Chapter 12
The Wedding Feast
The drinks were flowing, succulent dishes of Ham, beef, fish and chicken were being served with vegetables of every kind, all was smothered with fine gravy.
People laughed, sang and cheered their endless love for the union of Haiden and Amka Torren and at the heart and centre of it all was Zanzo De La Cruz.
Zanzo slapped countless backs, shook hands with anyone lucky enough to be of importance and told raunchy jokes to the delight and shock of anyone listening. A myriad of faces swam by, most happy, some sullen like the uptight father of the groom or the southern girl’s skeleton clad companions who sat drinking water and muttering amongst themselves at their table, pausing now and again to glare out at the crowd. Wonderful people he thought, keeping positive, more ale and wine for the rest of us.
Zanzo realised his tankard was empty so he threw it heedlessly to the floor and grabbed another from a passing servant.“Errmm…Lord Zanzo! That’s my ale!” Shouted the servant, quite rudely in Zanzo’s opinion, there was surely no cause to be rude at a celebration of love such as this. Zanzo realised the man must just be down, he needed Zanzo to cheer him up. He grabbed the man with his free arm hugging him against his chest in a one armed manly embrace.
“My friend, one cannot possess ale, one can only drink it and hope for more. If I drink your ale then how could it ever have been yours? You see now how flawed your logic is don’t you?”
The man looked back at him confused and annoyed but well on the way to enlightenment Zanzo thought.
“Well..errm,” he said, squirming against Zanzo’s embrace. Zanzo tightened his arm around him further, causing him to yelp.
“I, I suppose I could get another one” he stammered. Zanzo beamed at the man happily then released him, “excellent!” He exclaimed, gesturing outwards and spilling some of the stolen ale down the man's tunic. “Be sure to bring it straight to me won’t you, my good man.”
The good man nodded meekly and Zanzo strode away manfully. Everyone was so nice here he thought to himself.
“I see you are enjoying the festivities?” A regal sounding lady's voice called to him, he looked around and found the source. Lady Torren sat watching him from a velvet chair at a table full of Ladies who were also looking at him like they were hungry and he was the next course.
“Ah my beautiful Lady Torren—” he said looking her over, a fine looking woman indeed, an older woman he thought, maybe five or six years older, but what a body.. and it was plain to imagine what was beneath her tight fitting outfit. “— I am indeed enjoying the evening you and your gracious Lord husband have put on.”
Elaina’s lip curled ever so slightly at the mention of her husband, she mastered it quickly but Zanzo didn’t miss it.
“Anything less than magnificent would not be in keeping with high nobility, I imagine things are much the same in your native Libresta.”
“Oh, yes my Lady very much so, but the women that attend them cannot compare to you and your crowd of beauties,” the other ladies giggled, delighted with the compliment.
Lady Torren stared at him, biting her lower lip. “You are.. a fine gentleman Zanzo.. maybe we’ll speak later” she purred huskily before dismissing him by turning back to her ladies who began whispering at once.
He stood for a moment smirking at their backs then noticed one of them staring at him with crazy eyes and a wide smile, Lady Ishrok. Oh god no, he did not intend to finish the night where his morning had begun. He turned on his polished heels and fled.
He walked towards another crowd taking a thirsty swig of the commandeered ale. The crowd of finely dressed people appeared to be heading from the feasting hall to the adjoined ballroom. Dancing? He thought taking another swig, well of course there would be dancing!... ah but dancing.. hmm.
A plan formed in his head, this is how I get her! Oh Zanzo you brilliant man you.
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He scanned the feast hall quickly and spotted what he wanted. Mercy sat at a table picking at the food on her plate, she appeared to have been seated next to a festively plump woman who was fanning her sweaty head. What a fine pair they make, a grand juxtaposition.
He took one more swig of his ale for luck — not that he needed it — then threw it away like the last. Before walking right towards Mercy.
