Color Me Unimpressed
“Ye make sure my friends ‘ere are attended ta, Jak an’ I’ll be back. Oh, an’ make sure whoever found them’re waitin’ fer us when we’re back, yes?”
Juwen kept nodding as he strained to get a better look at Litoc. If he actually understood what Litoc was requesting, it was not clear at that time. For all I know, he could have been having a seizure. To his defense however, he never uttered a word about Litoc’s true identity.
“Ye got ‘im?” Litoc asked the attendants as he slowly released the old man.
When both nodded, Litoc let go and joined Jakeli at the stairs. The soldiers, still confused, didn’t move.
“Well? Ye basterds goin’ ta let us through or not?”
Their gazes turned to Juwen who was still nodding. It only added to their confusion. Jakeli found a compromise.
“The lot of you lead the way.” He said, gesturing to all the soldiers on the stairs. “And be quick about it.”
The squad of soldiers exchanged glances and, having found this proposed arrangement preferrable, turned and started going up the stairs.
The old man looked on until Litoc’s party disappeared as they turned.
“Are you fine Lord Seneschal?” Tukru inquired of the old man.
The old man turned his gaze at Tukru and smiled a toothy smile. He raised his hand to his face and wiped it with his sleeve.
“I am quite alright, quite alright.” Juwen replied accepting the cane from one of the attendants. “I was just… well what a wonderful surprise. You are here. E- what does it matter. You’re both here.”
He turned, attendants keeping a careful eye.
“Come along, come along. I’m sure you are all tired.” He bid us with his throaty voice.
He led us to the room he appeared from. It was about half the size of the archives and filled with musical instruments, most of them stringed. There were bongo-looking things in one corner, and some instruments I could not identify in the other. Large, full-body portraits in brown, carved, wooden frames adorned the walls. Although there were sconces, only lamps lit the place.
At the left side, the wall protruded at an arc and windows, well opening, allowed for a view outside. Though the wooden shutter was raised above it, there was nothing to see, it being night. The placement of two chairs on each side and an arced table that fit neatly into the curve hinted that there was some kind of open grounds where things happened just outside.
The thing that struck me the most, even with the insufficient lighting, were the colors. This room alone had more colors than the entire population of Osea. That lead me to think about how nobles, and royals, were actually identified.
Judging from the paintings on the walls, art was not that advanced yet. All the ones I’ve seen so far had terrible proportions which meant that even if they wanted to advertise a certain noble by posting that person’s face by way of these paintings, the peasant population would really not be able to identify that noble in person.
So, the answer, I realized, was colors. Something I took for granted in the other life was used in this world as a declaration of stature. I’ve seen some merchants roll into Osea with some, albeit slightly faded, colorful garments. The prince wore blue and yellow attires, so did his children. The frail old man leading us wore a robe of green and yellow.
Colors were expensive. Colored fabrics even so. This was the only conclusion I could make. I’ve seen people in Osea wearing clothes that looked bright when they were new. In the end, they all ended gray. If my hunch was correct, colors also signified which family was which. People that own colors.
Now that’s power!
The next section was also filled with colors and paintings featuring the out-of-proportion art-style. I didn’t know what purpose the room served. It had carved long tables and chairs. Some shelves held trinkets and showpieces like carved and stone sculptures. It was obvious people would come to this room to maybe socialize but I had no idea what it was really for. This section was also the first one where I noticed a certain smell.
The next one however was clear as day. It was the grand hall, or whatever passed for grand in this world’s age. The place could easily seat two hundred souls. Immediately to our right was a long table with two highchairs in the center, there were eight chairs in total.
In the hall itself, were four columns of tables spaced evenly, two on each side, with each column having four long tables. The view from where were entered, all the way to the other end where an opening was, was largely interrupted save for two pillars on each side. The middle of the space, about six feet wide, was bare. A throng of workers was sprucing up the place.
They all turned as we entered and gave the steward a slight bow before continuing with their tasks. Juwen took us the nearest long table on the left column and bid us to sit. He whispered to one attendant and as the attendant left, held out a hand towards Tukru.
“Help me sit odoi.” He asked, then added, “I should not be calling you that anymore. You have gotten old yourself.”
“Not as young as you Lord Seneschal.” Tukru politely answered.
“If only that were true.” He laughed a throaty but hearty laugh. Old people kind of laugh. “Tell me Sibald’s son, have you been with – with our friend all these times?”
“I have Lord Seneschal.”
I wondered just how much patience, discipline, cunning, and self-control went into being a lifelong servant in a castle at that point. Here was a geriatric who, just minutes ago, was on the verge of losing his marbles, and now here he was, completely aware of Litoc’s unsaid request, and doing his best not to blurt it out. I’ve no doubt he was already thinking ahead and calculating just how much an uproar it would cause were Litoc’s identity be revealed. Jakeli was right, this man was still sharp indeed.
Mad props, pops!
I sat first, unslinging my bow and backpack and placing it on the table. Jibel sat beside me while Hanni scrutinized the hall.
“You, you have done a great service then, unrewarded it may be.” He settled into the bench and leaned on his cane then turned towards me. “And you people, how well do you know him?”
Jibel scooted closer to my side, peeking at the old man over my arm. Hanni, she could not be bothered with an answer. She was, curiously… curious. She went on to inspect the walls, the columns, the windows along the left wall, and even stared at the high ceiling for a while.
“He trusts as well enough to storm a castle at night.” I answered.
The attendant stiffened at that statement. The soldiers in front of the steward, even more. It wasn’t about the storming a castle part, I was perfectly sure. Juwen, however, was unbothered and was once again nodding and smiling. At me.
“San. San. San. Everybody needs somebody. I am… happy you are with him. Ailian, call me Juwen. Titles are not, are not needed among friends.”
Good. I wasn’t about to start.
I nodded to him as an acknowledgement. He squinted at me, nodded, then turned his attention to Tukru.
“You, you must tell me about him, Tu- Tu-”
“Tukru, Lord.”
“Please, just Juwen, Tukru. You must forgive me. Long, long have I lived, yes. My memory, it does not want to work anymore, sometimes.”
“If you insist, Lo-” Tukru stopped himself and just gave him a nod.
“Now, tell me everything, everything you can. I’m, I’m dying to hear them. Dying!”
Juwen laughed so hard he started coughing. I did not expect him to make a morbid joke about himself. That made me chuckle. I rolled my eyes.
“Glad I still, I still have the ability.” He added, hearing me chuckle.
“Lord, Juwen… I’m not sure it is…” Tukru looked around, “proper to talk about that right now.”
“Oh, worry not, worry not.” He waved the remaining attendant and the soldiers away with an odd gesture. “We can always make it proper.”
When the people on the other side, who were decorating the tables, also moved away, I looked towards the other side of the room to find the soldiers standing with their backs to us and the attendant standing in the middle facing us. Half of the hall was just us.
The clinking of metal and the sound of several boots announced the arrival of servants bearing food and drinks.
“And just, just in time.” Juwen remarked, “You all can eat while I listen.”