Chapter 5: Endings and Beginnings

Ill weather heralded our arrival and so it was with a scowl on my face from under the hood of a soaked cloak that I made my first entrance into Suzail, my nation's capital. I had heard tell of the draconian security in this city, and that travellers had to tolerate constant badgering by the city guard, but we were interfered with not one bit.

Anarion had brief words with the gate wardens and that was all. I did not catch what he said to them, but they treated him with great respect and even called for an escort for us to the royal palace.

I had been little impressed with what I had seen of the city thus far, but my first sight of the royal palace, even shrouded as it was in rain and gloom, was most impressive. It dwarfed anything within Arabel and for grandeur and beauty of architecture it surpassed even the Tower of Ashaba, which I had thought to be the penultimate holder of those attributes.

The gates were open for us and two lines of guards, resplendent in mail and purple tabards, stood along the walls near the door we stopped. The king himself was there! And his wife and a pretty woman I later learned was Tanalasta, his eldest daughter.

He spoke briefly with Anarion and Elminster, and demanded to see Quinlan's body where it lay in the cart. I was invisible, which considering the present company was just as well. I would be ashamed even to open my mouth to a king.

A footman came up to me and gave me brusque instructions on where to take Anarion's bags. I will admit it rankled. I had spent the last three weeks treated with kindness, respect, and equality by the greatest wizard in all the realms, and now was less than a footman. I wished to tell him in graphic detail what he could do with them but was unwilling to embarrass myself before the royal family and so held myself back. I was in fact Anarion's servant, and the previous days of freedom had been an exception, not the rule. Tyr's judgement still had its hold on my being and for twelve more months, I was still bound.

With a scowl and a curt nod, I delivered my master's belongings to the room as instructed and myself to the servant's section. Anarion, along with Elminster, many guards and the royal family had all departed to bear Quinlan to the cathedral where he would lay in state until the funeral, which was to be in three days time.

Word of Quinlan's demise had preceded us out of Shadowdale via carrier pigeon, and further messages had been sent from there. The coming service was going to be an event larger than I could truly comprehend. Notables from as far off as Sembia, the Dragon Coast and the Western Heartlands were going to attend, all for the man who had punished me for stealing a sword.

I felt every inch of my low station within the royal palace and received many, many instructions on how I was to conduct myself within. Unless I was attending my master I was to remain in the servant's section, below ground, or within his quarters (the man's insinuation by that was obvious). I was not to enter the gardens, any of the public areas on the first or second floors, or use the front entrance to the palace. I was to curtsy and not meet the eyes of any noble who passed and follow any instructions given me by any noble or palace servant that did not contradict my duties to Anarion.

I hated it. The food was passable, but that was the only part of the experience even remotely worthwhile. They were so arrogant! All of them! And the palace servants were the absolute worst. To the nobles and royals, I was no more or less than a common servant and thus invisible unless I erred somehow, but the palace staff could see my humble roots, and treated me like the lowest of the low.

During this time, Anarion spent much of his time either in the church or brooding in his appointed room. His status, I think, was uncertain. He had been the only apprentice to a known legend, and knew the royal family personally, but was ultimately not a knight and held no land or title. He endured many probing conversations and people ingratiating themselves to him in case he proved to be influential in court. He smiled and spoke politely them, but I could see his frustration and impatience mounting.

Perhaps I could have at this time been a better friend to him, but I was filled with my own impatience and impotent rage and while I was perhaps unjustified in doing so, I placed the blame for that on him. Our conversations were distant, polite and limited to what was strictly necessary.

In that way did the days until the funeral service pass. As a servant, I should not have been allowed to attend the service. Such was Quinlan's status that the guests to his funeral were all of noble birth, and even some lesser ones were reduced to standing outside the cathedral doors. However, using what influence he had as Quinlan's apprentice, he ensured that I could attend.

It was my first time in a cathedral and I suppose it was grand, impressive and inspiring but that is not what I recall about that day. Even wearing the dress Storm gave me, I felt distinctively out of place. Anarion, I am sure felt the same, for while the both of us wore clothing of noble cut and make, but we did not have the ornamentation possessed by seemingly everyone else. Badges of office, silk stoles, heraldic colours, gold and jewels, crowns and tiaras all abounded.