A Dinner for Dukes

[Gaelberus]

Over a hundred diners ate in the banquet hall of Duke Herman of Culbert, all of them sitting at a gigantic, u-shaped table as the low roar of their voices filled the air. Above them hung sparkling chandeliers, clad in gold with the candlelight from the wall-mounted candles in the room bouncing like a glint off of their encrusted glass jewels. Around them were majestic, vaulted, ceiling-high windows, from which were draped flowing velvety curtains, and through which a diner could see the navy blue outline of the dusk-time city horizon. The room was littered with an array of carefully placed statues and potted plants, both of which complimenting very nicely the heavily ornate molding on the walls and ceiling.

On the table sat the most marvelous display of luxurious food and drink that only a duke of Begnion could offer. The dishes were exemplar of the finest of gold and silver finery, and upon them sat foods of unquestionable quality: wild fowl, roast venison, honey-glazed pork, fresh berries, sweetmeats, and much more. And while diners ate, they were treated to the jovial sounds of music, accompanied by the twirling of energetic dancers to entertain the guests's eyes while their ears and mouths were delighted. It must be said that if anyone tried to accuse Duke Herman of being a poor host, they would have little ground to stand on.

But the host was never the one you needed to worry at parties like these. It was the other guests that were constantly looking for a chink in your armor. They would make you think they were your friends, ply you with wine, then get you to spill your guts, and if the wine didn't do it, usually a knife would. But such displays of violence were rare among Begnion nobles, especially among themselves, as they usually held enough respect for their opponents to attack them politically. It was also more useful as well to have someone in power under your thumb than it was to have them dead. No, it was the foreigners that had to watch their bellies for wounds, but fortunately for Gaelberus, very few enforcers had the guts to draw a blade upon a full grown lion of Gallia, and most poisons that would kill a Beorc would only make him incredibly sick. Not ideal, true, and Gaelberus had gone through a very severe bout of poison sickness once, but it was better than death.

"So, Gallian, how are you familiar with Duke Herman?" came a voice from the corner of Gaelberus's ear. He turned to identify the source, only to see a kindly looking old woman staring up at him. It was none other than the Lady Regent's mother, Lady Astre. By her tone, it sounded as if she was just making friendly conversation, and she probably was, but one had to always take care to not say anything stupid.

"Gaelberus, Lady Astre," the lion began, introducing himself quickly while showing he knew who she was. "I've only met the duke in person a handful of times, and only for a short while at that, but I'm currently working with one of his earls to establish proper trade routes between Culbert and our mutual ally Hatari."
"Oh?" came her response, a genuine interest on her face. "But aren't you Gallian? What stake does Gallia have between Begnion and Hatari?"
"Hatari has expressed interest in increased trade with Gallia," Gaelberus explained, "but all of the current routes run through the Sea of Faraj, which makes our ships susceptible to pirates. By securing a path through the Desert of Death, Gallia would be able to divert much of its trade to land routes. This would take longer, but it would be a much safer alternative until the Faraji pirates have been dealt with."
"And Culbert would profit greatly by becoming the land trade gateway to Tellius Minor, correct?" Gaelberus nodded.
"Correct, Lady Astre. All parties would see benefit." Lady Astre didn't seem so convinced.

"But I'm sure you've considered the potential transport taxes that Duke Herman may put in place on Gallia?" she asked, pointing out the potential hole in Gaelberus's point. "You would be giving the duke complete control." The lion did his best to hide a wry grin. The Lady was still sharp.
"It is my job to consider that," Gaelberus replied, not allowing the woman to find flaw in his logic. "King Zorig believes it is worth paying Duke Culbert the extra gold in exchange for the safety of avoiding Faraji waters. It is up to me to make sure that the cost stays low." Lady Astre nodded in agreement.
"Well make sure you do, lion of Gallia," she affirmed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Duke Herman already has a high opinion of himself, and I fear that if he gets much more gold in his treasury, he may fancy himself above his station." She paused, then asked Gaelberus one last question. "And who did you say you were working with?"
"Earl Fredrich of Dolfan," the lion replied.
"Ah, what a nice man! Strong choice in partner, Gaelberus. I'll make sure to let him know we talked." the old woman commented, before turning away from the Gallian and striking up conversation with an older, balding man on her other side.

This left Gaelberus to shift his gaze across the table to see Duke Culbert, stiff as board, taking a small bite of pheasant. By the look on his face he didn't seem to enjoy it, but from what the Gallian knew of the duke, he never looked like he was enjoying anything. And who knows? Maybe he didn't.

