This was not the first time he had found himself in that position. At least, in this case, the discussion concerned his life and prosperity, not his imminent and painful death.
And at least this time he was seated, and on a relatively appropriate stool_in deference to his wings and tail_rather than standing in an iron cage, fettered at every limb.
Harperus was not part of this discussion, this Council session; the Deliambren had not been invited. This was probably more of an oversight than a deliberate insult, since the subject of this meeting was T'fyrr and not Harperus. T'fyrr wished profoundly for his company, though; as the only nonhuman, as well as the object of discussion, he was alternately being ignored and glared at. It would have been less uncomfortable if Harperus had been there to share the "experience."
By the standards of the Palace so far, this was a modest room, paneled in carved wood, with wooden floors and boasting Deliambren lighting. The Council members, all of the King's Advisors, sat at a rectangular marble-topped table with the King at the head and T'fyrr at the foot. They had carved wooden chairs that could have doubled as thrones in many kingdoms; the King had a simpler wooden replica of the monstrosity in the room in which he held Court, gilded as well as carved. Behind the King stood a circle of four silent bodyguards in scarlet and black livery, armed to the teeth, in enameled helms and breastplates, as blank-faced as any Elf.
If they projected the fact that they are dangerous any harder, there would be little puddles of "danger" on the floor around them. Look, it's "danger," don't step in it!
"I want him as my personal Court Musician," King Theovere said, with a glare across the table at his Seneschal. The King had convened this Council meeting as soon as Court was over_and he had cut Court embarrassingly short in order to arrange the time for the meeting. Evidently nothing could be done, not even the appointment of a single musician to the royal household, without at least one Council meeting. But it was obvious to T'fyrr that no matter what his Advisors thought, this meeting was going to go the King's way. He wondered if they realized that yet....
Lord Marshal Lupene shrugged his massive shoulders. The Marshal was an old warrior, now gone to fat to an embarrassing extent, though from the way he carried himself it was likely he didn't realize it_or didn't want to. "Your Majesty might consider what the envoys both have to say about it. They might have other plans."
Theovere did not quite glower, but T'fyrr was as aware as Theovere that the the Lord Marshal's implying that the King had not already consulted with T'fyrr and Harperus was cutting dangerously close to insubordination. This Lord Marshal must have been very sure of himself to chance such insolence.
"He is willing_even eager!" Theovere said angrily as T'fyrr nodded slightly, though no one paid any attention to him. "The Deliambren Ambassador says that he can manage without T'fyrr along, that he and T'fyrr were really no more than convenient traveling companions. I tell you, I want him in my employ starting from this moment_"
Lord Chamberlain Vidor, who had charge of the King's Court Musicians, pursed his thin lips. The Lord Chamberlain was as cadaverous and lean as the Lord Marshal was massive. "Your Majesty cannot have considered the impact this will have on his other musicians," Vidor intoned, keeping his disapproval thinly veiled. "Musicians are delicate creatures with regards to their sensibilities and morale_appointing this Haspur could wreak great damage among them. After all_he isn't even human, much less a Guild Bard!"
Theovere turned towards his Chamberlain and raised one bushy eyebrow. "The second follows upon the first, doesn't it?" he asked testily. "The Guild won't accept nonhumans, which makes it altogether impossible for T'fyrr to be one. I have, in fact, considered the impact of this appointment, and I think it will serve as an excellent example to my other musicians. Having T'fyrr in their midst will keep them on their mettle. They have been getting lazy; too much repetition and too little original work. They could use the competition." His tone grew silken as he glanced aside at Lord Guildmaster Koraen. "Perhaps it might give the Bardic Guild cause to reconsider their ban on nonhuman members, with so excellent a musician being barred from their ranks."
And from lending the Guild my prestige, my notoriety, T'fyrr added silently, seeing some of the same thoughts occurring to the Guildmaster. Koraen was good at hiding his feelings, but T'fyrr detected the sound of the bulky, balding man grinding his teeth in frustration. The Guild has just lost a fair amount of prestige thanks to my performance, and might lose some royal preference if I continue to succeed here. This man is going to be my enemy. He mentally shook his head. What am I thinking? They are all going to be my enemies! The only question is how dangerous they consider me!
"The Bardic Guild_" the Guildmaster began.
Theovere slammed his open palm down on the table. "The Bardic Guild had better learn some flexibility!" he all but shouted. "The Bardic Guild had better learn how to move with the times! The Bardic Guild had better come up with something better than elaborations on the same tired themes if they want to continue to enjoy my patronage!"
"But this sets a very bad precedent, Your Majesty," interjected another Council member, a thin and reedy little man who had not been introduced to T'fyrr. He wore a sour expression that seemed to be perpetually fixed on his face.
"My Lord Treasurer is correct," agreed the Lord Judiciar smoothly, an oily fellow of nondescript looks who had been among the first to congratulate the King every time he dismissed a petition. "It sets a very bad precedent indeed. You are the High King of the Twenty Human Kingdoms; what need have you to bring in outsiders to fill your household?"
Now, for the first time, T'fyrr saw signs of petulance on the King's face, a childish expression that looked, frankly, quite ridiculous on a man with grey hair. And the royal temper, held barely in check, now broke_but not into shouting.
"I want him in my household, and by God, I will have him in my household!" the King grated dangerously, glaring at them all. "In fact_" His expression suddenly grew sly. "I'll appoint him my Chief Court Musician! Yes, why not? I have a vacant place for a Chief Musician in my personal household; let T'fyrr fill it! That is a position solely under my control, subject to my discretion, and the Council can only advise me on it, as you know."
As the expressions of the Council members around the table changed from annoyed to alarmed, he chuckled, like a nasty little boy who has been picking the wings off flies.
"But_but Your Majesty_" the Lord Chamberlain spluttered, obviously blurting the first thing that came into his head. "That is impossible! The_the_Chief Court Musician must be a Knight! All of Your Majesty's household must be of the rank of Sire or better!"
"Oh, well, if that is all there is to it_" Before anyone could stop him, the King rose from his seat and walked to T'fyrr's, pulling out his ornamental short sword as he came. "I can certainly remedy that. I am a Knight as well as a King, and according to the rules of chivalry, I can make other Knights in either capacity as I choose. They need only be worthy, and T'fyrr is certainly far more worthy of this post than any Bardic Guild popinjay you've presented me with thus far!"
Oh, good heavens. He's lost his mind.
T'fyrr was not certain what he should do, so he did nothing, except to rise, turn to face the King, and bow. This did not seem to bother Theovere at all. The King tapped him on each shoulder in a perfunctory manner, then resheathed the sword. The Council members sat numbly in their places, struck dumb by the sudden and abrupt turn of events. Clearly the King was not supposed to take so much initiative.
Obviously they have never tried to balk him before. They have just learned a lesson. I believe they thought the King too much in their control to slip his leash like this.