The Mage in the Iron Mask - Brian Thomsen [57]
"Quickly!" he ordered. "Give me your blanket!"
"Okay," the thespian complied, a look of confusion on his face, "But I am sure that it will be warmer inside."
Rassendyll began to wrap the blanket around his head as if it was a combination turban, kerchief, and veil. He continued to wrap until only two slits for the eye holes of the mask, and one for the mouth managed to poke through. As he finished his wrapping he noticed the look of confusion on his companion's face.
"It's an old custom," he explained, making it up as he went along.
"From Zenda?" Passepout asked.
"I guess so," Rassendyll replied, frantically tucking the edges of the cloth into his shirt, around his neck, and down his back. "Uh, where I come from it is considered impolite to enter a stranger's house unless one has one's head covered with a veil."
"Oh, sure," Passepout said unsurely. "I've heard of that. By the way, where is Zenda?"
"Hush!" Rassendyll urged. "Someone is opening the door."
* * * * *
Honor's dinner guests could hear the voice of one of the new arrivals the minute the door was opened. The echoes of the halls and the noise of the storm outside, however, muffled and distorted the sounds before they reached the main hall.
As the new arrivals approached, the sounds of their steps became clearer and the voice of one became more recognizable. When the two drenched traveling companions entered the dining hall, Volo immediately recognized his old friend Passepout who he thought he had left back at the Traveler's Cloak Inn under the watchful eyes of Dela in Mulmaster. A flash of recognition was likewise immediately noticeable on the thespian's face.
A panicked revelation crossed the master traveler's mind. What if my simple friend announces my presence in the company of McKern? Will this reveal more than Chesslyn desires and increase the risk of her exposure by the Cloaks?
His fear turned out to be unwarranted.
Volo tried a preemptive strike.
"Passepout!" he hailed. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Vo-" the thespian began to answer, but quickly changed his priorities. "Food! And I am so hungry!"
Honor immediately interceded.
"You are both obviously hungry from your travels. We are eating, and meals are not meant to be interrupted, no matter what some of my house guests seem to think. Sit down and dig in. Poins and Hal will fetch you plates. I am sure Hotspur has prepared enough for all. Eat. We can get to know each other later."
Passepout and his facially turbaned companion dug into the meal.
Volo was relieved, having survived yet another hurdle in the challenge of maintaining his inconspicuousness. He marveled at Honor's immediate offer of hospitality to anyone who happened to drop by. Seeing that his old friend was enjoying the meal, he allowed himself another look at the old swordmaster, and noticed something.
While Poins and Hal had attended to the new arrivals, Hotspur had inconspicuously placed a sword and dagger well within the reach of their host. Even the gracious Blind Honor obviously didn't believe in taking too many chances.
Before returning to the gastronomical matters at hand, the master traveler also took a moment to visually examine Passepout's newly acquired traveling companion. The blanket veil gave the fellow-at least he appeared to be a fellow-a rather curious appearance.
I wonder who he is? the master traveler thought, and then resumed eating.
Honor ruled the dinner table like the family of Azoun ruled Cormyr: with great vigor, long reigns, and acquisitive tendencies. When his own plate was clean, and Hotspur's bottomless serving dishes empty, the otherwise gracious yet dictatorial host felt free to sample off the leavings of his guests' plates, much to the great relief of Chesslyn and Volo who found themselves full before the midpoint of the meal, and Rassendyll, whose progress was greatly inhibited by his turban-bound visage and the size of the mouth hole in the mask. Passepout and the mage Mason McKern gave the host a run for his money however, cleaning their plates with a gusto almost