Pandemonium broke out. The girls of the guard thumped their spears and yelled at the diners, telling them to return to their seats. Adrina's bodyguard formed a tight cordon about her and exchanged insults with their neighbours. Finally, the queen intervened. She picked up a wooden platter and banged it on the table.
'Order. Order.'
Silence descended on the hall.
Adrina's party gave up their defensive position. The diners sat down. Thunder left the dais and hurried over to Tom. He arrived at the place previously occupied by Red Hand and leant forward.
'Her Majesty has a request.'
Tom inclined his head.
'I would be honoured to oblige.'
Thunder preened the waxed ends of his moustache. 'You may have noticed that we no longer have a champion to carve the royal portion.'
'That had occurred to me,' Tom said. 'The fellow who successfully contested the challenge has decided to eat somewhere else.'
'That appears to be the case.' Thunder glanced towards the dais. 'So there's a hole in our proceedings. We'd like you to fill it before the food gets cold.'
Tom felt a twinge of apprehension.
'You'd like me to do what?'
'Issue a challenge. The royal escort will deliver another invitation. Her Majesty would like you to respond.'
Tom watched as a girl of the guard thumped her spear on the flagstones and called for another contender. He got up and was met by a wave of applause. His next problem was to invent a suitable outpouring of words. Having listened to Red Hand's pathetic attempt, it wasn't difficult.
'I, Sky Warrior, War Master of the Angli, contest the honour.' Faster than a swallow is my deadly spear. More deadly than a bolt of lightning is my burning arrow. Quicker than a barnyard cockerel is my long sword of the night.' The crowd went wild with excitement. Shouts ran through the hall and Tom wondered what he could do to round off his act. His attention strayed to the table. One of the boards didn't look as strong as the others. He was reminded of a party trick from his younger days. He'd done it many times and had never failed to win admiration. His hand rose and came down in a karate blow he'd not practised in years.
The board cleaved in two. The ends shot up and the diners roared their approval. Shields were rushed forward. Tom was hoisted onto them and carried to a pig on a spit. His wrist hurt and he wondered if he'd broken any bones. A carving knife was placed in his hand. He grasped it and did his best to carve the royal portion.