**Note: As my story is still in the making, all names, places, and events may be subject to change.**

 Chapter 1 - Part 3

          The door at the end of the hall slammed once again, and in strode the doorkeeper followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man in a long dirty cloak and heavy boots.  His hair was short, unusual in Orotaek, and from where Faeryn stood she couldn’t make out the color of the man’s hair.  He walked calmly but determinedly across the great expanse of the hall in huge, heavy strides that echoed off the walls.  When he came near to where Faeryn was standing and she could make out his face, she couldn’t help but notice his large, wildly blue eyes, which radiated a power and a passion that Faeryn had never seen before.  “Byerron,” she whispered to herself, trying it out and deciding that it fit the man splendidly.  Here, she thought, is a man to rival my father.  I wonder what he has to say.

            Byerron stopped at a respectful distance from the throne and waited for the doorkeeper to announce him.  The king, however, did not wait, but commented immediately;

            “I see that you didn’t bother to bathe before you came here.  Most people do, you know.”

            Faeryn felt sorry for the man, wishing he hadn’t been criticized by the king right from the start, but Byerron didn’t seem at all bothered by it.  (She decided later that he had probably received similar comments the other times he had visited.)  He opened his mouth to say whatever it was he had to say, but the king cut him off.

            “No,” he said.  “This really won’t do, Byerron.  Doorkeeper, take him and have him cleaned off and give him some clean clothes, and then I will listen to what he has to say.”

            Byerron shut his mouth and reluctantly followed the doorkeeper back across the hall, making just as much – if not more – noise with his great black boots.

            Faeryn felt rather impatient.  How could her father put off the encounter any longer?  She wanted to know more about this odd stranger, and she wondered how long it would take him to clean himself and get dressed.  Anyhow, now that he was gone she would have to try to refocus on her lesson, and she was sure that she didn’t really want to.

            She must have sighed a little, because Rendreik looked up at her and decided that he would get no more real concentration from Faeryn and that their lessons were over for the day.  As he closed the books he said, “you are released.  We will have no more study for the day.”

            Faeryn was glad for the break, but she realized that her lessons were her only free pass into the great hall.  Unless she was with Rendreik, she would not be able to see what happened when Byerron came back to speak to the king.  She opened her mouth, torn between voicing a thank-you or a complaint, but Rendreik whispered;

            “I will find a way to get you back in here when Byerron comes back.  He’s quite a man, and I would hate for you to miss this chance to see him.” 

            Faeryn could have hugged the old man, but, as that gesture went against the rules of court formality, she merely smiled and nodded her thanks as she turned to leave.

Copyright 2008 Cherise A. Do not reproduce at all without my express permission. If you like what I do, you can link to me instead.