Chapter 2

Well the agents hadn't kept him too long, once they had had his story and were sure that he was completely clueless about what had happened, they were happy to allow him to leave, though he had been asked to check with them before he left the city. He had pointed out that he had planned to start wandering up the country towards New York, from whence he would be flying home next Saturday week and that all being equal he was intending to travel to Las Vegas on Monday. This gave the agents pause for thought, but finally they said that they thought that would be okay and that, unless he heard from them otherwise, he could proceed as planned. They did, however, ask that he check in with the local police when he got to Las Vegas and that way they would be able to contact him if they needed. Rory happily agreed to this, and left fairly confident that he was a free man.

As he walked out of the cordoned area a heavily made-up blonde woman seemed to pounce on him.

"High my name is Tonia Wilkins and I'm with 'Cable-TV Local News', Would you mind talking to us for a few moments sir?"

"Er, um, what!" Rory looked around, somewhat bemused and caught sight of a guy with a camera and other equipment. "Okay, I suppose," He finished tentatively.

"Say your English aren't you?"

"Yes Madam."

"You can call me Tonia. What our viewers want to know, is what you saw."

"I wouldn't mind knowing that myself, but things happened so quickly and I was always facing the wrong way at the start of every key event, that, you know what? I haven't the foggiest idea what occurred here. So unless you have any specific questions, I'm not sure I can help you Madam." Rory was determined that he wasn't going to call this professional busybody 'Tonia', he didn't want to be friends — he'd had enough and she was just being a nuisance.

"Cut!" She shouted. "Look kid are you looking for an exclusive or something, because if so, maybe we can talk later, but you've got to throw me a bone now; I need something to go back with."

"Madam, we seem to be using the same words, but what you understand by them and what I believe them to mean, seem to bear no correlation. Forgive me for being blunt, but I have just spent the best part of an hour waiting around to say effectively nothing and I'm pissed off. You then ask me some questions and because the truth doesn't agree with your needs you assume I am as venal as you obviously are. I have nothing further to say to you and will bid you good day. Good day Madam."

And with that Rory started walking down the sidewalk all puffed-up with righteous anger, but as he walked, he couldn't help wondering whether he had been, perhaps, a little hasty: she had seemed to suggest that they might pay him and well what with student loans, designs on an active social life and a desire to eat, money was kind of a prerequisite. Finally he consoled himself with the obvious truth that if he had talked to that awful woman any longer, he would probably have had to kill her and they still had the death penalty over here, though he could not believe that it applied where annoying female reporters were the victim. What did she think he knew anyway? Apart from the business with the frisbee he wasn't really involved at all. The frisbee! Well now that might just have been something she did want. Well if she had been more pleasant and given him time perhaps asked some simple questions, she could well have got that piece of information.

Thinking about it, though, he was fairly sure that the police would be happy if that bit of information was kept away from the press and anyway, much as he supported press freedom and the need for the fourth estate, he was not happy with the idea of being conspicuous himself, and it didn't seem a good idea to antagonise the authorities, especially if he wanted to be left alone to enjoy his holiday.

He looked at his watch: 13:58. Well he hadn't been told to dress for the occasion, and if he intended making his appointment with the King, he had better find a taxi.

Sitting in the taxi, sorry cab, he started wondering about this King, Moytokk the third, just what country was he king of, anyway? It did not say on the card and, certainly, he had never heard of a King Moytokk, but that was all right, he reasoned, since it was doubtful if the king had heard of him either. He looked up as he felt the cab slowing and wondered if they were arriving. This was certainly a rather exclusive neighbourhood, some of the residences they were passing looked big enough to rate their own village council. They pulled up outside a pair of very impressive closed gates. He paid off the cabbie and alighted, stopping to take stock. The gates were certainly very prepossessing; they were gilded and had some sort of royal crest in the middle. There was a crown, that looked more like a ducal coronet over a circular motif that had alternate red and blue Chinese dragons interspersed with Chinese style golden lions nose to tail round the outside. In the middle were three stylised mountains with a silver upside-down 'Y' and at the bottom apex of the inverted 'Y' was a sort of interlocking twin spiral and above and on either side of the upright were a pair or maidens sitting and combing their hair, facing and mirroring each other exactly.

