As the Year DiesA Chapter by SpeedyHobbit Armstrong“Stand back! Give her air!” yelled the panicked king, rushing to his wife's side. "Someone fetch a healer!” The group dispersed, revealing the queen’s inert form. She’d gone utterly still, face ashen.Kiran rolled the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows. Why had he worn a cloak? It felt more like the end of April than the last day of December. Almost none of the hobbits bustling around the kingdom of Drémeadow had the scarves, mittens and head coverings one would typically wear in early winter. Wasn’t Drémeadow supposed to be colder than Cancalia since it was further north on the continent? Ah, well. He wasn’t about to complain. He’d be out here at least an hour while the two princes and two princesses carried out the tradition of greeting guests in person for the Pre-New Years Banquet. Unseasonably warm was preferable to bitter cold while he juggled a fifth line to speed up the admittance process and making sure Princess Nora, Princess Jillian, Prince Odo and Prince Folco were safe. The royal family's home stood out amidst the spread-out houses, shops, silos, storage sheds and marketplaces. Not only was it very large compared to the other buildings, but it was the only edifice with two stories. A five-foot stone wall enclosed the wooden palace. Hedges lined the inside and outside of the wall. Bare rosebushes lined the front. The sides were devoid of plants, but bare dirt evidenced the presence a garden at times of the year that permitted plant life. Compared to other kingdoms, the Drémeadow palace’s exterior was nondescript. The Foxtrots, like most halflings, preferred making the inside as comfortable as possible to impressing foreign visitors with a gaudy exterior. Dozens of
party-goers gathered around the palace in Drémeadow’s capital city,
Hardscrabble. Those waiting outside the front gate, evenly distributed among
five queues, were clad in dressy clothes. Clips and pins held carefully
styled curls and waves in places. The dresses, coats and trousers were the
finest material their respective wearers could afford. Seems Drémeadow’s halflings- no, hobbits,Kiran, they hate being called halflings
- dress up just as much as Cancalia’s humans, elves, dwarves and gnomes. The
most interesting thing here was the homogeneity of the population. The palace
had employees of other races but otherwise Drémeadow seemed all hobbits. Hobbit guards in garments of red, brown and gold stood ten yards back watching the princes and princesses check invitations. As the adolescent and young adult children of the king and queen, they wore the most expensive garb of all. Their gold jewelry and hair ornaments glistened in the sinking sun. Kiran, the fifth, towered over the two lads to his left and the young hobbit-women to his right. Both his height and the gold armor bearing a crest other than Drémeadow’s made him stand out like a sore thumb. He was the only one out here that wasn’t a hobbit. But
then, it could have been worse. There could be orcs. Kiran was grateful none of
the orc guards were out here. He’d known about and felt disquieted by their
presence ever since he’d entered Drémeadow as an envoy from Cancalia a week ago.
He’d casually asked about them the other day once he’d built enough rapport
with his hosts. King Hrothgar said his advisor Jarmir Esteel had suggested the
orcs. Jarmir’s reasoning was that orcs were bigger and thus useful for
protecting Drémeadow denizens in ways his own race could not- through brute
strength. Kiran was far from satisfied. Though none of the orcs had done
anything, he did not trust them. He could not forget the way their eyes had
malevolently followed him after they noticed the holy symbol of his god. Then
there were the various horror stories about orcs around the continent to
consider, not to mention his own personal experiences. Presumably the orcs in
the employ of Drémeadow’s king were better behaved than most, as Kiran had seen
no signs of wanton destruction, but it seemed too good to be true that the orcs
were refraining from trouble. Orcs were notoriously difficult to control. What
was keeping them from devastating the entire city? Ah, well, not my homeland, I suppose I oughtn’t worry too much. At
least I don’t have to have dealings with them. Thank the gods. The man's attention shifted to a particularly large family, the Rivers, near the front of the youngest hobbit's line. They were too deeply immersed in discussion to notice, let alone acknowledge him even though he'd become acquainted with some of them, especially the eldest, Lindo. “I can scarcely believe it’s already becoming 3015. It seems just yesterday the Continental Calendar hit 3000! And would you believe we’ve been a monarchy for five years already? Seems the Restructuring just happened!” remarked a corpulent gentlehobbit with a blue cloak. He nodded towards the youngest of the hobbits checking invitations, a gangly adolescent. “But then, Prince Folco was just a pudgy lad. Nowhere near my height, let alone taller than me!” “Will the party be any fun?” asked a tiny girl. “Or will it be the king or queen talking the whole time? Say, look at that!” She pointed directly at Kiran. "Why's he so tall?" Kiran could not help but smile at her bluntness. Young children had no restraint on their words. “Don’t be daft, that’s a human,” Lindo snapped. “And Folco’s family always throws good banquets. Plenty of eating, drinking and entertainment for all.” “His Highness.” rebuked his mother. “You might be good friends with Prince Folco, but you’re in public.” The adolescent muttered, “right.” He gestured to the Pre-New Years Banquet invitations held by his parents and younger siblings. “Give those here. I’ll give them to Prince Folco.” As the prince signaled to the guards that the four hobbits in front of him were permitted to pass, Lindo stepped forward with a respectful bow of his head, presenting the pile parchment. “Your Highness, the Rivers family.” He tucked his chin to his chest, waiting for the young prince to take them. The dark-haired prince smiled slightly as he accepted the parchment, halfheartedly thumbing through them. “Go