The Sacred Rituals
The waiter knelt slightly, met my eyes, and said, "Hi, I'm Brad, I'll be taking care of you tonight." In my country, when a man pledges to take care of you for an entire night, you have entered something serious. A bond. A debt. Possibly a war. So I rose and bowed. "I am honored to be your lord this evening, Brad." Brad said, "ha, you got it." It was sealed. I understood the arrangement at once. For one night, this man had sworn himself to my service, and I, in turn, was responsible for his honor. A lord who is careless with a loyal retainer is no lord at all. So I took my duties seriously. When Brad brought the water, I thanked him as a man thanks someone who has chosen his side. When he recommended the salmon, I ordered the salmon, instantly, without question, because to doubt your own retainer in public is to shame him. He told me to "enjoy." I told him his loyalty would not be forgotten. A lord must also know his people. So I asked Brad about his life. His studies. His mother. Whether his lodging was secure and his winters warm. Brad answered some of this. The rest he deflected with a small laugh, as a humble retainer should. Other diners called him over. I watched, calmly, as my retainer was pulled away to serve rival houses. I did not interfere. A great lord shares his finest men in times of peace. But I confess something turned in me. By the end, I did not want the night to close. I had only just learned to be worthy of him. When the meal ended, Brad set down a small leather folder and said, "no rush, whenever you're ready." No rush. As if a parting between a lord and his sworn man could be rushed. I left him everything I could. Not as payment. A lord does not pay his retainer. He provides for him. At the door, Brad called out, "have a good night, take care!" Take care. He was releasing me from service. Gently. So I would not feel the cut. I walked out into the cool night, a lord again with no one to protect, already missing a young man named Brad, who served one house for ninety minutes and will never know he had a lord at all. I do not know if I did it correctly. But Brad ate well tonight, in my heart, and that is all a lord can ask.
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