He jerked the trigger, releasing the arrow towards the target in the northeastern corner of the courtyard and, before the arrow had traversed half the distance between bowman and target, three other steel-tipped missiles had been launched at various other targets set at corners around the courtyard. In a matter of moments, four painted targets had been impaled dead center with quivering arrows and shouts of approval and whistles of encouragement arose from the jubilant on-lookers. Edgar smiled appreciatively and waved around the courtyard at his friends. He could see the Chancellor of the castle applauding from the left, talking quietly and solemnly with the Matron, who was red-cheeked with sun exposure.
�Fantastic work, Lord King! Your marksmanship improves with every session,� his training master intoned in honest praise. �Your inventions are quite phenomenal indeed, although you know I still believe they take away from the true art of archery.�
Edgar laughed boisterously at that, slapping the older man on his shoulder now. He had heard these lectures every other session and would never think of contradicting the master about his beliefs. Edgar�s cloak fluttered in the hot, dry wind that swept through the open courtyard and he held it down with his free hand, waiting for the most recent gale to quiet down. Looking around the grey-stoned main courtyard of Figaro castle, Edgar could see people in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of the open space, even lining the parapets that framed the courtyard, shoulder-to-shoulder. He smiled openly, and bowed before them, another wave of applause erupting at the recognition given. Edgar turned towards the other archer once again.
�Master Dajon, you know that I only seek to improve my combat skills for the good and the glory of the Empire by applying my one rather weak skill with machinery to your own very extraordinary skill with the bow.� Again he laughed openly and sarcastically at this statement, and Dajon joined him in his gay banter.
Others had drawn around the King now wishing to praise his improvement with the bow and arrow, and his bodyguard pushed among them quickly to secure the King�s safe return to the castle walls. Edgar knew that it was for his own protection, but he had always believed his place was with and among his people. He let himself be led back into the central chambers, sullenly tossing his ponytail from left to right shoulder and then finally letting it just hang limply down his back.
�Oh, how I wish you would sever that sickening extension with quick approach, dear King. How your father would have fussed over such a blatant disregard for royal tender. Harrumph!�
The high-pitched drone of the Chancellor was clearly audible over the clang of the sentries� armor as the troupe moved along the main castle corridor now, and Edgar chose to ignore the pleas of the old nag. He unbuttoned the top three clasps of his white silk chemise in an attempt to cool himself and heard several satisfied sighs of approval from the younger maidens in the vicinity of his entourage. He smiled inwardly, always appreciative of the response that his finely toned, muscular body drew from the females in the castle. He was always the gentleman, never seeking to forcibly enter a woman�s good will, yet still he was just a man like other men. Sighing at the thought of his kingly duties ahead, he reminded himself that there was nothing ordinary about the man that stared back at him from the mirror each morning.
A sudden shout from the entrance to the castle�s inner sanctum drew Edgar back to his senses and he turned in time with the Chancellor to see one of the gate guards running towards the troupe, holding his helmet in place as he did so. The bright colors of Figaro�s emblem were clearly visible on the front of his breastplate and as he ran, the clang of his metal boots echoed throughout the corridor. Why on earth did the Captain of the Guards insist on his recruits wearing iron armor for the first three months of training in this desert�s heat?
�Lord King! Lord Edgar! There is a visitor at the front gates!� the rattling youth shouted, panting horribly as he screeched to a halt and settled into the appropriate salute reserved for royalty. Sweat rolled in waves from his helmeted forehead and he seemed to be totally oblivious to that fact. He looked only at King Edgar.
�Yes?� the Chancellor replied, �and why does this guest require such an urgent and unrestrained introduction, young man?�
The ruffled recruit looked from King to Chancellor and back again, mouth agape, tongue apparently stuck to the roof of his mouth.
�It�s ok, Merlith. Who is it?� Edgar asked calmly, directing his attention to the out-of-breath youth. At hearing his name being uttered from the King�s mouth, Merlith�s eyes widened in surprise and joy. He continued his report to the King after finding he could speak once again.
�My Lord, the man in green is here again, accompanied by a young lady with green hair. He has proclaimed the Tones of High Passage.� This last he stated in but a whisper, probably afraid that some fiend may have the fortune of overhearing their conversation.
Edgar smiled openly now and turned to the Chancellor as the young guard left their company to return to his duties, grasping the elder by the shoulders.
�Open the gates and receive them personally, my friend. Bring them directly to the throne room. I�ve been expecting him for some time now. Make them comfortable and let them freshen up if they wish to do so before meeting me.�
�My Lord,� the Chancellor began, �this� this� ROGUE! You will let him into our castle unguarded and with open arms? His type is not�� the Chancellor paused and leaned in closer to the King, lowering his tone, �his type is not welcome here!� he finished in a rushed and loud whisper.
Edgar grinned quite mischievously now at the Chancellor and replied quite loudly, for all the court to hear, �I see, my trusted advisor. Now please tell me, what exactly is his type, Lord Chancellor?�
With a grunt of disapproval Edgar knew all too well, the elderly gentleman twisted around with an air of hurtful grace, his smooth deerhide beret balancing precariously upon his head, and retraced his steps to the courtyard on his way to the castle�s main gates. Edgar trusted the Chancellor to be quite welcoming and very polite while greeting the newcomers; however he would prefer that the Chancellor not be present for the discussion that would take place.
Edgar continued on his way to the throne room, setting the multitude of thoughts coursing through his mind to order. He knew what was about to take place and was absolutely certain he would become a part of this quest. He smiled to himself. Finally, some action!