She would look up and meet his eyes and he would say, “my dear Mercy, may I have the pleasure of a dance with one so lovely as you,” she would blush profusely and her fat dining companion would squeal with joy as all swine do and then say something like, “you go girl, Zanzo is a catch.” He would be humble of course and then—-
Someone walked right into him and grabbed his necklace dragging him down and began leading him away with an irresistible grip. Zanzo squawked and batted at the arm then realised he would look weak being dragged off and decided to walk with his harasser instead. He looked up and saw who it was.
“Master Greeves, how nice to see you here. Be a good fellow and let go of me will you?”The grey faced bastard ignored him and continued to lead him away. Well, Zanzo wasn’t about to put up with this, it would not be his way at all. He swung a fist at the ugly Orak’s scarred face. Greeves caught it and twisted it, Zanzo yelped, and decided that maybe it would be better if he let this play out for now.
They walked into an empty corridor and Greeves released him.
“What’s the meaning of this!” He shouted at Greeves rubbing his wrist. Greeves just stood there in the shadows. The moment stretched out.
“Mercy..” he finally said in a harsh gravelly tone. Whether he meant his daughter or he was begging for his life was anyone’s guess after what he’d just done. Zanzo assumed it was the former though.
“What about her?” He snapped.
“You know what” the Orak’s heavy fists clenched. Zanzo sighed. “I was only going to ask her to dance, my friend.”
“You’re full of shit, and I’m not your friend”
Zanzo admired this creature's candor.
“Well that truly hurts my feelings, maybe we should remedy that and have an ale together. You could tell me of your life and teach me a thing or two about your culture there—“
“Don’t try your charm with me fool, I stuck with you for the gold, nothing more… But now you think to try and bed my daughter? No chance.”
Zanzo was taken aback by this heinous accusation. Had he ever said aloud his notions of bedding Mercy? Never. Who did this Scribble face think he was?
“Your daughter?, Greeves. One can not simply own a daughter, one can only hope—“
“I said shut up with your nonsense! you might be able to bully the idiots out there out of their drinks with it, but you won’t be bullying me.”
“You heard me earlier? I didn’t see you at the feast” Zanzo asked curiously.
“These long ears do more than just frame my face, I was out here.”
“How nice for you. But anyway, I assure you I have no designs on your girl so there really is no reason for all this.”
Greeves grunted his contempt for that then moved closer.
“Just stay away from her and leave her out of your selfish schemes, then we’ll have no quarrel,” he snarled through gritted teeth, accenting his point by jabbing Zanzo’s chest with one gnarled finger.
“Of course Greeves, whatever you wish.”
The Orak stepped away from him,turned and walked off down the hall without another word.
A nasty interview to be sure Zanzo thought as he walked back to the feast hall. He stood in the entrance watching the revelry thinking of the encounter. Selfish schemes? Me, Zanzo De La Cruz? The very centre of selflessness!
He’d show that old grey fool a thing or two about selfishness. But wait.. he realised, if Greeves was warning him away from Mercy then that meant he was definitely in with a chance with her. He spotted Mercy again eating a chicken leg with dainty hands, much to the disgust of her companion. One of a kind he mused.
He’d prefer not to upset the Orak though, he was a damned useful fellow and he did hope to retain his services, he also didn’t want to fight him. What to do though? It was truly an enigma.
He was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder which turned out to be the man he’d mistaken for a servant earlier. He held out another full tankard of ale to him with quivering hands.
“You said to bring this to you?” He asked gingerly. Zanzo smirked, if only everyone was as accommodating as this gentleman.
Zanzo took the proffered ale and had a hearty swig. It was warm, had the man been walking around with it looking for him this whole time? Zanzo spat the warm dross out on the man's chest. He squealed and covered his face with his hands.
“You feel that? It’s warm! Get out of my sight!” The man scurried away with a look of extreme hurt on his face.
That was ungracious of me, maybe I am selfish. Maybe Greeves is right? Maybe I need to change? To look inward and to think of others..
Zanzo decided he would leave Mercy alone tonight and find his fun elsewhere. After all, no good could come of him pursuing her.