The arrival of the King and his men was as a parade, apprised of twenty mounted warriors, four bannerman, the King's carriage and a covered wagon. With ten of the warriors leading the way, two of the bannermen followed, and behind them, pulled by a team of six eranth, was the King's carriage, the other two bannerman following behind. With their banners of dark grey and dark, olive green, and the crowned serpent, the king's emblem embroidered in purple on its face, swaying in the wind as they moved down the road, they kept a secure distance between the carriage and the wagon that followed, while the remaining ten warriors guarded the rear of the convoy.
All the men were clad in matte black armor, with crisp, sharp edges, helmets with full face masks, and dress cloaks of rich, dark, olive green, that were draped in an elegant fashion over the backs of their eranth mounts.
To Hutch, the eranth were grotesquely beautiful, horse-like creatures. The height of the largest draft horses he had ever seen, they were broad in the shoulders, extremely long in the legs with shallow bellies, flat backs, and large cloven hooves with ample feathering on the fetlocks. Thick, spade shaped scales, the largest the size of Hutch's hand, covered their muscular bodies. Glossy manes and tails were braided down beneath the decorative plates of armor, and triangular shaped heads on long necks hosted short, pointed ears, angry eyes of black and gold, long upward curving horns, and tusks, a third the diameter and half the length, protruding from the sides of their mouths. Even as Ghan'dono reassured him that eranth were gentle, herbivore, herd animals, their appearance told him otherwise.
With both sides of the town square lined with the members of the tribe, the parade made their way passed them, down the main road towards the longhouse, turning back the way they came in, stopping once the carriage arrived at the entrance, where the chief, his xalgar, and their three sons were waiting.
The people had cheered and put on a show for the arrival, but the tension in the air made no one feel safe, now that the king and his men had arrived. The warriors were all large, burly men, built for battle, while the bannerman were smaller in stature, three of which were women, the fourth a younger man.
With the parade now stopped, the people grew quiet and still. Standing with Ghan'dono and Kahlala, at the end of the main road near the longhouse, Hutch had an excellent view of the carriage. It was less extravagant than he had thought it would be; plain and matte grey. The same crowned serpent was painted on the front, behind the pair of drivers, being the only indication that it belonged to the king. Otherwise, it was a simple wooden box with small windows covered by green curtains, suspended over iron wheels and frame, by what, as far as Hutch could tell, were a form of leaf spring, presumably to make the ride more comfortable. While two drivers shared the front bench, and two servants sat on the back, the luggage was secured to the roof, covered by a curved framework and cloth tarp that had been painted matte grey like the carriage. And like the drivers on both the carriage and the wagon, the servants were dressed in modest clothes; drab, earthen colors, and grey cloaks. Nothing that would stand out or reflect light.
The servants moved swiftly when the carriage came to a stop, opening the side door and pulling out the step. When they moved out of the way, a man, wrapped in a cloak, the same green as his guards, with the hood up and black veil to hide his face, stepped out. The chief and his family were the first to drop to their knees, their hands firmly upon the ground, heads bowed, and the entirety of the tribe then followed suit.
Hutch had hesitated taken in by the moment, he only dropped down when he felt Ghan'dono's hand upon his ankle. Glancing at him from the corner of his eye, he could see the fear now written on Ghan'dono's face. He knew he'd made a mistake and could only hope it had gone unnoticed.
"Rise," the cloaked figure spoke, and like well-trained dogs, the people of the tribe lifted their heads and stood.
"The Moahaba welcome you, King Salvador," the portly chief remarked, keeping his head bowed as he spoke. "I'm Rustaf, chief of this tribe. I hope you will find the accommodations to your liking."
The king didn't speak as a second man, far shorter than the first, with brown and white patterned skin and short brown hair with black stripes, dressed in fashionable robes, exited the carriage behind him.
