The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [11]
Their cheers erupted spontaneously and continued for many minutes, long after the queen had disappeared into the humble castle that had been her home for the first eighteen years of her life.
The grand court would not open until the morrow. On this, the day preceding the formal council, the heralds announced that the queen would host a feast for all of her subjects, to be served on the great commons below the castle.
Word of the impending celebration spread rapidly, and when the queen and her elder daughter emerged from the castle in late afternoon, a cheering crowd shouted their devotion along the raised roadway that led down to the field.
"It is like coming home again," Robyn said to Alicia wistfully. "But then, at the same time, it isn't."
"There are memories of Father everywhere around here," Alicia agreed. "It always seemed that, when the family stayed at Corwell, he had more time for us-he took the time for us."
Robyn smiled, though the tears began to veil her eyes. "He must have remembered his own father when we were here. He always vowed that he would show his children more affection than King Bryan showed to him."
Alicia looked at the sea of faces spread across the fields below them. She had always enjoyed the attention awarded her rank, and never before had she beheld such a throng. Yet today the sensation was pale, even insignificant. "How can we feel lonely when so many shout their affection for us?"
"Because we've lost the one we really desire to hear it from," Robyn replied. Alicia saw, with surprise, that her mother's face had hardened. The queen smiled at her subjects, a frozen, formal expression, and the crowd fell in behind them as they approached the commons, already covered with cloths, tables, and benches for the feast.
"The Earl of Corwell has done a commendable job," observed the princess, beholding an array of canopied tables and great firepits where several massive oxen rotated on huge spits.
"Lord Randolph has ever been an able administrator," Robyn replied, fondly remembering the young captain to whom Tristan had entrusted his home realm when the High King and Queen first embarked for Callidyrr.
Now all the young Ffolk of the town, it seemed, had turned out to serve the meal, and swiftly the nobles and esteemed citizens were seated. The rest of the Ffolk would eat where they could. Keane, Tavish, Prince Brandon, Pawldo of Lowhill, and the Earl of Fairheight all joined Lord Randolph and the two noblewomen at the head table.
Crusty loaves of bread, hot from the oven, appeared on the tables before them. Wheels of cheese, mild and sharp and all ranges between, complemented the bread, and pitchers of wine and ale overflowed onto the tables. Cooks bustled about, trimming and slicing from the steers and pigs that now entered the final stage of the daylong cooking process.
"Does the lady bard have a song for the occasion?" inquired Robyn, smiling at Tavish.
"There's a tune I've been trying out," the harpist allowed, her eyes twinkling with pleasure. She slung her lute from her shoulder with a casual flip. "It's in the early stages, mind you. I've been planning to put some work into it when I can find the time."
The others watched as she tuned a few recalcitrant strings and then strummed a bright chord. "This is a song about Corwell-in the distant past," Tavish explained as her fingers deftly walked across the strings. "A time when there were as many elves as humans in the isles-more, perhaps. The first verses tell of the birth of the kingdom of Corwell.
"This part of Gwynneth was ruled by King Deric, a good man, brave and heroic. His people lived in peace with the Llewyrr, the elves of Moonshae.