Fortis was completely surprised by the odd mixture of formal and casual elements to their reception. Even as they began approaching the outermost cluster of tents, heavily armed men, all quite large and imposing, greeted them. Without exchanging any words, the troops simply bowed, the fell in as escorts. Glancing back, Fortis saw the bemused look on the twins’ faces. It took quite a while to actually reach the Sheik’s Court. The tent was huge, and people were busy all around it. As they neared the door, the soldiers led them under an ornate awning, mostly in clan colors.
Some fellow, whose colorful robes were near ankle length, and a staff of neatly attired servants, met them there. They were all quickly relieved of their burdens, which were gathered and placed at the feet of four alert soldiers who stepped forward for the purpose. In very short order, they were also relieved of their travel robes and given very nice replacements, also nearly reaching the ground. They were joined in front by some sort of catchment, with the neck open to expose what they wore beneath. The twins kept their head wraps.
The servants also wiped their faces and hands with warm damp cloths, brushed off their boots, and then waved some sort of censor around them. The aromatic smoke clung to them. Then the man in charge led them to the main entrance on one end of the tent. Two more burly guards pulled back the curtains. They were met by an even more richly dressed man wearing an oddly shaped hat. Fortis would have called it huge floppy beret, hanging off the left side. He smiled wordlessly, brought George forward, placed Fortis directly behind him, and the twins abreast at the rear, some three paces back. He then turned and marched them all down the length of the wide open space. Various functionaries were scattered around the sandy floor.
There was a huge carpet covering the sand at the end of this huge area. As they drew closer to it, Fortis realized the focus of attention was on the right hand side ahead of them. The man with the funny hat led them to the edge of the carpet, then ducked to one side. With a fluid sweep of the hand, he motioned them to continue. The pattern on the carpet indicated something to George who walked to it, turned quickly and bowed to the waist. Fortis slowed, confused, but George quickly reached out his hand to catch Fortis by the shoulder and turn him to face the Sheik, whose throne was in a chamber off to the side, curtains drawn back.
He copied George’s bow, and heard himself introduced formally once again. He rose to see a man about George’s age sitting on a fancy folding chair. He wore a very fine, smooth purple cap with a thin, bright yellow border on it. His beard was oiled, and his robe only slightly fancier than the fellow who led them inside, but it had a train on it, which was pulled to one side.
The simplicity of his greeting is what surprised Fortis. In a rather mild voice, “Welcome Fortis. George, it’s so good to see you again. I owe you both a debt of gratitude for all you’ve done.”
George took this as his signal. The twins were still standing on the edge of the carpet. George gestured them forward. They strode forward abreast, turned in unison directly to Fortis’ left, turned and dropped to one knee in unison without a word. George spoke, “My Lord, without these men, we would not stand before you now. Stanley and Stephen, sons of Charles Farrell. They were our escorts the entire way, and acquitted themselves with honor.”
The Sheik smiled. “They shall be honored, indeed. Rise, lads.”
The twins stood smartly.
“I welcome you this day to the ranks of Master Hunters of the Clan.” Their eyes widened in surprise. “Our armory is open to you. Do not leave it empty handed. Let it be published the household of Farrell is tax free in Clan Johnston. Go now and change your attire to that of freemen. We are blessed to see you and expect that pleasure again soon.”
They smartly dropped to their knees again, then rose and marched out. On cue, several members of the court applauded, even cheering a bit. George took the opportunity to lean over and remark, “Master Hunter is a special privilege on top of everything else, with numerous benefits. That and freeman status makes them eligible to carry swords.”
Once they were off the carpet, all eyes turned back to the Sheik. He clapped his hands once, and everyone relaxed. It was as if ceremony was turned off instantly. Almost everyone receded respectfully from the throne. George pulled Fortis forward as the Sheik rose, shrugged of the encumbering robe, and spoke first. “George, it is good to see you are safe.” They embraced warmly, then the Sheik went on, “So we didn’t catch the ranger. I suppose we didn’t really expect it. But if those boys detected his movements, they are his equal, if only lacking some experience. We need them in the proper frame of mind to carry the burdens they’ll soon face.”
His eyes drifted downward a moment as he considered something. Turning to face Fortis, “So, in two weeks your superiors will know about us. The sooner the better. Did George mention our little project for future trade relations?”
Fortis decided he could dare a little humor. “George lays a better trap than any of his enemies.”
George guffawed, and the Sheik bent just a little in his own laughter. When he had recovered, “I’m glad he caught you.” Turning to George, “You didn’t tell me he was so sharp minded.”
“He surprises me often, Sir.”
At that moment, they were interrupted by one of the many aides in the Sheik’s Court. He leaned very close to the Sheik. “My Lord, we shall have serious trouble creating a double for this one,” politely indicating Fortis.
Without glancing at the aide, the Sheik said quietly. “Do what you can.” Fortis was struggling to guess what a double would be for, but was not prepared for what came next. He drew them physically close.
“Fortis, we are going to dispatch someone looking like you and George northward on a fast ship. They will be leaving within the hour. I’m afraid we will have to ask you to disappear again. My staff will outfit you two as servants before you leave, and you’ll need to be sure to wear that cowl again.” He sighed deeply, then smiled. “The things we have to do to save the human race.” Stepping back, he said in a louder voice. “I sincerely hope things slow down in a week or two; we never get to talk, George.”
With that, the Sheik walked away and disappeared in a sea of purple-and-yellow clad servants. The aide who had interrupted earlier still stood by, and George turned to him. “Okay, take us away.”
You wrote “Master Hunter is a special privilege on top of everything else, with numerous benefits. That and freeman status makes them eligible to carry swords.”
Is there a symbolism to being eligible to carry the swords? Is it symbolic of the Bible?
I was hoping that would be fairly obvious. Anyone can swing a sword around, but people can get hurt without some practice. That includes innocent bystanders. A certain level of maturity and dedication justifies giving someone wider authority. This is true in the literal sense, as well as the spiritual. I have seen some horrific abuse handed out by people who were just so sure they knew what the Bible required of others, typically by people who had failed to turn the sword on their own souls, first.