Chapter 19 -Manners

Gregor closed the book and watched as the golden rays of the sun dimmed. Fencing? What was fencing compared to that? The rawness had Gregor squeezing the pages as he flipped through them. He needed to ask Jerand to fight with him like that one day. No holds barred, only survival. Of course, with practice weapons, not real swords. After all, he was the son of an emperor.

He got up, stretched his legs and in the last light of the setting sun, opened the door to shout, “Light!” Moments later Thery strode down the hall with a servant carrying a candle close at his heels. Hm, they must have been waiting just around the corner, Gregor stroked his chin. They stepped into the room and with a glance Thery took in the messed up sheets, untouched refreshments and Gregor’s ruffled appearance.

The emperor’s son caught Thery as he studied the surrounding. He noticed the pursed lips and looked down at himself. His shirt was wrinkled and creased. Subtly he tried smoothing it with his hand as the servant lit the lanterns in the room.

“Your highness, were the refreshments not to your liking, should I take them away?”

“No, keep them, I was just… otherwise occupied.”

Wait.

Gregor turned to his bed and saw the journal.

“More books your grace?”

“Yeah, independent studies as it goes.” Gregor replied, smoothing his shirt again. “This one is quite interesting though, it discusses the art of fighting in war, gladiatorial arenas, and fencing. It goes into an appreciable amount of detail on the differences between the three, even taking the time to elaborate on the role that different weapons play and how an individuals body type might affect the outcome. However, I find it lacking in discussing strategy in warfare, instead the author talks about the inevitability of fighting many opponents at once, which while interesting in its own right, lacks the sort of macro of battle view that one of my status would need to be able to see. Not only that but he also writes about varying armors and weapon arts, much of which has been lost to history.”

As he rambled, he grabbed the book and squeezed it in his shelf between several other books.

“It’s quite disappointing to imagine the sheer quantity of culture, fighting styles, and artifacts that have been lost to the ticking of time, and it really gets a person to wonder how much of their own culture, fighting styles, and artifacts will still be around in thirty, forty, one hundred, or one thousand years. Will people still be fencing like Jerand and I do? Or will there perhaps be a new art form? Will weapons and armor look the same? I would wager not. Already developments in crossbows have changed the requirement of specialized archer training, and on a broader -or perhaps more specific application- trebuchets have revolutionized siege warfare. Unbelievably fascinating stuff, wouldn’t you say Thery?”

“Yes your majesty, unbelievably fascinating.” He replied, keeping a straight face. “On a less… conflict related note. Your father had asked if you will join them for dinner. And in the case that you do not, in his exact words; ‘in light of tomorrows conversation, where would you like to have lunch, or would you prefer to talk elsewhere?’”

“I don’t think I will be joining them for dinner today.” Gregor paused for a moment to think. “As for lunch… I would say… it is up to him. I can’t say I have a preference either way and it depends on the nature of the conversation to begin with.”

“In that case I shall pass on the message, and in the meantime I can have dinner brought up to your quarters -if your majesty wishes.”

“Yes, and bring some tea as well.”

“Shall I take these refreshments back down?” Thery asked again, just to be sure.

“No, I’ll have them with my dinner, or perhaps after.”

Thery nodded and excused himself. Exiting the room, he rushed back to Garshik to deliver the prince’s response. Gregor turned around with a sigh and did double take. The young servant with the candle was still standing there. His candle was no more than a stub now, and the flame fizzled weakly. Head bowed, he peeked at Gregor from under his fringe of hair and stammered, “Your highn-majesty, may I be excused?”

“Yes of course.”

Shaking his head, the young man closed the door to his room behind the servant.

Outside the emperor’s personal study. Three guards and the Royal Steward stood guard. His father, Ostati acknowledged him with a small nod, and Thery stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Three long inhales and exhales, check. Straightening shoulders, check. Standing tall with head bowed in deference, check. Thery swallowed and announced to his father, “Here to see the Emperor with word from his son.” Ostati knocked on the door with two sharp raps, and a commanding voice ordered, “Come in.”

Ostati opened the door for his son, and one of the guards accompanied Thery into the study. Gregor’s steward bowed low, “Your majesty.”

“Yes Thery, what did my son have to say?”

“He regrets to inform you that he will not be able to join the family for dinner.”

Garshik raised his eyebrows, and Thery continued.

“With regards to tomorrows conversation he expressed his flexibility and stated that you know the nature of the conversation the best.”

The emperor scratched his chin and jaw. Well, the boy was right on that matter.

“Did he say why he was not able to join us for dinner?”

“He did not, your highness. But I believe it has to do with a book that he has been reading… If I may, your majesty, this might not be my place to say however…”

“Go on.” Garshik said with a wave of his hand.

“I believe the young prince spends too much time alone and in his quarters. Today he has not left his room once, and I think it might have to do with lack of company.”

“Lack of company?”

“I cannot help but think that the excessive time he spends indoors between the pages of books detailing ‘the art of fighting in war, gladiatorial arenas, and fencing’ influences his mental condition and may in turn cause melancholia. Perhaps having other young lords around his age, can be a form of healthy competition that he can engage with. Or ladies, but the end goal is simply to have people that he can interact with.”

He bit off the end of his sentence and chewed his cheek when he realized he was rambling. Thankfully, the emperor did not seem to notice, or to mind -he only stared into the distance.