on,” he whispered. As the Riverses began to pass through the ornate wooden gate, Prince Folco laid a sinewy hand on Lindo’s elbow. “You know, you don’t have to bother with the niceties. How many times do I have to tell you? People know we’ve been friends since before we ever became a monarchy. It’s not exactly a state secret.” “Don’t be absurd, others can hear,” Lindo whispered back to Prince Folco as the Rivers family exchanged discreet smiles with the prince. “Talk to you after if you have any time to sneak away, okay?” He inclined his head one last time. "Straight through the gate, along the path and into the main door," said Folco, his voice exaggeratedly businesslike. "There will be guards to direct yoiu ~*~*~ Once the palace’s banquet hall was filled to capacity and wine had been distributed to the guests, the king and queen stood up. The king was first to speak. “Welcome, ladies and gentlehobbits, to the annual Pre-New Years Banquet. I am pleased to see each and every one of you present in my hall. My staff has my thanks for ensuring the banquet would be possible. I intend to keep my speech short-“ there were several appreciative smiles among the guests- “as I know everyone is hungry. We shall commence our feast with Queen Arabella leading us in a toast.” A smattering of applause ensued. Queen Arabella’s fine-boned hand rose, holding her red wine aloft in the air. The tight golden-brown curls gathered by several gold clips into a long plait and topped by a small gold crown were immaculate. Though the lines in her face indicated middle age, her dark brown eyes were vivacious, her cheeks rosy with the glow reminiscent of youth. “My dear hobbits! Thank you all for taking the time and effort to travel here tonight despite the cold. I greatly appreciate seeing each and every one of you gathered here, as do King Hrothgar, Princess Nora, Princess Jillian, Prince Odo and Prince Folco.” The royal family, oldest to youngest, gave a wave at mention of their name. “I invite you all to take part in a toast. Raise your glasses.” Crystal wine glasses rose to the ceiling all over the feast hall. “To a happy and prosperous 3015!” Arabella said in acknowledgement of the Continental Calendar. The rest of the hall echoed her. “To family and friendship!” Another echo. “To the health of all in Drémeadow!” At that, the queen began to drain her glass, followed by the rest of the royal family and all the guests. Suddenly, Queen Arabella’s eyes went very wide. Her pupils contracted. Her rosy face blanched to white, then grey, then an ominous greenish hue as she began to gag and cough. The human stirred, sliding his chair back, staring at the ruler with a speculative face. Gasps, resonating cries and murmurs erupted among the guests. A series of crashes reverberated around the hall as the Queen collapsed in convulsions, her long sleeve sweeping her plate, silverware and some of Princess Nora’s utensils off the High Table. One of her flailing arms struck her chair, knocking it sideways. Her grip loosened on her crystal glass. A dark purple stain spread on the white silk carpet covering the dais. The crystal glass rolled along the dais and off the platform, shattering upon the stone floor. There were several cries. Many of those sharing a table with the royal family left their seats, crowding around the thrashing queen. “Stand back! Give her air!” bellowed the panicked king, rushing from his seat to the side of his wife. He shoved aside Princess Nora and Prince Odo to get to his wife. “Out of my way! All of you! Someone fetch a healer!” The group dispersed, revealing the queen’s inert form. She’d gone utterly still, face ashen. The human stood, striding towards the anxious hobbits. A lithe figure with long pointed ears and sweeping bottle-green robes with silver lining that highlighted his green eyes emerged from the chamber behind the High Table. The elf cut in front of the human, knelt over the queen, jet-black hair falling into his thin face. She had gone utterly still. He seized her wrist. His thin, straight eyebrows deepened into a frown. The bony hand hovered just above her mouth to feel for breath, then straightened her face and placed two fingers against Queen Arabella’s neck. Finally, his pinkies closed the inert hobbit’s eyelids over fixed and dilated brown eyes devoid of light. The faces of the king and queen's sons and daughters varied in reaction.Though all but Folco were over twenty and thus past the age of legal adulthood, they looked suddenly as uncertain as five-year-olds away from their parents for the first time. Jillian blinked rapidly. Odo's fists were clenched, and Nora clutched her chair so hard that her knuckles whitened. Whispers swept the hall. More than once, the paladin was sure he heard the word "poison." Presently, several servants bore the lifeless queen out of the hall. The
human sank into his chair in dismay. The two princes and two princesses looked
fearfully at the goblets from whence they’d just imbibed their own wine. The elf whispered something to the king, who turned very pale. His
children, comprehending, shared expressions of mingled shock, disbelief and
terror. The look in the elf’s jade eyes could chill one’s blood. The elf and
the king exchanged whispered words impossible for anyone else to hear through
the hullaballoo erupting in the hall. The king stepped forward, extending a long finger towards the human, cheeks bright red spots against a white background. Golden-brown eyes smoldered with fury. The confused human retreated a step. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. “Paladin!” roared King Hrothgar. “How dare you! You enter my land, we grant you hospitality, and you repay us by taking away my wife’s breath and heartbeat with your poison! Leave at once!”© 2014 SpeedyHobbit ArmstrongAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorSpeedyHobbit ArmstrongLong Island, NYAboutMy name is Cher Armstrong, also known as Speedy Hobbit. I'm a USATF athlete in racewalking for the Raleigh Walkers club team. I just graduated from Queens College in Queens borough in New York Ci.. more..Writing
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