IT was a grand and graceful banquet of princes at the Castle of Waterfort. And Prince Xandur was numbered among the nobles gracing the élite feast.
Yet Xandur of Olde Glassfield hadn’t come here by an invitation from the host. He’d simply come to find someone like himself. Someone who shared his very interest.
A heirsen he could team up with, to bring down a foe.
It was Prince Dalleon of Waterfort throwing a feast that evening, there at Waterfort’s own Garden of Honour.
The famous protector was celebrating a recent development – the expansion of his city borders.
Yes, this was Xandur’s first time in a social gathering. For the old noble had only been about fighting the Battle for the Bastards in time past. He’d only been about keeping the Feast of Remembrance, too.
Indeed, the élite banquet in Waterfort was Xandur’s very first. But the Glassfield prince only oozed with graceful competence all through that evening.
Prince Xandur radiated a charming, charismatic poise, as he sleekly joined a chatter and smoothly started another.
And he went from circles to circles, sparking up Dalleon’s great banquet with his registered presence.
Yet Xandur of Olde Glassfield hadn’t come here to boost his own name. Nor had he come to pride himself on his graceful airs.
Noble Xandur had come to Waterfort for that one purpose: to find someone to join hands with, for the downfall of Arstol.
But Xandur was frustrated by now.
For evening was fast falling into night, and the party winding down already… and still the old heirsen couldn’t find that someone.
Someone really clever enough to partner with.
Now the Glassfield noble sat exhausted in a lone seat; and he spanned his gaze around the widespread garden, lit up by giant torches of golden flames.
The old prince looked around the peopled Garden of Honour, as it occurred to him right then that there was yet one person he hadn’t got a chat with.
It was the celebrant himself. It was the famed Dalleon of Waterfort.
Xandur hadn’t ever met with Dalleon. He was only able to secure access to the host prince’s banquet through an acquaintance.
And so, old Xandur knew next to nothing about the Waterfort prince. He knew nothing about his very person.
Prince Xandur scanned through the widespread garden for the party host.
He’d seen him a little after he addressed the seated guests. But the Glassfield noble was finding it difficult to locate Dalleon now.
And right about then, Xandur had a voice call from behind him.
‘Xandur Prince of Olde Glassfield…!’ the voice bellowed.
The old prince turned back to see who called. And it was a younger heirsen standing right behind him.
The youngster bawled. ‘Wouldn’t it be sheer waste if you fly back without meeting the host?’
Xandur was hit at that brash call. He glanced up at the young thing glaring down at him right now. And he wondered who he was.
He thought: Who is this rude thing? Who’s this fellow to talk to me this way?
‘You’re wondering who I must be, aren’t you?’ quipped the young chap. ‘Who I must be to talk to the breather of fire this way?’
Xandur felt awkward now. He thought to say something in response to the daring, rude talker. But nothing came to him at all.
Yet before the older heirsen could gather his thoughts together, the young fellow spoke up.
‘Come with me, Olde Glassfield,’ he said. ‘I’ll let you meet Dalleon of Waterfort.’
Xandur heaved a satisfied breath now.
He stood up and followed without a word.
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© July 2021 Kayode & Tola Olla