[Boldt]

She sat near the end of the semicircle table. Appearances would suggest she was a mere lowly noble invited to the festivities out of pity. The fact that she was a noble was clear. She had obviously been through several years of court training as she greeted and conversed with the stray gentleman who dared to approach her and speak. Her dress was a sky blue affair, slimming and long. Silver seemed to subtly glint from within giving a shimmering quality to her every move. It was flattering but not too revealing. Her hair was braided into a ponytail that reached just below her neck. The picture of a young noblewoman. Her eyes slowly roved over the crowd of people, even as she ate a small portion of food. A faint smile seemed to touch the edge of her lips. A cursory glance would suggest she was merely glad to be in such a distinguished venue. And, in a way, she was. But not for reasons most people would think. A closer inspection of the young woman would reveal a few peculiarities. The faint smile did not reach her eyes. There was a coldness in her dark green eyes as they passed over the crowds of people mulling about. The was a slight tremor in her hand giving away her nervousness. Her breathing was exceptionally slow, proving just how hard she was fighting to sit still. But these things were not something people would notice unless they cared to look closer. And, honestly, few could take the time to inspect every single person, especially one so unimportant.

Boldt was at the banquet for one reason and one reason only: a job. Her first substantial job actually. Bounty hunting wasn't exactly the most lucrative or well-known occupation. Assassinations were the common business for people like her, but Boldt wouldn't limit herself to such a narrow category. Plus, she really didn't like the idea of killing people unemotionally for money the way assassins did. Capture was much more effective, but she she wasn't against killing if it came to that point. Still, she was thrilled to have gotten the new job, even though she didn't know what it exactly entailed other than a high payout. All she knew was that she was invited to the banquet to meet with a noble who would explain the job to her. The person who had informed her had been very discreet so the fact that she was meeting this man in at such a gathering seemed strange, but nobles always had a peculiar way to do things. The money and fame easily went to their heads it seemed.

“Lady Swifthale, if you would follow me please.” An attendant stood nearby. “Earl Conroyd is waiting,” he added when she didn’t move immediately.

“Oh,” Boldt replied as she stood up. Following the attendant, she made her way farther up the table, closer to the host. Other attendants and the occasional chatter-box prevented the two from looking suspicious. As they walked, Boldt noticed the attendant’s movements were more of a warrior than that of a servant. Somewhat concerned, she filed that thought away for later. At roughly halfway between where she was sitting and the host was, the attendant gestured to a seat next to a quite stunning young man. Another man occupying the seat beside the young man stood up quietly and began walking down to the spot Boldt had been sitting at originally. Taking the seat next to Earl Conroyd, Boldt calmly scanned the table of guests once more. She was practically shaking with excitement and nervousness but training in decorum successfully planted her firmly in the chair.

Conroyd turned to look at her. “You are as beautiful as the reports say,” he commented. Boldt blushed slightly but still didn’t say anything. “But you’re here for business and not flattery, I suppose.” He swirled his drink thoughtfully. “Very well. The Gallian lion you see over yonder…” Boldt nodded. “…I want you to capture him and bring him to my estate.”

Boldt’s jaw threatened to drop. Pursed lips promptly prevented that breach of protocol. “What for?” she asked.

“That’s not for you to worry about,” he smiled.

Confused, Boldt pressed for more. “Yes, it is. I may decline if it is truly damning. He’s a lion. Which probably means a dignitary of some sort. There will be an uproar, literally and figuratively if he disappears.” She did not need to be the start of a war between nations.

“I think you’ll find this to be an offer you can’t refuse.” Conroyd’s smile made a devilish twist. “How do you think you got into this place? It certainly wasn’t for free.” Bastard. thought Boldt. He was going to make her pay for the entrance.

“You expect me to be able to catch him by myself? It’d take a team to bring him down,” she stated emphatically.

“No, I really don’t.” His evil smile seemed to spread across his whole face. “I expect you to fail, and when you do, you’ll be mine. I’ve had you checked, Miss Swifthale. I know about your past. No one will even notice you’re gone.” Boldt seethed, but before she could respond Conroyd added, “And don’t even think of running. My men will be following you.” He indicated the attendant still standing close by. “Once you fail, and I know you will, they will be there to pick you up and the lion as well.”

She was caught, and she knew it. She was so stupid. It should have been obvious that it was a trap, but the thought of making some decent coin had clouded her judgment. Stupid. she berated herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was supposed to have learned from her mistakes over the past two years. But apparently it had done nothing for her. “So tell me the details of this mission,” she sighed.

