A funeral and a coronation all in the space of a week that had supposed to be filled with the preparations for a wedding. The streets were filled with the cries of mourners over a man who had ruled their land for longer than most of them had been alive and the laughter and cheering of a people who had been given a young and vital new king. It was peculiar week, full of contradictions and emotional upheaval. Yoko bore it all with a sort of dazed efficiency. She did the things she had to do, attended the functions she was expected to attend and marveled at the effectiveness of a bureaucracy that chugged along with undeterred stubbornness despite all the upheaval.
Prince Larz was crowned king the day after his father was laid to rest in the royal crypt deep under the palace. The Coronation took place in the great throne room of Meta-Rikan palace under the eyes of every noble lord that could be squeezed into the hall. The Prophet, Angelo performed the ceremony. She thought absently, standing crowded in among the well-dressed well-bred aristocracy, that not more than two years ago her father would have been asked to do the honors. Angelo had risen that far, in that short a time.
Gara was there for the ceremony. Arshes and Kall were not. No one but Yoko and Gara noted their absence. Arshes she understood, but Kall had been unusually anti-social for the last few days. There was nothing to do about it. She had too many other concerns confronting her. The wedding was three days hence. She had heard rumors that Sheela had wished it postponed longer, but her advisors had convinced her to go through with it as planned. She had also heard that Sheela had been crying a great deal since her father's death, locked in her rooms so that no one might intrude. But maids tended to know everything and they talked.
She crowded out with the rest when it was finally over, stiff neck and sore feet from several hours of speeches and formality. There was a open buffet that spread through two halls, the numbers of guests being too large for a formal dinner. There was to be a coronation ball later in the night. She picked at the food and watched the faces of the men and women around her. So many of the wealthy and the powerful gathered in one place. So very many of them had taken to wearing symbols of the High God at their throats; the new fashion to announce one's piety.
"That was a torture I'd not willingly endure again." Gara came up beside her, hands full with plate and glass. "What a bunch of windbags."
"Shsss." She smiled past her own glass at him. "Not so loud, some of those windbags are lurking in the vicinity."
"Humph. Looks like Arshes and Kall had the right notion."
"They both need to show their faces," she said. "Every other lord of the realm is here. They both hold lands and they both need to be recognized by all the other powers that be."
"You doubt they are? None of us are welcomed into the cozy little circles of the rich and powerful, but believe me, they never forget us."
"No, but they can't be allowed to overlook you either. They both have says in the decisions the regency makes."
"Oh, little Yoko, you've grown so political in your dotage."
"Well, I live in a palace, you big ape. I can't help it. Why don't you go find Arshes and drag her to the coronation ball this evening? She needs to dance -- to have some fun, even if it kills her."
"Or me most likely, for making her do it." Gara snorted. He stuffed a sweetmeat into his mouth. "You going to go after the Ice Lord?"
"I think I can convince him to make an appearance. Or I can beg and plead and pretend to cry. That always works with men."
"Hummm, maybe I should try it with Arshes."
Yoko giggled at the thought. "Well, even if she won't dance with you, I'll put you down in my book."
Gara nodded solemnly. "I'll hold you to that, little girl."
Arshes wasn't dancing. Gara stood not far from her, glumly milking his umpteenth glass of the very expensive wine brought out for this special occasion. If Yoko thought she could have gotten away with it, she would have gone over to the Thunder Empress and attempted to cajole her into attempting to enjoy herself. She had been on the receiving end of Arshes Nei's cold looks too often to wish to provoke one now in the midst of such festivities. At least Gara had gotten her here. It was a start.
Yoko had not danced yet herself. Kall-Su kept potential partners away with the distant, imperious look on his face. His eyes were colder than the northern tundra's. One might have thought these people were still his enemies from the way he held his body and the tightness of his lips. After cajoling and pleading for him to attend, she could not bring herself to leave him. If she had, she felt certain he would, in short order, have drifted silently away, leaving all the ordinary mortals to while away the night.
