"Here, my lord," the senechal leads me into a feast hall. A large cyclopean table dominating the room. Banners of the vanquished enemies of the kingdom hanging as trophies from the rafters.
"Here, my lord," he repeats, "The king shall attend to you anon,"
"Anon? How long is 'anon' anyway?" I ask him. Perhaps it is my accent but he places a tray of wine on the table and leaves. I sit down at the first chair I see to await my interview with the king.