Kyou Kara Maou : The Trouble With Trolls
Summary: Wolfram's attempt to bypass Maou Wedding Curse with a small family ceremony, backfires when an uninvited relative arrives - the Troll Mother.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.
Chapter 11 : A Midsummer Night
The sun set blood-red over the Donza River, packed with spectator barges and pleasure-craft, as the crowd jostled for a good view on the riverside von Bielenfeld Fairgrounds. This midsummer's eve would at last see the ceremony to swear in Lord Erick von Trondheim to the ruling Eleven Aristocrats of Shin Makoku. Aldrich – whose dramatic flair owed much to the influence of his nutcase elder nephew Wolfred – had set the date and format.
Cheri graced Manfred's arm as they headed for the Lord's review line in the deepening dusk. With an impish smile, she tugged on his formal Bielenfeld Blues. "So when do I get to see sprouts?"
"Sshh, woman! This isn't the place for a conversation like that. They haven't even told Yuuri and me that they can yet. We don't know, remember? Give them time. It's been a madhouse." Indeed, Castle Bielenfeld, hosting the Mazoku pan-racial conference, had been a packed zoo for nearly two months. "Now get with the program. Be a good girl, show off your cleavage, and smile for the common people." He caused more than a few gawking collisions with his demonic green-eyed winks himself. He was an equal opportunity flirter – he gave appreciative glances to all the women, and frankly reciprocated any gazes of interest from men as well.
Cheri obligingly applied herself to causing pedestrian traffic accidents with smile and cleavage, then tugged on him again. "Oh, but it's so hard to wait! Aldrich has been comfortable, with me staying here sometimes? He won't be mad, me coming out with you tonight?"
"Yes, yes, it's fine, you've been lovely, I'm sure you'll get to see sprouts. And Aldrich's every bit as curious as I am how you're keeping that dress up over your nipples. Good color choice for the dark, love, you're causing ten man pile-ups."
"You've pulled my dresses off enough times – surely you've figured it out. That collision was yours, Manfred." Manfred glanced back over his shoulder to give a special demonic smile to the afflicted young man, who was still gaping. "Oh, I do so love working a crowd with you, Manfred." The two of them shared an evil green-eyed smile of perfect understanding.
"I did warn you there would be dancing tonight, yes?" Manfred eyed her dress' bodice, cut down to there, with cutout beneath nearly from pubic bone to solar plexus, and a cutout back as well. No, he hadn't figured out how this dress stayed up at all.
"Mm, I'm counting on it," replied Cheri. "I picked this dress out specially. You'd be surprised how many men think like you do."
"No, I wouldn't. I'd guess all who can get it up, half who can't any more, and half the boys who haven't yet." Manfred peered at the lower end of her cut out back. Nice view. No further clues. Cecilie enjoyed the attention, though. Aldrich just might be curious enough to send me to her bed tonight to find out… Nah, too possessive – he'd rather theorize with me safely tucked in his arms. That'd be fun…
"I keep picturing you as a sprout…"
"Woman, not here! Now what's it going to be, grace my arm in silence in the front-row seats, or do I leave you down in the madding crowd?"
Cheri zipped her lips and matched his leer. And craning her neck all around, promptly forgot her promise. "But where is Aldrich? Surely he wouldn't be late."
Manfred pointed to a crowd of men in von Trondheim brown and scarlet. Given their massive physiques, Aldrich could well be hidden among them. Manfred said, "He's dressed to honor his mother tonight. He can't represent Bielenfeld dressed as Trondheim, so I'm standing in for him among the Lords. With you if you're good." He drew close to her ear to whisper, "Now, as we pass Lord and Lady von Krist, let's see which of us can get a wink, shall we?"
"It's a draw," Cheri called the contest after they passed the winking Krists into the Bielenfeld position in the review line with Friedrich and Dietrich and Efram. "Ah, we haven't lost our touch!" They grinned at each other as Yuuri took the podium. Manfred let go of her to rest his hands on Dietrich's shoulders instead. The boy was staring nervously at his grandmother Alana von Trondheim and Troll Mother, who had… thrones, really… at the center of the dais. Any chairs large enough for them looked like thrones.
"Citizens, Lords and Ladies, friends," began Yuuri over the majustsu-enabled loudspeakers. Bielenfeld's sound system carried his voice clearly even to the barges on the Donza. "Normally, accepting a new Lord into the Eleven, we have a swearing-in ceremony at Blood Pledge Castle, with a military review of the Lord's armed forces. That is clearly not in keeping with the spirit of this conference. Many among you may have wondered, given the threat of war barely averted, with dragons still occupying our cities and castles, patrolling our more troubled borders, whether even accepting Erick von Trondheim into the Eleven, was appropriate.
"But of all the domains of Shin Makoku, Trondheim most embodies what the Bielenfeld Dragon Conference is about. Of all domains, Trondheim gives refuge to the most dwindling Mazoku races, has laws most comprehensive in arbitrating the conflicts of interest among them. In the seven weeks of this conference, none among the Eleven have provided more insight, more examples, more concrete proposals than Erick von Trondheim and his colleagues. We have taken our time, gotten to know each other. Trust has grown. And today, he has been unanimously approved by the Lords and myself. Please join me in applauding – Erick, Lord Trondheim!"