The dance floor was filled with gracefully revolving couples. The lilting music of a waltz flowed through the halls. She saw the new king dancing with the sister of neighboring king. Prince Haden and Princess Sheela shared a slow dance before the princess begged off and retreated to the sidelines to be surrounded by her own sympathetic court of ladies.
"So, how are things in your lands?" She asked Kall for lack of anything better to say or do. He half glanced at her, before his eyes flickered back out to drift among the guests. "Did this year bring good harvests?"
"As well as any."
"Oh. So no one will starve this winter in the north?"
He looked back at her as if she had asked some monumentally stupid question. "People always starve in the North. It is a harsh land with little fertile ground for planting and a short warm season to do it in."
"Oh. Oh. What do you do then, if your villages don't have stores for winter?"
"The ones that recognize their province lords -- the ones that aren't nomadic, can buy grain or trade for it from their lords."
"You have villages in the north that don't owe fealty to you?"
"The cold North is not so civilized as the warm lands of the South, Yoko. There are people and things that live in the Winter Mountains and the Tundra that know no master. And honestly it isn't worth the effort to force allegiance of them. They trade with those that are under province rule -- so there is benefit to both."
"It sounds brutal. I have to admit, I'm happy to live in Meta-Rikan, where winter is not so terrible a thing. Its full winter there already, isn't it?"
"It is."
"You must be glad to take a foray to warmer climates to get away from it."
He lifted an elegantly crafted brow at her. "Lady, you forget my reputation. I am the High King of Ice. It holds no secrets nor terror for me."
"Ah -- well, yes, I suppose so. But still -- don't you get cold?"
He almost laughed then. A quick flash of a smile that one so rarely saw from him. "You are determined to reach the heart of the matter, are you not? Yes, it's cold. One just learns to tolerate it."
"Do you want to dance? I really want to dance."
"I don't --"
"Please, Kall-Su. This is such a wonderful tune. Just one. Maybe if Arshes sees you doing it, Gara can talk her onto the floor."
"I would prefer not."
"But you'll humor me anyway -- please?" She blinked up at him yearningly with her most potent helpless female stare.
"If you insist." Grudgingly he took her arm.
It was a lovely mid-range waltz, simple and graceful in the flow
of couples about the dance floor. For all his reluctance to engage in
the practice, Kall-Su was a competent partner. As if he would blunder
about at anything. He guided her about the floor, true to the pattern
the other dancers wove and she let herself be lost in the rhythm and
the enchantment of the motion. Eyes followed them. Watching the man
that was in the running for being the most powerful wizard alive and
the young woman who had been the beloved of the most powerful, when
he was alive, perform the simple joy of dancing. At that moment she
reveled in
The waltz ended. He stepped back from her, inclining his head with the perfect grace of a gentleman thanking a lady for the honor a dance. He extended his arm to lead her from the floor.
"Lady Yoko." Someone hailed her through the crowd. A man in the white and gray tunic uniform of the Basilica Guard slipped through the dispersing dancers towards her. He wore the silver symbol of the High God on a chain about his neck. He was tall and thick about the shoulders and legs. A man of rugged features and short, spiky hair. The captain of Angelo's Basilica guards, the holy guardians of the temple and the Prophet himself. The most unusual thing about Captain Sinakah was his eyes. Pale green orbs with tiny black iris that never seemed to dilate. Angelo said it was because the Captain had been present once when the High God had spoken to the Prophet and his eyes were forever more fixed as they had been when he had seen the true light of the All Mighty. Nevertheless, it made Yoko nervous to look him in the eye.
Yoko and Kall turned, waiting for the man to reach them. He bowed his head slightly at one or both of them, his expression fixed into neutrality.
"My lady, My lord. His Holiness, the Prophet has requested that you introduce the Lord Kall-Su to him."
"Oh, well, all right." Even as she reflexively agreed, she felt Kall's fingers tighten on her arm. She glanced up at him, but his face was unreadable, his eyes shuttered by a thick veil of lashes. "Kall?"
