Chapter 6

Posted: April 03, 2007 - 08:39:47 pm?

"How much do you know about the political situation here in this land?" Count Treff asked John intensely.

"I have no political knowledge, and I am not looking to get involved in any jockeying for position. I am a newly made baron, and probably the most apolitical person you might ever know," John replied firmly.

Count Treff pursed his lips, and looked thoughtful.

"I had hoped to convince you to join my group, in trying to pressure the king for Lords Rights," the count mused loudly, slipping his view to John anyway.

John sighed. He knew there was a movement afoot take more power from the king, and deliver it into the hands of the lords. To John, it smacked almost like what had happed to King John of England, and the Magna Carta. The lords of England kept the king prisoner, until he signed the document.

John still did not understand how this document was legally enforceable. For almost as soon as it passed, the lords also passed laws preventing anything further in that direction from ever happening again. Even in the United States, contracts made by force did not carry the force of law. It was complicated.

"Again, I am not politically motivated one way or the other, my lord. All I want to do is to live my life as best I can, be fair to those who serve me, and develop and bring about as much improvement for the people as I can," John stated firmly.

Count Treff sighed. Both he and John talked for another twenty minutes or so, with the count trying to convince John, despite John's protests of neutrality. John knew both sides had reason to want power. John was but lately come to nobility, and people were already trying to garner his support.

John knew there were hard feelings already between certain nobles and the king. John did not want to get caught in the middle. With Count Treff already lobbying John for support, John was sure this would somehow get to the kings side's ears, and he would be held responsible somehow.

After Count Treff left, John growled almost silently to himself at what had happened. The count had brought attention to John, just by sitting with him. John wondered how this was going to come back to bite him in the ass.

John paid his reckoning, and left and found his two guards and driver very quickly. He got into the coach, and about an hour later was back at his home of Foxworth. The difference in time was due to the lateness of the day, and climbing a hill. So the trip was a bit slower going back.

When John returned to Foxworth, Cal met him with the news that he had managed to get an appointment with one of his neighbors, the countess Gilbraith. She was more than able to teach John what he needed to know about court protocol. She was expecting him at his leisure, anytime within the next two days.

John was pleased, and thanked Cal for the work in getting him this appointment. Cal bowed and said it had been his pleasure to ensure his lordship was well informed. John retired that evening, after discovering that his cellars did in fact have four kegs of Summer's Gold Ale. That pleased him even more.

The Countess Gilbraith was a stern looking elderly woman, of about sixty-five or so.

"Young man, you are the clumsiest person I have ever seen, when it comes to dancing. Your bow is only marginally acceptable. If I had had you a couple months ago, I could have gotten you up to a more acceptable level of competence. Still, at least you know the steps, now," the countess said sourly.

John was in 'day two' of learning finer court etiquette. There were several musicians present, playing the most popular dance music which the countess was trying to teach John.

"I am sorry. Dancing was not something I did or learned, where I am from," John said by way of explanation.

"It is the duty of all young men to learn as much as they can, and you are woefully lacking. Dancing is an art. It is also an important means of communicating with and to young ladies. Surely you intend to marry, someday?" The countess asked.

"I have not given it much thought as of yet, my lady," John responded nervously.

"Well, start thinking of it. I imagine your own count and duke are already looking for an acceptable companion for you. Why, I would be honored if you were to show interest in my own niece. Let me know if you can't find someone, and I will send for the girl for you," the countess said, with a twinkle in her eye.

John shuddered at the thought. The countess had sharp-faced features, and her husband had died over a decade ago.

'Probably nagged to death', John thought.

John had come to respect the countess, and to fear her. She was a very sharp-tongued elderly lady, who was not hesitant about letting John know of his shortcomings. But she knew court life, inside and out.

"I understand you met our Count Treff," the countess said suddenly, changing the subject.

"I did. How did you know?" John asked stunned that she even knew.

"Humph. Nothing goes on in Carlston that a lot of us don't know. I imagine you will be hearing from the Earl of Carlston fairly soon. Be warned, he is a staunch royal supporter, and will question you closely on your thoughts and views," the countess said while dancing with John, and trying to get him to do the steps correctly.

