My lord, one of the gate guards has just arrived with a lad from the country who says he wishes to see you. Says you knew his father.”

“His father?” repeated the king. “Who is this dinosaur?”

“Sturdy young bloke named Astron. Warrior type, by the look of him. Shall I let him in?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Henrik, and the guard made his exit. He soon returned with the dusty, lanky form of Astron following. His claws clicked noticeably on the stone-tiled floor as he strode into the centre of the court. The young Alvarosaurus felt a little embarrassed with so many eyes on him, especially considering how he was presently dressed. But he carried on as his father had instructed with head held high. He stopped and knelt gracefully before the king.

“Rise up, stranger,” spoke the king using his more common, friendly tone of voice. Astron did as instructed. “Now, tell us all what you want here, and who is your father that I should know him?”

“I am Astron, son of Argon. My purpose is explained in this letter my father wrote for you, sire.” He took the letter and held it out.

“Fetch it for me, would you Richard?” requested the king.

While this exchange took place, Astron noticed the king’s daughter glaring at him imperiously from her exalted place behind the throne. He fleetingly wondered what someone so pretty had to look so sour about, but maintained an impassive face as he continued to survey the whole court. He watched as King Henrik read the letter slowly, a broad grin spreading over his face.

“This is Argon’s script, all right,” he chuckled as he finished. “Never could spell worth a frog’s eye.” Even Richard managed a curt smile at this. “He says that you are his only son, and that you have come to seek a place among my Guard. Is that correct?”

“It is, sir.”

“The sword at your side I recognize as his. Can you wield it?”

“I have some knowledge, sir.”

Henrik laughed aloud now, his jovial old self again. “The same modesty as your father. Though, if I may say, you have your mother’s grace. How is dear Wynfred, by the way?”

“As lively as ever,” replied Astron, colouring a little at the compliment.

“That is good to hear. At any rate, your father speaks very highly of you, and from what I can see, he speaks the truth. Your strength and bearing tell me all I need to know, and quite frankly I think we could use more of your type around here. Besides, I could not refuse old Argon’s request after all he did for me in former days. Speaking of which, that blade of yours has seen better ones.” He paused momentarily, then turned to another guard. “Go fetch Robert and bring him back here.”

The guard went out and returned with all speed. Robert had not gone far since turning in his sword, and was there in a trice.

“Robert, I have a job for you,” spoke the king. “Young Astron here is now the newest member of the Guard. Take him where he can get his sword refurbished and a thorough wash. Fetch him a uniform, then show him around. If he is hungry, find him something to eat, and if he is tired, show him his new quarters. He is entirely in your care. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely, milord!” replied Robert enthusiastically. He was glad that the king was no longer mad at him, and actually entrusting him with such an important duty. “Come on, old chap!” he said, leading Astron away by the arm.

“Thank you, sire!” said Astron, managing a half bow before the effervescent Robert dragged him away. As he left the court, Astron was likewise feeling quite pleased with the way things had turned out. His new life in Saurahall had begun!