“Ohoho, still going to carry out the request?” he laughed. “I expected you just to give up once you realized just how hopeless this is. But that's okay. I like a little fight in my women.” Pig. Cur. Boldt inwardly raged against the prison placed around her. She would prove this man wrong. “His name is Gaelberus. He’s here to make a treaty for trade purposes. My people want that stopped. And they want the lion for… other reasons as well.”

“That's not a lot to go on. Do you have any way for me to get close enough to capture him, or do you just expect me to ride up in the night and whisk him away?” she asked.

“That’s for you to figure out, my lovely bounty hunter. I will do you a favor and get you a seat closer to lion though. You can decide what to do from there.” Apparently done speaking, Conroyd focused on the food in front of him, digging in with gusto. Boldt frowned deeply as the attendant helped her to her feet. Just what kind of a nightmare had she just been thrown into? The man led her close enough to the lion that she could hear him talking but far enough that she wouldn’t be easily noticed. There was a four seat gap between the two.

As soon as she sat down, the man next to her struck up a conversation. It was meaningless babble and when the noble winked at her she understood. This man was another plant, much like the attendant. How far does this conspiracy go? she couldn’t help but wonder. As the man continued to talk, it was obvious that she was expected to listen to Gaelberus. Eavesdropping was not going to be a pleasant experience, but there was little else she could do. It was the only way to get information. She cursed Conroyd and herself.

[Gaelberus]

The night continued on, with Gaelberus choosing largely to refrain from conversation, instead favoring the two large ham shanks he had pulled from the plate in front of him. In Begnion, it wasn't exactly dignified to eat meat straight from the bone while at a dinner party for nobles, and the great lion knew that, but he knew he'd get a good bit of slack for being a lion of Gallia, and thus took full advantage of it. The meat was succulent and cooked to perfection. He could feel the warm juices running down his throat with every bite, and it was so delicious that Gaelberus almost felt bad for biting it and swallowing it in such large portions, but figured he was going to be eating more than the Beorc attendees anyways, so that made up for it. That, or it made it even worse.

It was then, midst his chewing, or rather lack thereof, that Gaelberus eyed a beautiful looking woman a ways away, her purple hair flowing down over the shoulders of her silvery, sky blue dress. She was clearly Beorc, as were most who had been invited to Duke Culbert's estate, but there was something else to this one. Most of the women here were either frail and slender, something Beorc nobility apparently found attractive, or round and portly, a clear sign of wealthy overindulgence, and both were something that Gaelberus found unattractive in women. Like his father, and his father's father, the lion liked strong, muscled women, and he noticed that, under the drapes of her dress, this women was just that. She was no Laguz of course; lion women were known for their powerful builds, but for a Beorc woman, this purple haired noble had an impressive frame. Perhaps she was of a lower family that did not have the luxury of being pampered as much as nobility like house Culbert, and as such had physical work required of her.

That had been something that had stood out to Gaelberus the first time he had been exposed to Beorc society. In Laguz society, the rulers, the nobles if you will, consist of the strongest, fittest, and most fearsome of their race. However, in Beorc society, it was not strange to see physically weaker specimens ruling over warriors far stronger than them. They ruled with arbitrary qualifiers like their bloodline, or their divine right. It had been odd initially, yes, but it was crucial to understanding the way Beorc worked, and after spending as much time as he had across Tellius playing diplomat, it had almost become second nature to him as well.

The lion's stomach growled, and not in the hungry way, interrupting his wandering thoughts of his ideal woman and forcing him to put down his food. He quickly looked from left to right, in an attempt to locate his sought destination.
"Excuse me," he said to no one in particular as he stood up, now towering over the patrons sitting beside him. "Nature calls." The lion then nodded politely to the other guests and headed out of the banquet hall in search of the restroom.

[Boldt]

As time wore on, Boldt became more aggravated. One, the lion wasn't revealing much about himself. In fact, he wasn't talking at all! Boldt needed every bit of information possible given that this particular laguz was huge. She had put on a brave face against Earl Conroyd but now she was faced with the futility of her situation. She could see her tormentor clearly, his smug expression irked her. The man next to her continued to drone on and on. Doesn't he get tired of talking? she began to wonder. The Gallian moved, breaking Boldt's mental conundrum. "Excuse me, Nature calls." She nearly died laughing. Court training quickly snuffed that out, allowing only a slight giggle to pass her lips. She wasn't going to say anything, but a few people around her began to stare. Apparently even a little bit of humor was not appreciated where the lion was concerned. Of course, his size seemed to intimidate most of the people around and the fact he was here on business for Gallia had not gone unnoticed. This person was a force to be reckoned with. And if Boldt had her way there would be a reckoning.

