Good morning all. Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it. Not sure why I feel it, but I do. so I am just going to run with the feeling. Mornings are not usually my most optimistic time of day, but I still have a good feeling about this one. So let’s kick it off with a morning prompt and see if my feeling holds true. So pens or keyboards at the ready, and let those timers fly.
I liked this. There is so much to play with when cultures collide and this looks like it could be an interesting set up. I just need to figure out where they are and the purpose of the visit. I also need to figure out if everyone is as none war like as George. But this could be fun to play with.
Wednesday, August 31st: There were platters of flatbread and the air was redolent with spices.
There were platters of flatbread and the air was redolent with spices. He stood at the edge of the gathering space and inhaled deeply. The scent was like heaven. For so long now he traveled with those who considered salt the only spice worth noting. And even that they used in minute portions. Their food was bland, tasteless and often boiled to the point of mush.
It was meant to keep a person alive, not fill them with pleasure.
He smiled at the smells and allowed himself to be drawn into the circle. His hosts noted his smile and returned it. He was offered a seat near the family. It wasn’t at the high table, he was not important enough for that. He would not share table space with their leaders. He was at the secondary table with their lord’s oldest sons.
There were five sons in all and all in their twenties if George’s mental gauge was well. As an official successor had not been chosen from among them, they all shared equal status. George found it interesting that the choice was made based on merit rather than birth order. In fact, he had been told that while the Lord’s sons enjoyed a privileged position based on their father, there was even the possibility that none of them would be chosen as his successor should another be deemed more worthy.
Such weighty concerns as succession seemed far from everyone’s mind as George took his place. Glancing up at the head table, George was happy with his lot. The young men around him were curious and chatty, asking him questions and answering his own. Careful not to look as though he was asking about anything military or political, George kept his questions about the meal. As he was one of the few of his party who was enjoying the spiced dishes brought out in a long succession, he was asked many questions.
It was an interesting experience. Growing up the food of his people bore a great similarity to the foods and style of eating as these people here. When he was sent off to school, he had to leave that behind and found himself missing it.
While training his mind he trained his body to accept the food it was offered and even to enjoy the subtlety of some of his favorites among them. Training his body into the stiff formality that his new home preferred had been harder and here, where the atmosphere was more relaxed, he felt that slipping away. The Morata formality sliding away like a cracked shell and more of his Dovena background peeking through.
The others of his party were not having as easy a time of it though and he found a few puzzled glances sent his way and suspected he would need to answer more questions after the meal was through and they returned to the chambers they had been granted during their stay. George dismissed such thoughts for later. Mixed in with his conversations about the meal and his different background, George asked about some of the things he had seen, keeping things light and in the realm of social. He did not want to be viewed as an enemy but he did want his team to find him useful. It was an interesting line to walk.
Ten til Midnight 