Truly there were so many books being written these days, perhaps he should write his own. If a fully book was scribed on the topic of various styles of fighting, and then found its way into the hands of royalty, then without a doubt he could write his own. The life and times of Garshik the savior. No that sounded too pretentious. The art of ruling the largest empire in Belnara’s history. Too wordy. The art of ruling the largest empire. No, it was that phrase “the art of” that made it sound bad. Besides, that would hardly be worth writing about, so many of his predecessors had their ‘tips’ and ‘best practices’ of ruling but it all boiled down to the same wish-washy garbage. If he were to write something, it would have to be something that he knew well. Something real and catchy. Something true and worthwhile. Something novel. Perhaps… How to Kill Friends and Influence Enemies. His eyes shone for a moment, then he brushed away the fanciful daydream. It would have been too painful to write anyway. He looked up and saw Thery was still standing there, waiting.

The steward’s suggestion had not been a bad one, and had Garshik not spent time with Gregor, he might have followed through immediately. But he knew there was more to his son than reading only out of loneliness. Thery’s initiative was commendable thought, and Garshik would keep his words in mind. A form of reward would likely be in order. Privately though. Too public and everyone would be kissing feet for the next year. The emperor shuddered. That was one mistake he would not be repeating.

“Thank you, I shall take your words into consideration. As for our meeting, we can have it in the Garden of Kingdoms. Tell him to meet me by the eastern gate two hours prior to midday. From there we will have our lunch whenever I finish answering his questions.” He nodded to his son’s steward and dismissed him. Thery bowed and left the room. He paused before his father, who took a moment to straighten his son’s shirt near the shoulder. Thery let his father eye him up and down while he did the same. But there was nothing else to fix. Both were impeccable in their attire, not so much as a thread out of place.

“Dinner tonight?” Thery asked.

Ostati responded, face impassive as ever, “Yes, but late again.”

Thery replied with a nod and began to hurry back to Gregor’s quarters. At least it was easier to walk down the stairs rather than up them. By the time anyone reaches the emperor they are always out of breath. Probably a tactical decision on the emperor’s part. Thery shook his head to himself. How could one man possess more excellent qualities than everyone else combined?

The Emperor would take Thery’s words into consideration! And he said thank you. Would it kill Gregor to be the same? Thery could hardly remember the last time he received a single word of gratitude for the boy. This was why Garshik was the greatest emperor his family had served. Respectful to everyone, including those below him, listened to others, not to mention the presence of the man. Even when sitting at a table surrounded by books and paper it could feel suffocating. There was something about him, regardless of whether or not a crown was situated on his head, Garshik towered above everyone else. Thery had no doubt Garshik was the chosen of Berlas. The emperor was born ready for this responsibility. If only he had passed more of it on to his son.

When he reached the room he knew all too well, he saw three servants milling about the door. Two red-faced young women and another man standing there with wide eyes. What was their deal? They shuffled aside as Thery walked in and came face to face with a nightmare.

Gregor stood before the mirror, topless, as another man stood next to him, also topless. To his increasing horror, the other man was just a servant. That was enough.

“Your majesty, I do not believe this is appropriate.”

“Ah, Thery, just who I was waiting for. Perhaps I should call a draftsman or a painter to document this.”

Gregor was staring at the mirror intently while the poor servant next to him looked mortified. Both had one arm raised, and the other clenched into a fist. The prince moved his arm, rotating it, pointing it downwards, then up, then side to side. Each movement was slow, controlled, and the emperor’s son gave pointers to the servant next to him trying to mimic his movements.

“No, go slower. There, now tense this muscle. Correct, now raise your arm, stretch it out. Fascinating. You there, take the lantern and move it up then down. Yes, exactly like that.”

“Your highness, may I ask…”

“Yes, I’m glad you did! Come, take a look. Here we can see the differences between the two bodies, but fundamental similarity in male anatomy. For the sake of propriety I have limited the nakedness to the upper body. Observe how the muscles in the arm move in the same ways for both of us. Also take note of the difference in size of the musculature, as well as definition of the muscles. By moving we can deduce how each of them aid in the movement. For example, when I curl my arm, we see this muscle peak, and when I extend it… There! At the back. Have you ever thought about the role our shoulder plays in these different motions?”

“No, I have not, but I wanted to ask about this… situation.”

“Oh, they just brought dinner.” Gregor said, pointing at the table.

Thery glanced behind him, “so they have.”

“And this was an impromptu study spurred on by the effect light had on shadows, which emphasized muscular anatomy depending on the angle of the light. I wonder if there have been more incursions into this method of discovery. Perhaps I can perform a detailed analysis and compare genders for a more thorough study.”

Thery silently grit his teeth, thinking to himself, does this boy have any interests outside of acquiring more knowledge? But out loud he said, “Your majesty, in that case may I suggest sponsoring the study. That way you can have more time for other things, and you would be assisting other scholars in their livelihood.”

Gregor rubbed his chin, and saw the servant hesitantly raise his arm to rub his own chin. A grin split the prince’s face and he turned to the man, “Good work, take tomorrow off or something.”

The servant bowed and hastily gathered his shirt before leaving the room. Thery watched him go and saw the rest of the servants blatantly eyeing prince. “You’re all dismissed.” He shooed them away and turned back to Gregor who took a moment to answer Thery’s previous question.

“I understand the points you put forth, but where would the fun in that be? I suppose… Well, a middle ground can be found. I can still work with a group I sponsor afterall. Now, what was my father’s reply?”

“He said to meet him at the eastern gate the Garden of Kingdoms two hours before midday, and that from there you will have lunch once your discussion ends.”

“Very well. Did he specify where we would have lunch?”

“He did not.”

“I suppose it does not really matter where. Well, I am looking forward to it.”

The prince clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

“Now, where was I. Dinner!”

He spared a moment to nod to Thery, who gave a short bow and edged out of the room, gritting his teeth.