Chapter 4

The mage’s three stunning daughters, Tata, Cara, and Nata, were also in the royal box, as befitted the children of Aqua’s most powerful human. It was whispered that in order to keep the magical bloodline intact, Rapha had resorted to non-normal means to produce the sisters.

The daughters’ striking, unearthly beauty certainly gave credence to those rumors: golden hair and skin that was purer and more radiant than the sun, and piercing figures that could make a blind man drool, bluer-than-sky blue eyes that could look right through a person, mesmerizing or melting depending on their moods. In fact, all of their features were sheer perfection.

Rapha had given her daughters far more than staggering looks. Each of the sisters had reached archmage designation before the age of five. Only their mother, the mega-mage, was more powerful. The other mages of TechnoLot regarded this legendary family with a mixture of envy and fear, as befitted beings of lower magical ability.

Tata, who was a bit darker in hair and mood than her sisters, stood beside Baris with her hand placed gently yet firmly on his shoulder. She was paying Prince Baris far more attention than those silly men trying to knock each other down. Baris, for his part, hardly ever removed his glance from Tata. While they may not have been in love, they were certainly in lust.

Cara, who, besides being a mage, also hosted a very popular variety show on the Magic Box, had a wireless microphone in her hand. She leaned over the side of the royal box, not watching the match but interviewing lucky spectators on the day’s action and her hairstyle, which today she wore up in a bun with little lance-shaped pins. It was hard to tell what these spectators enjoyed more: the chance to be on the Magic Box or the fact that they were lucky enough to be so close to the lovely mage.

Cara could keep the interviews going for hours, or at least until some unfortunate fan made the mistake of telling her that he enjoyed her show almost as much as the joust. After this inevitable event, Cara, in true diva fashion, usually got mad and then turned the offending fan into a potato, much to the delight of the other fans.

Nata, who had the lightest colored hair of the three sisters, was there in body, but by the look of boredom on her face, she would rather have been somewhere, anywhere, else. Under normal circumstances, her beauty, amply displayed through her gown, combined with her single status, would have caused quite a disturbance to the joust with admiring knights paying more attention to Nata than their worthy, but far less attractive, opponents. Only the most foolhardy, however, would ever risk angering Nata with a lingering stare. She was expecting something more out of life. She wasn’t sure what it was, and nobody was about to pry into it.

Bartz reached King Lary and bowed deeply. It was the most heartfelt gesture Bartz had made all day. He knew King Lary was not the sharpest guy on the planet, but this did not diminish Bartz’s respect for him or what he had done in the past. Bartz gave each of the others in the box a polite nod of acknowledgment.

“Good match there, Big Blue! Especially that part where you tossed your sword at Red! It was downright inspiring,” King Lary said very enthusiastically.

His face always had a wide smile that seemed to run completely from one side to the other. Falca would probably say, “It’s easy to smile when you are king,” or “He can smile; after all, ignorance is happiness.” Nonetheless, Bartz found the king’s near-constant smile a comforting, affirming image in a world that could often be not so comforting and not so affirming.

“Thanks, sire,” Bartz said as he straightened up.

“Now come-come, Blue, I’ve known you since you were a wee little thing in clothes—call me King Lary.”

“Thanks, King Lary.”

“By the way, I really liked the way you zinged him after the fight. That was funny! Though I have to admit it took me awhile to get the jest.”

Rapha leaned over to King Lary and started whispering something.

“Right. Yes. Good point. Boy, you are smart,” King Lary said as Rapha whispered.

Once Rapha finished, King Lary turned his attention back to Bartz.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to penalize you and Red for fighting after the fight. Kids all over the territory were watching the broadcast of this joust. Zoots, we expect a 69 share. We can’t have you setting a bad example by fighting after the fights,” King Lary said to Bartz.

“I understand,” Bartz said.

“I’m glad somebody does,” Falca whispered to Bartz.

“Yes, yes, I knew you would!” King Lary said, very sure of himself.

Bartz looked at the empty seat. “May I inquire as to the whereabouts of the lovely Opal today?”

King Lary looked at the chair, his eyes lit with wonder and confusion. He seemed amazed that the chair was empty. Finally, he said, “Gee, I don’t know. Gee, I’m the king. I’m supposed to know everything.”

“If I may interrupt, Father,” Prince Baris said, leaning from his throne to the king’s.

“Yes-yes, Baris. Any light you can shed on the subject would be appreciated,” King Lary said with a slight ‘I’m lost, but I’m used to it’ smile.

Baris cleared his throat very regally, then pronounced, “My dear sister, heiress to your throne, is spending the day in the country planning her policies for when she takes over.”

King Lary turned to his faithful mage Rapha. “Am I dying?” he asked.

Rapha put her hand on her king’s shoulder. “No, sire. You are in perfect physical health for a man of your age,” the mage reassured him. “Opal just likes to plan years and years ahead. She takes her future role as queen and leader very seriously.”

King Lary smiled, relieved. “As she should. Being a leader is a very serious and difficult job. Only the best people are born to handle it,” he said.

Falca started to laugh, but Bartz put his hands over her beak.

“She’s even planning open communications with the other territories,” Baris said, not bothering to hide his contempt for the idea.

King Lary’s smile grew wider. He enjoyed being able to follow the conversation. “Yes, yes. She is an ambitious and dedicated one, my Opal,” he said. “Sometimes I think she feels responsible for her mother, Queen Deedee, dying while giving birth to her.” King Lary lowered his eyes. “May her spirit rest in peace.” King Lary raised his eyes again. “Then again, what do I know? After all, I’m just the king, not a mental healer.”

Bartz once again put his hand over Falca’s beak to stop any potential comments.

“Whatever her motivation, I am sure Opal will make a great queen,” King Lary said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Bartz said with another polite bow.

He decided he should make a hasty retreat before Falca said something that would get them both in trouble. The opportunities were too plentiful.

Bartz straightened himself and told King Lary, “Well, sire, I’ll be on my way now—home to nurse my wounds.”

King Lary stood up to give Bartz a little salute. “Yes, yes. That would be a good idea. I’ll tell Opal you say howdy.”

“Yes, please do,” Bartz said as he turned to walk away.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled,” Falca muttered under her breath.

The king waved to the retreating figures of knight and bird for a long time. As the king stood there waving, Prince Baris stood up and stretched. “It has been a long joust,” he yawned. “I think I will return to my quarters now.”

“May I escort you to the castle, my kind prince?” Tata asked. “A prince should never walk alone.”

Baris smiled. “Of course, kind Tata.”

The two started off toward the castle.

King Lary turned to Rapha, Cara, and Nata. “You know, I’m starting to think there might be something going on between those two!”

“Really?” Rapha said, trying her hardest to show some surprise.

Cara didn’t hear at all since she was already back on the air, giving her views on the day’s actions. She had thought for a tic or two about trying to get an interview with Bartz but decided her fans would much rather listen to her than some third-place knight.

Nata ignored the entire scene, lost deep in her thoughts.