"Your hospitality is most appreciated, Chief Rustaf. I'm Jaawern, principal advisor to our king. We will require a handful of your men to help with the luggage, but the rest of your tribe is free to go about their day. As you can imagine, it has been a long day of travel, we would appreciate being shown to our rooms."
Hutch couldn't make out what was being said over the sound of the guards and bannerman dismounting, and watched as the chief spoke to his eldest son, before leading the King and his advisor inside.
"I'm going to have to help with the king's men," Ghan'dono said, having turned to face them. "Take Kahlala home and don't leave. When it gets dark, leave the lanterns unlit, even if I have not returned."
"But father…"
"No, Kahlala. Do as I say."
"Ghan'dono," Rustaf's eldest son spoke from behind him. "Pardon the interruption, but my father has requested that you join him inside."
"Is that boy with you?" the bannerman who had been standing closest to them asked Ghan'dono, while motioning in Hutch's direction.
Ghan'dono paused and glanced back, stepping to the side, blocking the bannerman's view of Kahlala before responding. "Yes, sir. He is.
"I'm borrowing him. Come over here, boy," the bannerman ordered, motioning for Hutch to move closer. "And hurry up!"
"Do as he asks of you," Ghan'dono stated, grabbing Hutch by the shoulder and pushing him forward. "Forgive his hesitations. It's his first time seeing an eranth up close."
Hutch bowed his head, both hating how Ghan'dono was treating him and yet thankful that he had given a plausible excuse for his odd behavior.
"I suppose they are rather intimidating," the bannerman huffed as he pushed the pole from which the king's heraldry hung into his chest. "Do not let the banner touch the ground."
Taking the pole, Hutch gathered the tail of the banner into his hand, doing his best to treat it respectfully as he folded it in a manner that would make it easiest to carry without risk of dropping it, not realizing that Ghan'dono had already abandoned him to his fate, and Kahlala had disappeared as the crowd dispersed.
"What is your name boy?" the bannerman asked as he began to inspect something hanging from his saddle.
"Hutch."
"Hutch? Unusual name for a Moahaba. But you aren't one of them, are you?" he questioned, removing his gloves as he turned to look at him. His eyes were dark, judgmental, and unfriendly in the way they drifted across his own. Despite not being as tall or physically as large as the other guards, his was no less intimidating, exuding a murderous aura, as he waited for an answer.
Hutch found it difficult to speak. There was an invisible weight pressing down upon his chest and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His jaw shook, his mouth dried, and his brain froze, "I… I…" was all he managed to spit out as the bannerman set his hand upon the hilt of his sword.
Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes, and swallowed before taking a breath, to give his mind a moment to start functioning, when one of the other guards approached saying, "Cascel, is there a problem?" while moving his hand onto the hilt of his sword as well.
"My saddle needs repairing, again. Let's hope the Moahaba have a superior leatherworker to the Drimek," he replied, turning to the guard, who was as tall as Ghan'dono and twice as wide in the shoulders. "As for the boy, his name is Hutch. I've commandeered his aid, for the time being."
"I see. I'll let the others know."
"Any idea what the holdup is, Barhalis?"
"Logistics. It's a tight fit for the wagon. Zangeth is on it though. Shouldn't be too much longer."
"Hutch, is there another way for us to get back to your tribes' pasture and stables?" Cascel questioned, looking at him from the corner of his eyes.
"Yes," he replied, his voice squeaking in an odd manner, causing him to swallow back once more in a desperate attempt to alleviate his discomfort, before trying again. "I mean, yes. Yes, sir. It's that way," he said with more clarity and confidence as he motioned over his shoulder.
Cascel gave a subtle nod to Barhalis, who then turned and lifted his arm as he whistled motioning to the guards who looked in his direction by closing his fist and moving it down towards the top of his head twice before lowering his arm.
"Well, now that that is settled," Cascel remarked as he moved to the front of his eranth and took hold of his reins, "I hope you can lead the way, better than you can give a proper answer."