A moment's pause was all that was necessary for an idea to come to her. Rising from her chair, Boldt gracefully curtsied. "I must apologize." Turning quickly, she followed her target, though at a quicker pace in order to catch up to him. She needed to establish contact with the ambassador before the night was over. It was the only way to get close enough to learn anything about him. And she needed information. Conroyd wasn't very helpful at all, and his men were just a nuisance. The thought had occurred to her to try and get some assistance from the powerful character in front of her, but a quick glance behind showed the same man followed her, even now. It wasn't obvious, but Boldt could tell he would be watching her. She groaned internally. "Excuse me, sir," she called out to the laguz, focusing on the current possibilities. "I know you're busy," she smiled again, "but I must apologize for earlier. It was rude of me."

[Gaelberus]

Gaelberus raised a pained eyebrow as he heard a woman's voice call after him. He groaned as his stomach rumbled once again in distress. Now? Couldn't it wait until he was back from the bathroom? He turned to see his pursuer, the purple-haired girl with the muscled arms, walking towards him.

"I know you're busy, but I must apologize for earlier. It was rude of me."

Apologize? Apologize for what? The Gallian mentally ran through the events of last couple of minutes, but could find no reason for the girl to be apologizing to him. If anything, he knew he might have cause to apologize as he had been staring at her earlier, and he knew the Beorc liked to apologize for that. As a Laguz, that was something he had never understood. If someone finds something pleasing to look at, they continue to look at it. If I am staring at you, it means I find your look pleasing. One should take it as a compliment!
"Well I appreciate the sentiment behind your apology," replied Gaelberus, successfully hiding his discomfort with a smile, "but I really don't see anything that you would have to apologize to me of all people for. Now if you'll excuse me..."

The lion gave a slight bow, then turned away in an attempt to reach the bathroom. If he was lucky, the girl would leave it at that.

[Boldt]

"Well I appreciate the sentiment behind your apology, but I really don't see anything that you would have to apologize to me of all people for. Now if you'll excuse me..." Unable to properly talk with the lion, Boldt let him go. Especially since he seemed quite tense. Most likely the call of Nature was extremely strong. Boldt calmly waited until he was gone checking her surroundings to make sure there was no one else around. After she confirmed it was just her new personal shadow, she burst out laughing. Maybe it was impolite, but someone who turns into an animal having to answer "Nature's call" was just too funny. Clearly, he wasn't bothered by her laughter, or he didn't hear it. It was probably just the beorc around her who thought it was in bad manners to laugh. Just another reason she hated the nobles, especially in Begnion. Maybe it was a deep-seated hatred implanted by her ancestors, but Boldt was irked by the people at the party. Most notably, the group of people who had put her in the current bind.

Realizing, she was alone, Boldt began pacing back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. It was much easier to think without all the people around her, jabbering away with their nonsense about who did this and who was wearing that. The only talk Boldt was interested in was work. And currently she was all alone in that department. Boldt sighed, leaning against the wall for support. Closing her eyes, she began some steady breathing exercises, allowing her mind to relax and her thoughts to flow. She could feel the cold, stone ground on her bare soles. In the heat of the last while, she had failed to noticed just how smooth and organized the whole place was. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of talking coming from the dining area. Sound traveled very well in this place. No one was around except the shadow-attendant and the occasional servant running back and forth. And the servants were so busy they would not likely be able to even remember her. She had a plan. Not wasting any time, Boldt began quickly walking after her target, hoping he was still just a little preoccupied with Nature's call. It still made her snicker.

[Gaelberus]

Too distracted by his groaning abdomen to notice that the purple haired lady had begun to follow him once again, Gaelberus quickly picked up the pace, making a semi-mad dash for the bathroom. Oooohhhh, it was getting worse! He charged down the hall, like a large hairy force of nature, before sliding to a stop. Left or right, left or right!? There, at the end of the hall...right!

After almost bowling over a kind looking servant girl, the Gallian lion finally found his way to the restroom, and after stepping in, slammed the door behind him. A long while passed while Gaelberus answered nature's call, creating quite a ruckus while doing so. Then, when he was done, he emerged slowly from the washroom, awkwardly looking around if just to make sure that nobody had been around to hear him. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw no one. He hadn't expected to be so...loud, but there had apparently been something in his food. Whether it was a weak poison or just indigestion Gaelberus couldn't be sure, since in the end, his body usually reacted the same to both. He figured the former, however, since lions were known for their strong constitutions, and he doubted weak beorc food could cause such a reaction.

"Time to head back to the party, I guess," the lion muttered to himself.