But Captain Sinakah was ushering them through the reforming dancers. The strains of a new tune melted into the air. There was a platform where the highest of the nobility might sit in comfort and overlook the ball. Larz sat there, talking with Sheela and Prince Haden. At the edge of the platform a cluster of holymen and nobles played court to the Prophet, who was speaking animatedly, moving his arms and hand expressively as he usually did during sermon. Angelo saw them coming and broke off from his rhetoric. He stepped towards them in welcome, holding out his hands to them.
"Ah, lady Yoko, how beautiful you look this night."
"Thank you, your holiness."
"And this must be Lord Kall-Su, whom I've heard so very much about."
Kall did not inclined his head or indeed do more than stare at Angelo as if the prophet were a blank wall and held as much interest for him.
"Umm, yes. High King of the north. This is him." Yoko blundered nervously, her arm going quite numb from the grip Kall had on it.
"Ah, is not the correct title, High King of Ice?"
Yoko nodded.
"How do the barbaric people of the north call you, Lord Kall-Su? What honorific do you bear there?"
For a moment Kall didn't answer, then his fingers loosened on her arm and he disengaged. Unobtrusively she folded the member to her, rubbing the place his fingers had gripped.
"It would depend on whether they are enemies of mine or not."
"Ah, your enemies feeling the might of your sorcerous powers." Angelo smiled charmingly at him.
"If it is so warranted."
"How fairs the fellowship of God, in the cold north, Lord Kall-Su? Are the pious welcome in your lands?"
"They are as welcome as they are in any land. They come as they please -- if they've the stamina to survive the winters."
"Ah -- the truly righteous man can endure all manner of afflictions to spread the workings of God. Is there a temple to the gods within your own city, my lord? What faith do you practice?"
The gathered clergy and nobles behind Angelo stared expectantly, waiting for the answer. Yoko blanched and tried to hide it, wondering what had caused such interest in Kall from Angelo. The Prophet was on the hunt for something, even though she sensed no particular harmful intent from his probings. She never sensed anything but benevolent causes from the Prophet.
"I practice no faith and worship no god." Kall-Su said bluntly. "But any who serve me may worship as they will."
Angelo nodded as if that answered some question he'd had in mind. "I understand. Being cursed with the dark magics -- no faith would have you. How unfortunate for you never to have been allowed the patronage of a god."
Kall's lashes flickered. He drew half a breath in offense or surprise, she could not tell. Angelo face melted into lines of sympathy and he reached out as if to bless one of his faithful with his touch. Kall drew back, a step so sharp that he surprised himself from the quick flash of dismay in his eyes. Angelo's own brown eyes widened, then he sighed as if saddened. "The High God will always welcome those who are truly repentant. He even has forgiveness for those cursed from birth with the stench of the Demon."
"I shall keep that in mind." Kall inclined his head. "But, if you will excuse me." He left no room for argument, turning on his heel and marching away, not bothering with the circumspect route around the dance floor, but plowing through the dancers as if they were not there. Yoko stared after him in anxiety.
"Poor boy." Angelo said, placing a hand on her shoulder. The familiarity startled her. But good manners did not allow her to shrug out from under his touch. "Are the rumors true that he is common born? Cast from his birthplace when the nature of his dark magics began to make themselves known?"
She wanted to go after Kall. She wanted to berate the Prophet for his condemnation. Of course she dared not.
"I've heard such, your grace." She murmured. "You would have to ask him for the truth of the matter."
"I think I can guess, he being what he is."
"He's a good man, even if he doesn't worship the gods."
"And you my dear, are a naive, sweet girl. With age, you will come to more fully understand the nature of men."
Perhaps he was right. She could not comprehend what the Prophet had been about. The whole conversation had tasted of accusation and censure. It had bordered on attack almost.
"Please excuse me, your grace." She pleaded softly.
The fingers brushed her shoulder, shifted her hair, then retreated. "Of course, my child."
She did not look back at him. Kall-Su was no where in sight. She skirted the edges of the crowd, looking frantically for him.
"What happened?" Arshes Nei appeared beside her.
"I don't know." Yoko complained. "I really wish I did. The Prophet just finished insulting Kall -- I don't think I can call it by any other name. And it was like-- like Kall knew it was coming, before Angelo even opened his mouth."
