~ Chapter Twenty-Three ~ The King and Fallon

Fallon enters the dining area and hooks his leg over the bench adjacent to King Steward, who is tucking into his food with gusto, a trait the Lord carries into all he does. 

Fallon, clearing his throat, says, "Young Alaisdair was lost in his cups last night, and I heard him start to lose the excess Ale just a bit ago. I think he'll be along in an hour or two." Laughing, Fallon continues, "The young cannot do it like us. He was sleeping deeply when I left the sleeping quarters."

"Then, you have not yet told him who we are," King Steward says. "How and when are you planning the unveiling? I would think it clear to scare him or boost his ego."

"I've no immediate plans to talk to him about this matter. He needs to score multiple victories. He still needs to be proven, and he could go either way, and neither will give him the growth necessary for his role of being the monster hunter you need. It will be a while before we talk about personal matters. He appears to have an ego, so deflation may not be as much as inflation. He needs development, humility, and humor before we talk.

"What is the next occasion you have in mind for the young scamp," asks Fallon, rising to take a platter for his breaking of the fast.

*******

Alaisdair slowly awakens from the dream that had cocooned him from the daily noises of the Keep. His Lady came to him in the night, soothing his uneasiness of the task hinted upon by King Steward. Kissing his lips and awakening to that caress, he sees only a tiny glowing object winging away down the sleeping quarters' hallway.

He jumps up to follow, falling over the sleeping cloth entangled in his legs, crashing clumsily to his knees. "Drack! Drack! Drack!" Alaisdair utters in exasperation as he throws himself onto his butt and tugs at the covers winding about his legs. The harder he tugs to pull it off, the more entangled it becomes.

As his anger starts, he feels the feathery breeze of that husky, seductive voice in his ear, "It is not yet time for us to meet. So calm yourself for your meeting. King Steward waits for you."

His anger quickly melts as he muses about the ability of that soft voice to calm his tempests. Then, jumping to his feet, quickly locating his outerwear, and deftly pulling his long hair back into his daily plait, he runs towards the Warrior's Hall.

*******

Skidding to a stop before sedately entering the Hall, he tells himself to prepare for King Steward's forthcoming venture. He is confident he will fulfill it, but hopefully, it will be done soon.

Wanting to explore the countryside to utilize his Rina is a top priority to accomplish before returning to his clan. His goal of reaching the Bens, gathering the stone reputed to be lighter than a feather for use as an arrowhead, is also a desire to surprise his clan. 

But first, he pledged to follow and implement, moving him closer to his Lady.

Or was that only in his dream? No. He knows her. He must find her outside his dreams. Maybe the pledge was in his dreams, but her calming voice was in his ear.

Chuckling in amusement, he watches the stairway into the main building of the Fortress materialize as he lifts his foot in ascension. He concedes this must be Magic at work here, even if he does not believe it exists in his understanding.

The aroma of food reminds Alaisdair that breaking the fast is needed, especially as Supper seems to have gone out with the purging of his overindulgence in Ale.

As he seeks out the source of the tantalizing smell, he spies the room with the moving portals, the Warriors Hall, and looks and sees no one about it, and he decides a quick look-in would not be amiss. One portal appears more potent than the others, enticing him closer.

*******

"Why are you in this room?" Bellows Fallon. "King Steward waits for you in the dining hall. Come with me."

"I ... I … was planning a quick look and then seeking the King. I think this is a different way, isn't it?"

"No, Alaisdair, it is not," Fallon says, "You and I entered this same hallway … only yesterday. Come on. King Steward has a busy schedule. The room you entered is not yet for your inspection. You have hunts to complete before you are allowed access."

As Fallon continues to berate, Alaisdair wonders how like his father, Fallon appears both in speech and manners. 

In his daydreaming, he stumbles into Fallon, and they careen into the dining room, tumbling at King Steward's feet.

King Steward throws his head back, and guffaws of laughter echo throughout the high-ceilinged dining hall. "I now see how easily this young fellow causes disruption," he says as he reaches down to grasp Fallon's hand, hauling him to his feet.

Alaisdair scrambles to his feet, hurriedly dusting the lavender-scented rushes from his tunic, bowing down to King Steward, and murmuring, "I totally ask your forgiveness, My Lord."

"Your face aflame with embarrassment testifies to your sorrow at this mishap. Take a tray and get some food. I will meet you at my table," with that said, King Steward asks Fallon to join them as Fallon and his men also need Alaisdair's directives.

Finished eating, Alaisdair is directed to bring his dishes to the scullery and then return to get the orders for the day. As they wait, King Steward and Fallon speedily exchange information needed to serve and protect Alaisdair's safety as he sets off to catch the next monster.

The King asks Fallon, "Do you think the tunnel will confuse our young hunter again today?

"It may, but he is a fast learner. However, he is also highly curious, and then there is an object of affection he daydreams about."