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Page 42<br />
Noel, like all men, got older. Like all men, he got slower. And one day, narrowly<br />
avoiding his own death, he realized he had grown too slow. He had raised his last blade in<br />
battle. Announcing there was no more land to conquer, no more honor to chase, Noel came<br />
home, and he brought his armies with him. They brought along the spoils of war. And for a<br />
time, his was a life of endless splendor.<br />
His court, so long silent in his absence, was filled with people, awash with activity and<br />
color, his signature vigil of crimson woven through it all. Noel sat in his place of honor,<br />
wrapped in heavy red robes, his sword and his scabbard always close at hand.<br />
His Royal Wives, all nine of them, reclined together, wrapped in the finest silks from<br />
the distant lands he had won with his massive armies, draped in the gold he had taken at<br />
such great cost. Each one represented a different royal agreement, a different dowry<br />
designed to make his own land stronger. They were all lovely, strong women, smart and<br />
cultured and companionable. Of them all, only one truly held his love and affection close.<br />
With a Nordic cold exterior and passion beyond measure, Greta was his one true wife, and<br />
the other wives all loved Noel more for his true and steady heart, willing to stand aside for<br />
such genuine love and reverence.<br />
Noel's Major Domo ran the court in his absence, and now that Noel was back, his job<br />
became coordinating the entertainment meant to occupy this now-sedentary man of action.<br />
Each night, he brought the court to order, then cued the guards to throw open the<br />
massive double doors at the end of the court, allowing a parade of entertainers, all hoping<br />
for the king's approval.<br />
Jugglers, tumblers, balancers, swordsmen, dancers, singers, clowns, fire eaters, freaks,<br />
and animal acts. One after another they performed, trying to elicit some response from the<br />
king.<br />
Noel sat bored by it all.<br />
He took some small pleasures, though. Each night, Noel watched a massive, broadframed<br />
man flirting with the pretty girls at the edge of the court, and he would smile,<br />
rooting for him in his pursuit. The young man, always dressed in armor so dark it almost<br />
seemed to pull light from the room, was at least two decades younger than Noel, and<br />
strikingly handsome, almost more beautiful than the women he approached each night.<br />
Noel had trouble believing that the same blood that produced him also produced Black<br />
Peter, but he was indeed Noel's younger brother, as well as his most trusted general.