'Her Majesty is about to arrive,' Griffin whispered.
The guard parted and the old woman entered. Tom saw her walk with slow arthritic steps onto the dais. A pig on a spit roasted there. She hobbled towards it. The agony of every movement was evident on her face. Tom watched with growing admiration. There was something about the old woman that appealed to him. She was a battler. The sort who wouldn't give up. She turned to the assembled diners who immediately fell silent.
'Who claims the right to carve the royal portion?'
She asked in a tired voice. Tom guessed it was part of a ritual that accompanied every dinner in the Great Hall. The red man beside him staggered to his feet.
'I claim that right as is my custom, Majesty.'
He threw out his arms and launched forth.
'Faster than a bolt of lightning is my flying spear. Terrible my swift sharp sword ...' He kept going but no one took any notice. The diners started to talk amongst themselves. Tom wasn't surprised. The performance was boring in the extreme. He guessed he was witnessing an ancient right that had lost its significance. His attention turned to Adrina and they were exchanging glances when a young man entered the hall and began to crow like a cockerel.
Griffin turned to Tom. 'That's Fire Tongue of Gorm. He is a companion of the princess.'
All eyes turned to Fire Tongue as he pranced down the aisle.
'Small sword of the night.' He reached Red Hand and jumped onto the table.
'Strong in words and weak in action.' He tweaked the red man's nose.
'How dare you?'
Red Hand looked as if he was about to explode.
Fire Tongue leant forward.
'I, Fire Tongue of Gorm, challenge you, Red Bum of the Catti, for the right to carve the royal portion.'
Red Hand puffed out his chest.
'Leave now or your head will adorn my collection.'
'Your what?'
'Do you not know that I am Head Master of the Catti?'
'Head Master. You couldn't cut the head off a mouse …'
The queen watched from the dais. Tom saw the stony expression on her face and guessed she was not amused. He glanced across to Adrina's table. The princess was surrounded by her bodyguard of young men. Their attention was on the diners. Hers was on Fire Tongue. Her dark eyes flashed as he rolled out the insults.
'Red Bum. Red Balls ...'
The diners rose from their benches and pointed at Red Hand.
'Go on. Take off his head ... that's what you're paid for.'