Post by wordy on Jul 7, 2010 8:30:45 GMT 10
A Day in the Life of a Prime Minister
by wordy
A lot of people would call me crazy for wanting to follow around Sir Gary of Naxen for a day. For many pages and squires, the prospect of serving under a desk knight—or worse, becoming a desk knight!—is truly terrifying. But there is much more to Gary of Naxen than his being a desk knight. There is more to him than his dashing good looks. In fact, there is even more to him than his excellent mustache. I am referring to, of course, his role as Prime Minister of Tortall.
Being Prime Minister is a busy job. It is such a busy job that Gary forgot I was to be tailing him today. As a result, I ended up pacing back and forth outside his rooms for a few hours before a passing servant told me that Gary had actually already left. Bugger.
Eventually I tracked him down. He was in a meeting with the Chancellor of the Treasury when I burst in, flustered and red in the face. Gary, on the other hand, looked dashing as usual: his hair and mustache were a striking chestnut colour, his eyes slightly darker (the kind of eyes that are often full of mischief, if my research about his younger years is correct), and his broad shoulders filled out his Naxen-blue tunic perfectly. I stammered out who I was and a look of realisation seemed to cross his face, followed quickly by embarrassment. “You completely slipped my mind, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “I’ve had a busy morning.”
And the day was only going to get busier, it seemed. I took a seat in the corner, to the displeasure of the Chancellor of the Treasury, if his expression was anything to go by; I gathered from the way the man was constantly sneaking looks at that prime example of mustached perfection that he had been expecting a more private meeting with Gary. It was difficult to follow what they were discussing, since I have little knowledge of the current economic situation in Tortall, but Gary seemed to know what he was doing. After an hour or so had passed they seemed to have reached some kind of agreement that involved Gary passing some information on to the king and queen. The Chancellor left, and I found myself alone (at last!) with Gary.
Imagine him throwing down his papers, closing the distance between us in one stride, and sweeping me into his strong arms.
That didn’t happen. Gary is a happily married man, and a father, I’ll remind you. Unfortunately my dreams of unrestrained passion in the arms of the Prime Minister had to stay that way. Dreams.
He did throw his papers on the carpet, though. Then he yawned and rubbed his face. For a moment I wondered if he had forgotten that I was there. But then he sprung out of his chair and grabbed his papers. “No time to dawdle,” he said as he shuffled them into order. “We have more people to see. Free time is an illusion, around here.” He gave me a wink.
Before my brain could regain the ability to comprehend the fact that Gary of Naxen and I were now ‘we’, I was following him out the door and down a corridor. We went deeper and deeper into the palace until I had no idea what wing we were even in anymore, with Gary walking at such a brisk pace that I had to trot to keep up. After what seemed like an age, we arrived at a door. I followed Gary inside...
...and a dozen pairs of eyes turned to stare at me. Gary walked to the head of the table and took a seat, leaving me in plain view of whoever these people were, so I quickly scampered into a corner and stood there trying to look inconspicuous. Luckily, when Gary began talking everyone turned their attention away from me. I sank down in my corner, taking the chance to have a proper look around the room and at the people who were in it. It was some kind of meeting. Paying closer attention to the people and what they were wearing, an idea began to grow in my mind. This must be the Council of Nobles! I thought excitedly.
In addition to the monarchs, Tortall is run by a number of different councils. As Prime Minister, Gary also acted as the chairperson of some of these councils, including the Council of Nobles, the king’s private council, and the Grand Council. His role was to mediate at meetings and ensure that whichever laws or issues were being reviewed or discussed were all addressed properly. To witness such an important meeting was incredible!
Holding back my excitement, I looked around the room again. I didn’t recognise some of the people in attendance, but others—like Duke Baird of Queenscove—were easier to pick out. I tried to pay attention to what they were discussing, but even in the presence of such important people my mind began to wander. Once, in between my musings about lunch, I looked up to see Gary stroking his mustache as he listened to someone speak. I couldn’t help but smile.
When the meeting was finally over, I met Gary at the door. He must have heard my stomach grumbling, because he looked at me with a frown before glancing down the corridor. “I haven’t got time to stop for lunch,” he said. “But you can run and get something from the kitchens if you like, and meet me in the library. I should be there for the next hour or two.” I asked him if he wanted me to bring him anything, but he shook his head. As I walked in what I hoped was the direction to the kitchens, I wondered how he ever had time to eat; it wasn’t even midday yet, and he had been constantly in a meeting or on the way to one since the moment I had met him this morning.
After a few wrong turns, I finally found the kitchens. There were people everywhere, cooking or chopping or cleaning or doing I don’t know what. Was everyone in the palace always so busy? I wondered. One of the servants soon spotted me. She seemed eager to load me down with food and get me out of the way, so I headed out the nearest door with my arms loaded full of bread and fruit. The sun was high in the sky and it was a warm day, something I hadn’t noticed in the damp corridors of the palace. Figuring that Gary wouldn’t miss me for a while (if he did at all, that is: after forgetting me once this morning, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had forgotten me again already) I walked across the grass and sat myself down on the ground. A few fields across, it looked like a group of pages were out riding. I watched them as I ate my lunch. What would it be like to be a page, or a squire? I wondered idly. From what I had heard, most of the boys—or girls—who entered page training loathed the idea of being squire to a desk knight. But being Gary’s squire didn’t seem like it would be so bad.
Eventually I had to pick myself up and head back into the palace. Even if Gary had forgotten me again, I couldn’t just ignore what I had set out to do. The day was not over yet.
The library was huge. Rows upon rows of books. Just when I thought I had seen the last row, I turned a corner and there was a whole other room of them. I found Gary with some books and papers spread out on a table in front of him, his forehead creased in concentration as he turned a page. He looked up when I sat down but didn’t speak. Taking the hint, I sat quietly and admired him from up close. That was really a brilliant mustache. Though the way his hair flopped over his forehead was quite endearing too. When I thought my stares were perhaps becoming a bit too creepy I turned my attention to what he was working on. From what I could figure out from his scrawled notes and the books on the table, he was researching something to do with agriculture and its impact on trade for the last few years. So these must be records of some sort, I thought, turning to look at the books that surrounded us. Interesting.
Okay, I didn’t find it that interesting. If I just had something to do, instead of sitting around like a lump!
Of course, the moment I thought that, Gary looked up from something he was scribbling and asked me to deliver it for him. I looked at the name written on the outside of the note. Gary said he was in the east wing. So off I went.
Walking along the corridor, I smiled. It was fun, getting to see what the Prime Minister had to do all day. Though I’ll admit it got a little bit boring at times. But still, I couldn’t help but wonder...was I too old to start page training? Because it seemed like Gary could use a squire.