Arshes frowned, scanning the crowd from her slightly taller vantage. "He's not here."
"I know."
"I'll go find him. It's a boring party anyway."
She stalked off. Yoko sniffed, thinking that it wouldn't have been if the half elf had danced at all.
"I'm leaving."
Arshes moved to block Kall's path from window to door, hands on hips, brown eyes narrowed in speculation.
"Why?"
"I find it unbearably contrived here. I yearn for the more honest face of the north."
"You're lying."
Kall glared at her, offended. If she had not been dressed in a clinging gown of creme that fell off her shoulders and dipped to reveal the lovely curve of her golden brown back, he might have issued a challenge. He could not quite bring himself to do it to a woman in a ball dress. He narrowed his eyes instead and stalked around her.
"What do you care, Arshes? You've not shown a spark of interest in anything else here. I'm surprised you bothered to come at all."
"Don't try to divert me, Kall-Su. I'm not at question here, you are. You're angry, I can see it in your eyes and you're never so careless as to let your anger show. And there's something else that I can't quite place. What did that damned holy man say to you to upset you so?"
"Nothing. Ask Yoko if you're so curious. It was her that set you on me, was it not? Why cannot women help from meddling in other's affairs? Have I meddled in yours? No, I leave that to Gara, who moons over you and who you ignore as you might the lowliest cur in the street. He always had more respect for you than Schneider did ---"
Her hand shot out and connected with his cheek. He expected it. He knew what to say to rise her ire. How to make her forget her concern for him.
"Don't you dare, Kall-Su. You and I will have more than words if you continue so."
"More than words about what?" Gara stood in the doorway, Yoko hovering behind him.
Arshes blushed, turning her eyes towards the fire.
"So you marshal them both, do you, Yoko?" Kall accused of her.
"You run off like the hounds of hell are on your heels and you wonder at concern?" Gara strode in, looking at the half packed chests. The servants gathering his things had been run off by Arshes when she'd stormed into his rooms. "Damn, Kall, since when you do retreat at the gibbering of some stiff necked priest?"
"I'm not in retreat. I just -- I just have the feeling that I'm needed at home."
He turned his back to the lot of them, facing the open balcony doors. The Prophet -- the face in his nightmare. He could not shake the terrible disquiet. None of that dream but the face and the flavor remained and still it terrified him. He thought about the word and decided that yes - terrify - was as apt a description as any for the uncontrollable emotions that ran just under the surface of conscious thought when he recalled the Prophet. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't stop it and he wanted out. There was no way he could stand another meeting, chance or not, with that man and not blast him from the face of the earth. And wouldn't that sit well with the newly constructed Regency of kingdoms.
And the three of them -- comrades -- friends -- didn't have a clue. And how demeaning to tell them that a simple nightscare had so unraveled him. He couldn't and he wouldn't explain. "I have yet," he said coldly. "Ever needed any of your consent for my actions."
"Kall, I'm sorry." Yoko cried. "If I had known he would be so awful -- he's never like that."
"It matters naught."
"Kall --"
Gara held out an arm to quiet her. "Fine. If you've got the urge to leave so badly, there's nothing any of us can do to stop you. If you don't want to tell us why -- that's fine too."
Kall glanced back at Gara, who was being unusually accommodating. When the Ninja Master did not add any further remark. Kall nodded once, grateful for the acquiescence.
"But," Gara finally added. "If you do, what with the little scene during the ball and all the eager little clergy and nobles who overheard -- it will make you seem the coward."
Kall-Su stiffened, expelling a gust of breath through flared nostrils. First Arshes Nei pushes him to the point of wishing violence on her, then Gara follows fashion. Two who were supposed to be his friends were most certainly provoking him this night. But, not nearly so much as the Prophet. No one in easy memory, save perhaps Schneider himself, had dared to utter such sibilantly debasing innuendo to Kall-Su's face. They whispered behind his back -- that he knew -- but none dared to so blatantly attack him openly. The Prophet must surely believe that some hand from heaven guarded him.
