Summary Of The Handmaid's Tale Chapter 1

Ralan and Alard arrived at Merchant Tower forty-five minutes after they left the parade float. They were both in their dress robes walking briskly to the door to the banquet hall when Ralan stopped suddenly. He looked up at Alard. “How do I look?”
“Like a Guildmaster.”
Ralan smiled. “And how do I smell?”
There was a pause and then Alard replied, “Better than you did earlier.”
“Good enough.”
Alard entered first. A knight moved to block their access to the banquet hall. Alard stopped and swiped his robe behind his scabbard, revealing a mammoth broadsword. “You can either move aside for the Guildmaster Thief or we will step over your body. In either case we will enter the banquet hall and the Guildmaster will join the meeting.”
The knight slowly
“Just because he chose not to attend the banquet does not mean that he wouldn’t have been welcome or that his peers would not have recognized him.” Alard glanced back at the Guildmasters milling about. Ralan marveled at how Alard was able to evoke the beloved Pietro to establish respect for the guild and Ralan himself.
Saxe, the portly Guildmaster Knight, walked over. “You’re a fine one to discuss disrespect, you coward.” He pointed at Alard with a finger extended from a wine goblet, which spilled as he waved his hand while he talked. “But you live with that shame all year long as you scurry around in your black.” He turned to Larsen. “Let the pathetic boy and his lackey enjoy the banquet, Larsen.” He took a drink from his goblet. “It’s one day in the year. We’ll go back to abusing them tomorrow!” He laughed and turned back to the other guildmasters.
Larsen walked down the stairs and stood next to Ralan. He stopped so close that their toes nearly touched. He leaned forward and whispered through gritted teeth. “I know it was your friend Raef in here earlier. Look around. You can see the damage he did. Are you happy? You’ve had your fun. Now leave me be for another
“That’s where the true Guildmasters belong.”
“I’m just the Guildmaster Thief, Percy. We’re not exactly a guild.” Ralan stabbed some greens the moment the bowl was placed in front of him. He was famished.
“Not true, sir. Not true at all. Look around.” Percy used his fork to point to the various guildmasters in the room. “How many of these folks have deputies standing behind them?”
It was true. The four guildmasters on the dais each had a deputy standing at attention behind them. The only other person with a deputy was Ralan, with Alard standing behind him.
Percy continued, “Besides, you’ve seen the thieving statue in Founders Park. Only the founding guilds have statues in Founder’s Park.”
Ralan lowered his fork. Was this true? Were the thieves one of the founding guilds? He had never studied history and found the idea absurd. He turned to Alard. “Is this true?”
“Yes. The Thieves Guild is actually the third oldest guild in Ness, although why that is so is lost to history. Still, I don’t recommend you marching up and demanding to sit between your brother and Guildmaster Saxe if that’s what you were