Leading away from the gate on the inside was a curved gravelled drive that led to an imposing mansion some one-hundred metres away. As he looked around he noticed that there was a brass plate on the right-hand gate post which said 'Residence of the Hoytann Consul-General.' Well he knew the country now, not that he had ever heard of it or anything. As he approached the gates, he was able to see that there was a sentry post just inside the gate and to the left.

"Excuse me, please," He called tentatively. The guard did not move, however, but seemed to be signalling with his eyes. Finally Rory got the idea and looked to his left and saw the view screen and call-panel inset into the gatepost. Feeling a bit of an idiot he pressed the button and waited.

The screen lit up and a pretty Asian face appeared. "Mr. Jones, you are expected please come up to the main building."

The right hand gate gently and noiselessly swung inwards and Rory walked in, passed the now saluting sentry and started the short walk to the residence. The gate was already closing behind him.

Shruck, shruck! The gravel was so deep that it was a like walking on the beach, but without the sea, of course. Now that he had calmed down from his annoyance and was again focussed on the fact that he was about to meet a King, he was wishing most fervently that he had phoned ahead to reschedule — he couldn't help feeling that perhaps jeans and a T-shirt sporting the motif 'Sad Bastard', just maybe wasn't the way to go. Ah well it was too late now, he was going to have to tough it out and pretend that this is the way that he always greeted royalty. All too soon he found that he was approaching the residence proper and the nearer he got the bigger it looked and the smaller he felt: well he hoped that they did not hang people in Hoytann for lèse majesté.

As he approached the steps and began to climb them up to the door, he became aware that the door was being opened. Inside he could see two sentries or servitors in traditional garb, holding knives that looked very like Gurkha Kukris. Just beyond them was an attractive looking girl, who was wearing some sort of flowing robes, and was bowing formally.

"Mr. Jones, you are most welcome, please follow me honoured visitor, His Majesty would see you now."

"Please forgive me, but I am hardly dressed... I mean..." He was floundering and knew it.

"Please do not concern yourself; His Majesty is aware of the time constraints and will be pleased that punctuality was more important to you than appearance."

Somewhat reassured, but still feeling monumentally out of place, Rory bowed to the girl who was still maintaining her bow and crossed the threshold and approached the girl, who now rose from the bow giving him a good look at her face. Well she could be a sister to the nurse, the same midnight-blue eyes, the blue-black hair and the petite physique, only she must have been three or four inches taller than the nurse: still heart-stoppingly beautiful though.

He followed her through into the grand hall and then through various rooms into a waiting area, where she bade him stand. She knocked on the door at the end, opened it and went through shutting it behind herself. Perhaps less than a minute later she re-emerged through the door and announced that His Majesty would see him now.

Again he followed her through the door into a large room some fifteen metres in length, which was obviously acting as an informal court. At the end facing the door was a large comfortable looking chair, in which the King was sitting. Strangely there were no guards in the room, but there were plenty of servants, or perhaps handmaids would be a better term. There must have been thirty or more in the room and all looked like sisters or cousins to the nurse and his guide; all petite, all beautiful. Most were in some kind of traditional dress, though some were dressed in western garments. The majority were kneeling Japanese style, though some were standing around almost like human ornaments, others were scurrying this way or that, clearly intend on carrying out some errand or task of high importance.

His guide walked gracefully towards the King and when about four metres in front of him she went down on her knees and placed her forehead to the floor in a full and graceful kowtow then sitting back on her feet she spoke, "Majesty and royal master, this one brings Mr. Rory Jones into your presence, at your command."

Now Rory felt completely lost, was he meant to kowtow? Should he speak? Should he bow? If he was meant to kowtow, he would kowtow, he was not Lord Macartney and such an act would not be on behalf of his monarch, so would be perfectly legal in British Law. Well he had to do something, so he made an attempt at a formal bow, whilst saying, "Your Majesty."

The king smiled and said, "Very good, Mr. Jones. You show flexibility and diplomatic sense. The kowtow is not required even from my own subjects, only these and others like them perform this obeisance and then only when such formality is to be desired." The King paused looked round the room with sharp piercing eyes and clapped his hands, saying: "A chair for my guest or do you expect him to kneel as you do?" with a gentle smile on his lips and a chuckle at the end.

The King then turned to Rory and said for all to hear, "I love them like my own daughters and in other more enjoyable ways, but they still need to be reminded that I am only human."

Rory was saved the difficulty of answering this comment as two of the girls placed an ornate straight-backed chair behind him and the King motioned that he should sit, so he did.

