Writing Sample: "A Slow Start" |
The sun was setting. Col had finally found the gates to the city center, but the guards in their pretty red shirts and shining armor had not responded well to his arrival. The appearance of a ‘barbarian’ at their gates – especially one so well armed – triggered a flurry of activity.
They let him inside only when the right administrator had been summoned away from his evening meal and Col had shown him the badge of his tribe. The small metal disk was shaped on one side to represent their sun god Astor and moon goddess Liari and on the other in the shape of the symbol of the spirit god worshipped in West Cray. It was a token of the open trade agreement between West Cray and his tribe: an agreement that had seen little use over the last generation. East Cray did not officially block the trade routes, but it made it easier for tradesmen to do business with them instead of their western neighbor.
Carrying the badge signified that Col officially represented his people. To him, it meant that they should let him in to speak his peace as his elders had ordered. To them, this meant apologizing for the misunderstanding at the gate and ushering him to a ‘guest room’ to wait.
“I hope you will be comfortable here, while I arrange for someone to hear your request.” The guards at least had looked him in the eye. This administrator looked everywhere but, fussing with the decorations and making a beeline for the door.
“My request must be heard by the King,” Col responded, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. “I will receive an answer from him alone.”
The administrator’s eyes widened, and he smiled nervously. “I will do my best, but it may take some time.”
Col nodded as if he understood, then stepped into the other man’s personal space, forcing the administrator to look up at him. “I understand your king is busy. We have been patient, but since our previous messages got no response, my elders sent me.” He smiled, causing the scar on his upper lip to lighten as the skin stretched. “For some reason, they believe I may make a … stronger impression.” He paused, hoping he had remembered the words the elders had coached him with correctly. “I will, of course, wait on King Gharad. But please ask him, with respect, to see me soon.”
The administrator stammered something incomprehensible, then added that food and water were on their way, and he was welcome to ‘refresh’ himself.
After the door had closed, Col realized he probably meant washing up. After so long on the road, he probably did have a bit of a stink to him. He lifted the sleeve of his cloak to his nose and took a whiff, and blinked as his eyes started to water. No doubt then; he needed to bathe.
There was a long bath tub in the corner of the room, with towels nearby. Given the pace of things so far here, he probably had time to soak. Now, if only he could figure out which of the contraptions in this room fetched him water…
They let him inside only when the right administrator had been summoned away from his evening meal and Col had shown him the badge of his tribe. The small metal disk was shaped on one side to represent their sun god Astor and moon goddess Liari and on the other in the shape of the symbol of the spirit god worshipped in West Cray. It was a token of the open trade agreement between West Cray and his tribe: an agreement that had seen little use over the last generation. East Cray did not officially block the trade routes, but it made it easier for tradesmen to do business with them instead of their western neighbor.
Carrying the badge signified that Col officially represented his people. To him, it meant that they should let him in to speak his peace as his elders had ordered. To them, this meant apologizing for the misunderstanding at the gate and ushering him to a ‘guest room’ to wait.
“I hope you will be comfortable here, while I arrange for someone to hear your request.” The guards at least had looked him in the eye. This administrator looked everywhere but, fussing with the decorations and making a beeline for the door.
“My request must be heard by the King,” Col responded, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. “I will receive an answer from him alone.”
The administrator’s eyes widened, and he smiled nervously. “I will do my best, but it may take some time.”
Col nodded as if he understood, then stepped into the other man’s personal space, forcing the administrator to look up at him. “I understand your king is busy. We have been patient, but since our previous messages got no response, my elders sent me.” He smiled, causing the scar on his upper lip to lighten as the skin stretched. “For some reason, they believe I may make a … stronger impression.” He paused, hoping he had remembered the words the elders had coached him with correctly. “I will, of course, wait on King Gharad. But please ask him, with respect, to see me soon.”
The administrator stammered something incomprehensible, then added that food and water were on their way, and he was welcome to ‘refresh’ himself.
After the door had closed, Col realized he probably meant washing up. After so long on the road, he probably did have a bit of a stink to him. He lifted the sleeve of his cloak to his nose and took a whiff, and blinked as his eyes started to water. No doubt then; he needed to bathe.
There was a long bath tub in the corner of the room, with towels nearby. Given the pace of things so far here, he probably had time to soak. Now, if only he could figure out which of the contraptions in this room fetched him water…