The next morning dozens of pages, squires, and aides were attempting to organise the departure of the king and his retinue. Among them was Albert, manservant to a minor noble whom, when not forgotten, was dutifully ignored. Albert, in observing his many cohorts bustle about, was struck by how much energy was being spent. There was no precedent for such frenzied activity in the marble halls, at least not for the last twenty years that he had worked in the building. He was speaking to the Chancellor’s aide, who was often the most useful in matters of royal logistics. “Can m’Lord, receive instructions as to where in the procession his carriage will be located?”
“No, indeed he cannot have that information.”
“And why, sir, may he not?”
“Aahhh, well there is no known ordination of carriages at this juncture, and so I cannot inform you as to where to put said carriage.”
“Indeed... might you hazard a suggestion?”
“I suppose that I shall at that. Your lord may follow Lady Hillary, which I believe will put you forth in the line.”
“Are you certain sir? That accords my lord far too high a standing.”
“Yes, I am certain. That is precisely where you should position your carriage. Now be gone, the Chancellor will be upset that I have achieved anything whatever towards this morning’s departure.”
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