Rory found himself liking this man. He could see as he looked at the King, that he was old and that age was finally robbing him of his mobility and independence, yet there was no sign of weariness or regret in those bright shining eyes: this was the face of a man who had lived well, who had cared and who was now greeting old age as a long awaited friend and not as an enemy that would bring him down. He lived with nature, not in spite of it.

The King was looking at him also and seemed to look right through him. "You read me well young man, I do not resent my age nor look to foil death when it comes. I know it will not be many years, now, until my spirit returns to the wheel.

Rory's shock showed in his face.

"No I do not read thoughts, but I too read faces and have been doing it for much longer than you. Allow an old man his tricks, without crying magic." The king finished smiling. He turned to one of the girls near him and said, "bring some English-style tea, please."

Again Rory felt the silence when the King stopped talking. He did not know why he was here and could think of nothing to say. He so desperately wanted to fill the silence, but wanted less to show himself a fool.

"Again you impress me — many would have succumbed to the pressure and spoken you did not. It speaks well of you." The King took a breath and waited a moment, then continued, "You must forgive me for testing you, but it is necessary, custom is a hard mistress and sometimes forces even Kings into actions that are certainly unwished and would seem unwise. Though I have found it is usually more unwise to ignore custom or to seek to bend it, than to follow its diktats. Soon I must make good a debt; you have saved me and one of my most precious possessions and in addition you have certainly helped preserve my country's honour. Such acts require a response.

"But Sir, what happened was chance, I did nothing intentionally."

"My third test! But you are wrong you were there; your actions were causal in saving Ti Ling and consequently myself and my country's honour. I believe that there is a spirit in all things and that no act is so small that it is not of consequence, it is just that we can not see enough to know the meaning. It was your choices and your actions that led you to be where you were and it was your decision to move that frisbee, as I believe it is called, and it was thus, that you did have responsibility for what occurred."

"To that extent, maybe, but it would be fraudulent of me to take credit, Sir."

"To that extent then, we must agree to differ and I hope that as you live your life you may begin to see that maybe, unconscious acts are not without intent and meaning."

"If you say so, Sir."

"I do. Ah, but here we are the tea is coming and with it Ti Ling." The king looked up and Rory followed his eyes to see a pretty girl dressed in simple skirt and a plain lavender T-shirt pushing a trolley with an old fashioned silver tea service and bone china cups and saucers.

Rory recognised the girl, it was the nurse from this morning.

"Please serve us Ti Ling." The king asked.

"Tea Mr. Jones?" Ti Ling asked.

"Please, a little milk and just one lump." He asked, fervently hoping that he was actually going to taste a cup of tea worth drinking. The girl nodded and gracefully poured just the right amount of milk into the cup and then opened the lid of the tea pot and gave it a single stir before closing it again and carefully pouring the tea into the cup using a silver strainer. Daintily she placed a single sugar lump into the cup using the tongs and placing a spoon in the saucer handed the cup to Rory, who took it thanking her.

He stirred his tea whilst the King was being served and then with much anticipation took a sip. Heaven; sheer bliss; tea at last. The look on his face must have said it all.

"Maybe I have started to repay my debt?" The King asked with a smile.

"Without question; how they survive in this country without easy access to drinkable tea is beyond my understanding Sir."

"Another cup for our guest Ti Ling." The King requested.

"Thank you Sir."

"Well now, we have a custom that the reward should be in proportion to what has been saved, however certain things can not be divided and must be given or kept dependent on which is fairest. Much as I would wish it not so, you service to my country weights the balance firmly in one direction and a gift rarely given must be considered. Certain things are the property of the crown and only allowed outside the royal family rarely, but to be gifted outside the country is extremely rare and last happened in my great grandfather's time. And in addition for the saving of myself I will bestow a simple and practical gift I shall ensure that you have the money to cover your needs for the future, for I feel that soon you will be facing increased expenditure."

The King clicked his fingers and one of his handmaids put a large leather wallet into his hand. The King handed the wallet together with a card with a hand written address on it to Rory. "Please do not open this, but take it to the address on the card. You have nothing to fear, it just a small private bank that handles my affairs when I am in this country. They, following the directions in the wallet, will attend to everything."

"Thank you Sir, I don't know what to say."

"Well I think you just said it." The King then said something is his own language and all the handmaids bowed. Then Turning back to Rory the King continued, you shall have a guide to help you find the bank. Ti Ling go with him."