Two days before his appointed appearance at court, John was informed he had a visitor. Curiously, he made his way to the reception room, and found himself introduced to a middle aged man who was none other than the Earl of Carlston!

"My Lord Earl, it is a pleasure to meet you. Would you care for an ale or wine?" John asked politely.

"An ale would be nice. Or wine. Whichever is easier to get is fine with me," the Earl responded.

Both men studied each other silently as they were waiting for Cal to bring two tankards of Summer's Gold. He really did like that ale. Finally, Cal returned with a large pitcher of Summer's Gold, and two tankards, which already had been filled.

The Earl lifted one, and took a sip. He sighed, and sank further into the over large armchair where he was seated.

"This is probably one of the best ales made. My thanks for the tankard," the Earl said and sipped again.

"It is my pleasure to serve you," John responded politely.

"I will come straight to the point. You were seen to speak with Count Treff a few days ago. Certain of us want to know what you spoke of," the Earl stated baldly.

John sighed.

"The count wanted me to throw my support with him and his group of lords wanting Lords Rights. I informed him I did not wish to get involved in this argument, one way or the other," John responded truthfully.

They talked and drank for about an hour, while the Earl sounded out John on his political beliefs, and what he had been used to in his world. The Earl was amazed at people's rights, and voting. He actually shuddered at the idea of people having a voice in government.

"It has worked in our land quite well, for over two hundred years. Admittedly it is not for everyone. I would not pretend to try to impose my thoughts or what I was used to, onto anyone here," John said carefully.

"Well, his majesty was curious about you, and I think I can set his mind at ease. Still, you should be careful whom you associate with. There are some unsavory lords that are not long for this world if they keep up the way they are going," the Earl said as a parting warning shot.

The day of his time to report to court arrived, and John checked himself out one more time. He was dressed in the clothing and boots he had ordered, and thought he looked pretty good.

He was wearing a cloak, which was a new item of clothing for him. He liked the way it flared as he turned and he practiced that look. He chuckled at himself for getting caught up in something as silly as a flaring cloak. What was he, a child?

John nervously waited with others in a line. They were in descending order of rank. John, as a new baron was towards the end of the line. The Harold already had his name. He was waiting to present himself before the king and the court already within.

The dance was tomorrow night, and today was dedicated to the court. John listened halfheartedly as the line moved and all too soon he was at the front.

"The Baron John Belinty, of Candon Duchy," John heard and he stepped forward. There was a slight increase in the buzz of conversation, as people recognized his name. He was pleased and scared at the same time.

He walked the distance from the door, through ranks of standing nobility towards the throne. He stopped a few steps from the king and the throne, and bowed. He was glad he had practiced.

"Your Majesty, it is an honor to be called to court," John said, just as he had rehearsed.

The King, a man in his fifties, looked John over carefully.

"Welcome to court, Baron. Please feel free to mingle with your peers," the King said in response.

That concluded John's portion of this meeting. John bowed again. He backed away three steps, and turned. He walked to the side, and disappeared into the crowd.

Since he had been the last person in line, he headed for the table laden with refreshments, and looked over his choices. Several people had beaten him to it, and were grabbing goblets of wine or ale from serving stewards.

"Summer's Gold, please," John said, addressing a serving steward.

Shortly, John found himself with an overly large goblet in his hands of said beverage. He was also the center of attention of four men and two women, who surrounded him. Names were quickly exchanged, which he forgot almost at once.

Some of them welcomed him to the ranks of nobility, while others wanted to know of his life in that other land they had heard of in rumors. Still others wanted to know about his strange 'rolling home'. All in all, John was busy answering lots of questions.

About thirty minutes into being grilled by his peers, a chamberlain approached and asked John to follow him. The crowd separated respectfully, and John followed the man.

"Thanks for rescuing me back there. Uh, where are we going anyway?" John asked.

"His majesty desires speech with you, and we are going to the library," the chamberlain answered.

'Oh boy, ' John thought to himself. 'This might not be so good.'

They left the throne room, went down a number of corridors and finally stood before an ornate door. The chamberlain knocked twice then opened the door.

"The Baron John Belinty, Your Majesty," the chamberlain announced, and stepped aside.