"Everyone will think you're too ashamed to face him again and if that's the case it must be because he's right. That's what people will say."
"I don't care a whit what people say."
"You damn sure seemed to care what he said."
"He offended me. I see no reason to stand blithely by when my honor is offended."
"No, I can't recall you ever doing such a thing." Gara nodded.
"What do you want of me?" Kall finally flung an arm out and waved it at the lot of them. Yoko's eyes were as big as moons. Arshes' were narrowed thoughtfully. Gara's scarred face managed to look innocent, even though Kall knew very well he was far from that.
"Just don't let them think they can ostracize us. Those of us with power not church ordained. Think about it, Kall -- these past years, what has the church of the High God been preaching to the people? Trust in the church. Trust in the power of the High god and forsake all other dark powers for they are the workings of demons or hell or whatever. Notice the hedge witches that used to sell poultices and wards and lovespells are gone. They used to hawk their wares on the street corners. Now, if they do still practice its behind closed doors because the people are buying into the Prophet's garbage. You think he didn't plan that little meeting? You think he didn't plan on singling out the most powerful practitioner of the 'dark power' and making a public scene? Think about it. Yoko, where have all the hedge witches gone?"
She stared at Gara, wide eyed, frightened over talk that had obviously never occurred to her. Over things that had happened under her nose without ever her notice. Yet Gara saw it after a years absence. Kall hadn't noticed it at all. He hadn't noticed anything but the temple and the crowded throngs of worshippers. He's right, that's what they're doing. Trying to drive one more stake into any power not church ordained. It explained that nonsense the Prophet had been asking him. It did not explain the dream. That he couldn't shake. Yet the practical part of him, the strategist in him could not rationally back down when a volley had been fired at him and his. If he just disappeared into the night word would get out -- would most assuredly get out -- that the Prophet had chased yet one more demon spawn from the midst of the faithful.
He was not willing yet, to let them have that victory. "All right. Till the wedding then."
The Princess Sheela looked beautiful, all done up in white silk and filmy gauze that trailed over her hip length black hair. Yoko walked behind her, along with five other maidens to take their places before the alter in the temple of the High God. The whole of the ceremony went without a visible hitch. The vows were exchanged, the blessing of the Prophet given. The newly wedded royal couple were hailed as man and wife. Yoko slipped away during the aftermath, when people were mulling about in preparation of retreating to the reception up the hill in the palace, when she saw Angelo homing in on her. Gara, Arshes and Kall were impossible to find in the commingling of people. She honestly didn't know whether Kall had lingered at all after the ceremony ended. For all she knew he might now be on his way out of Meta-Rikan.
Later, during the reception, hard-ridden and tired messengers came to the king with news from the mountainous border to the east that a ragged army of the beast-men had broken past defenses and even now razed settlements at the edge of the southern kingdoms. Larz made his first official appointment when he asked Gara, who had been patrolling the eastern mountains with his ninja's anyway, to take the mountainous lands formally as Lord Defender of the Eastern Range. Gara, who had never held title other than Ninja Master and never actually held lands of his own, having come to the conclusion that being responsible for a hungry people was not nearly as entertaining as fighting the battles for those that were; found himself at a loss. He told the king he would give the offer serious thought. Walked ten steps away and turned and accepted. Larz congratulated him. Gara shook his head wondering what he had gotten himself into.
The mountains of the east were sparsely populated, but there were villages and settlements deep in the woods. Foresters and hunters and gathers of woodland herbs and mushrooms found nowhere else.
He asked Arshes Nei if she would accompany him, to set matters straight. At first she declined, but Gara persuaded her with tales of the destitute and homeless mountain people -- children left orphaned after the half-men ravaged the villages -- that would need the help of someone strong. She agreed finally, with some small bit of determination back in her amber eyes. With a purpose she had lacked for some years now.
And Yoko -- Yoko settled back down after the excitement and prepared to face another year in Meta-Rikan. Another year of growth. Another year of watching the faithful congregate in a city three times it's original size. Another year of peace.