The applause from the largely Bielenfeld crowd was politely lukewarm, simply grateful for the extraordinary party. But applause from all of the Lords' groups on the review platform, and from Aldrich and the Trondheims arrayed before the dais, was sincere and thunderous.
"Someone should tell that poor boy to stop wearing sunglasses," Cheri murmured to Manfred, referring to Erick. "It's easier to trust a man when you can see his eyes."
"Aldrich and Brendan thought the same," Manfred replied. "They tried contacts and things. But he just can't see well without them. Finally Conrad put his foot down, and said Erick couldn't build trust by pretense. If Erick really needed glasses, he should wear them and be himself, without apology."
"Oh! Mm, that does make sense. Good for Conrad!"
Manfred nodded. "It made a big difference. After that, Erick stopped being so stiff, and we got to know the real man. He's quite the character, and really sharp. Went from being the embarrassment of the coalition, to a star player at the conference, in nothing flat. Conrad's grown into a perceptive man. Doesn't talk much, but when he does, people learn to listen. I think Aldrich and Brendan took it to heart as well. They quit feeling awkward about their trollness and went back to being themselves."
Cheri looked at the jaunty sunglasses in a new light. "Do you think he's ready to rule Trondheim?"
Manfred shrugged. "I imagine Alana does that – it's a matriarchy, love. Erick's Alana is like Yuuri's Gwendal. Actually, Gwendal's been coming around a lot for family dinners, too, and joining in Lord's Lesson afterwards. Erick had his father a lot longer than Gwendal did. It was tough for Gwendal."
Cheri nodded sadly, and sighed. "Would that we'd had his father longer. I hope Gwendal hasn't been unpleasant?"
Manfred shook his head emphatically. "Not at all. I respect the hell out of him. It takes guts to admit he's learning from a bunch of autonomists."
Erick and Yuuri completed the swearing-in ceremony at the podium. But then Erick took the microphone-equivalent – a small majutsu horn. He and Yuuri bowed to each other, and Yuuri took a seat.
"Lords," Erick began, addressing the line of Aristocrats, Cecilie and Manfred among them. He had a superb speaking voice. All high born youngsters in Trondheim, Aldrich included, studied public speaking in earnest. To be chosen speaker was an honor based on merit. Franklin and Aldrich, and later Erick, were expected to earn that honor. "Lords, normally, at this time, I would pass in review with each of you. I look forward to that honor – tomorrow night. Tonight, instead we share with you a troll midsummer's celebration, in lieu of a military review.
"Many of you know the trolls' present-day allies and closest friends, the goblins, the elves, and the demons of Trondheim. And we dance midsummer together tonight as always. As you may not know, the trolls of old had other allies, before the Enemy of Shinou tore us asunder. Some of these races have not danced with us on this sacred night in over four thousand years.
"First to the dance – the dragons!" There was a thunderous round of applause from everyone at that. Aldrich had packed this audience by publicizing the multi-dragon spectacle. Erick continued as commentator, as four dragons circled the field, and began weaving in a dance and blowing fire. "Two of these dragons are the only ones remaining from Shinou's time. Her hosts in Wincott hail her – Annabelle!" he cried while Annabelle – the original Neville – swooped down at him at the dais, missing his head by mere inches, then pulled up with a huge spew of flame. The next dragon played the same game as he called, "In Krennhaven, they call him – Darkscale!
"Annabelle and Darkscale's daughter leads the truce enforcers in the most troubled hot-spot in all Shin Makoku." This dragon had an attitude and wanted to flaunt it. She circled fast and low, dive-bombing the spectator barges on the Donza, doing several hair-raising aerobatics over the crowd. "Kriegsbad trembles at the name of – Kristbane!" Kristbane dove at huge Erick with such speed and ferocity that the wind knocked him back. Her towering flame and jaw-rattling roar drove Dietrich into hiding in Manfred's arms.
"At this time," Erick remarked, in a casual and friendly tone, "I'd like to remind the audience, that the area here around the dais is restricted for the security of the Trondheim delegation. Mind the military police, folks. Nobody, but nobody, screws with Kristbane!" The crowd laughed.
Friedrich gazed after Kristbane with dark joy. He'd had enough of practicing with Neville over tea and crumpets – he wanted to talk to this shock trooper. Wolfram behind the podium looked like he was thinking the same thing. Greta was hanging on Wolfram begging to let her come with. The Krist-Trondheim frontier dragons still dealt out executions following violent incidents nearly every day. They didn't attend Neville's parties. Kristbane had arrived escorting the Trondheim multi-racial delegation, which included Troll Mother and Aldrich's mother Alana, and she'd guard them until they were back well within Trondheim.
