Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

about him, keeping his face carefully calm and neutral. This wasn't the first Court he'd ever visited, but it*was the largest Hall he'd ever seen. It had to be easily two hundred feet long, and half again as wide, and was packed from wall to wall with brightly costumed courtiers. With their vivid colours and never-ending gossiping, they reminded Jordan of so many chattering parrots.
    At the far end of the Hall stood a roughly carved marble throne, set atop a raised marble dais. Beneath the throne, clearly visible between the squat legs, was a roughly hewn block of weatherbeaten stone.
    Jordan studied it thoughtfully. Presumably this was the Stone to which the crown and the seal had to be presented, the Stone that was the heart and focus of Castle Midnight's magic. It didn't look like much, but then neither did the throne. Its surface was cracked and pitted, and the bas-relief carvings were crude and functional. Even with the thick cushion on the seat, the throne looked very uncomfortable to sit on. It looked strangely out of place in the ostentatious elegance of the Great Hall. Jordan let his gaze drift casually over the wood-panelled walls. It wouldn't do for him to be caught gawking like a tourist. But there was no denying that the woodwork was impressive. Each panel of lightly stained beechwood held fantastic and intricate carvings of the people and animals of Redhart, at work and at play. The detail was incredible. Jordan wished he had a sketchpad with him. He studied the richly wax-polished floor and the wonderfully carved and painted domed ceiling, and felt a sudden desire to turn and run from the Hall.
    How could he ever hope to fool people who spent their days in glorious surroundings like this, taking its beauty for granted? Surely they must have recognised him immediately for the crude common imposter he was, and were only waiting for the right moment to cry out on him?
    Something of this must have shown in his face, for Sir Gawaine was suddenly at his elbow, leaning forward solicitously. 'Are you all right, Sire? You look a trifle pale.' 'I'm fine,' said Jordan quickly. 'Fine. I could use a drink though.'
    The knight bowed. 'I will fetch you one immediately, Sire.' He moved off towards a buffet table set to one side. Jordan felt a sudden urge to call Gawaine back, rather than be left on his own in the midst of strangers, but his pride wouldn't let him. He was the Great Jordan, dammit. He was the actor and they were the audience. He was in control. They only saw what he wanted them to see. The Hall was certainly impressive, but he'd seen better. At the peak of his career he'd performed at Forest Castle, and Duke Alric's Palace in Hillsdown. Three nights at each, and not once had he failed to get a standing ovation. He could handle these people. What had Roderik said? - speak to no one and scowl at everyone. Easy. He caught the eye of the nearest courtier, and let his features fall into his most intimidating glare. He used it mostly when walking through strange market'towns and bazaars, when he wasn't too sure of the local mood. It was his I am poor but incredibly violent so there is absolutely no point in trying to rob me look.
    Jordan had put a lot of work into that glare, and was quietly proud of it. It never failed to have an effect.
    On a good day he could get people parting to either side of him like waves. The glare seemed to be going down well at Court too. The courtiers around him apparently felt a sudden need to be somewhere else, and the man Jordan had chosen as the direct target for his glare had gone distinctly pale. Gawaine returned with a glass of wine, and Jordan gulped at it thirstily.
    'Ease up on the glare a little,' murmured Gawaine. 'We don't want to scare them too much, we still want some of them as our
    allies. And remember, you're supposed to be recovering from a chill. You're looking a bit too strong at the moment.'
    'Understood,' said Jordan quietly. 'Just as a matter of interest, why am I getting such strong reactions?
    That guy there looks scared to death. All right, it's a good glare, but not that good.'
    'On a previous occasion, shortly before you went into exile, one of the courtiers was foolish enough to ridicule your choice of clothing. You gave him a chance to apologise, and when he refused you called up your fire magic and fried the man where he stood.'
    Jordan looked at Gawaine, but there was nothing in the knight's face to suggest that he was exaggerating.
    'What