"And the fourth dragon, our protector and dragon host here in gracious Bielenfeld, the best fed dragon to ever look for a mate – Neville!" The Bielenfeld crowd thundered with applause for Neville. He didn't have a prayer of equalling the elders for size, or Kristbane for ferocity, so Neville came waddling in on a slow roll, to Dietrich's delight. He and Trenton exchanged thumbs-up.
After the dragon light show was done, the elves filed into the restricted exhibition dance area to dance before Troll Mother and Lady Alana. The troll-kin sang strange dark erotic music as accompaniment. Erick kept up a steady commentary, with the history of the elves and trolls and descriptions of the dances. A number of spectators started leaving once the dragons were done, but many wandered back as they realized Erick did a great job compensating for the people in the back. And they might never see these other races again. During Lord's Lessons, the children had put a lot of ingenuity into nurturing this perspective, amongst the rather xenophobic Bielenfeld conference hosts.
To the surprise and delight of the spectators on the barges, Teodor von Trondheim on the river took over as announcer, to describe the joint swimnastics of the mermensch, silkies, and several other aquatic races – one a lumbering behemoth along the lines of the Loch Ness Monster he called the Kraken.
The non-healing, pure fire maryoku branch of the von Bielenfelds – Lord Howard's gang – was on the river en masse, and provided lots of firelight, especially each time the Kraken's giant tentacles rose high above the barges. Ted laid no claim as to whether or when these water Mazoku were allied to the trolls. Sea peoples, they'd never danced before at midsummer in the high mountain troll halls of Trondheim.
"And folks," concluded Ted, "please respect the warning buoys on the riverfront, marking the restricted area for the security of our guests from the Khrennikov coast. And there is no swimming anywhere tonight, on the Donza. If you go overboard, to avoid confusion, the MP's will not be jumping in after you. Darkscale and the Kraken will be handling violators, personally. So folks, stay dry, and stay safe. Back to you, Lord Trondheim!"
"Thank you, Ted! Folks, that was my uncle Teodor von Trondheim, speaking to you from the barges." Erick didn't dare ask for a round of applause for Ted, but the crowd gave him one anyway.
As the applause died down, Erick outlined the rest of the night. A number of races had but a single representative here, and goblins and demons usually danced together at midsummer. Therefore following an intermission, everyone was invited to join in the goblin dances, spectators included. After that would be a half hour intermission, then the trolls' turn to end the night. He warned that the troll dance was a religious ceremony, and would last until after 2 a.m. But for those who stayed, he promised a small but complete rendition of one of the most sacred troll rites, plus a surprise appearance by another of the trolls' ancient allies.
As the intermission shuffling got underway, Aldrich vaulted up onto the stage to join the von Bielenfeld group. He swooped up a grinning Dietrich. "Everybody having fun? Kristbane was cool, huh, Diet? Awesome dress, Cecilie! Efram, get back here." He snagged an escaping Efram by the collar and dragged him back, then started dancing a little. "Manfred! Diet! Guess what Grandmother Alana brought with her! Mokonas!"
"Really?" Dietrich's eyes lit up. "Where?"
"We'll go dance with them in a minute."
"How entrolled are you?" chuckled Manfred.
"Just enough to enjoy it," Aldrich returned with a grin. "Oh, yeah, Efram! You're off duty tonight –"
"Really?" Efram's eyes lit up. Head of the Horde had been a hell of a job during this conference.
"Really – all kids under parental supervision. The problems are out on the barges with Lord Howard. But," he grabbed Efram back as he started to bolt, "that includes you. Look, not touch. Got it?"
Efram smiled his pixie smile. "Aw, you know me…"
"I sure do. That elf dance was … inspiring. Maybe it's just my elf blood. You think?"
"I think it's your male blood," Efram admitted, grinning.
"Yeah, I think so, too. So play safe, don't piss off Kristbane, and have a ball with your night off – well earned, well deserved. You've been awesome at this conference. Thank you."
Efram grinned his thanks and disappeared.
"Well, I'll mosey off, too," Cecilie said. She dragged a fingertip across Manfred's cheek. "See you tomorrow."
"Happy hunting. Cecilie," Manfred said, matching her demonic green-eyed leer.
"Sorry, did I chase her off?" asked Aldrich, not looking especially sorry.
Definitely possessive. But I kinda like it, thought Manfred. He caressed Aldrich's hand on Dietrich's back. "She's fine, having a ball."
Friedrich sighed. "Manfred, I truly don't understand you two. Three…"
"Want me to explain it to you, Uncle?" Manfred threatened.
"Gods, no, thank you very much for asking," said Friedrich with a laugh, and also sauntered off to seek a dance partner.
"Will Grandfather dance with Grandmother Alana?" asked Dietrich.
"I doubt that very much, Diet. Now – Mokonas! Mokonas!"
The three of them were soon dancing with a half dozen waist-high – on Manfred, at least – mokonas. The creatures were even more adorable in person. They were freshly washed and glossy black, though a whiff of their carrion-fed halitosis was daunting. They were joined by all the von Gratzes, including little Frieda, then Greta and Yuuri and Wolfram with the latest dozen goblins she'd befriended. Greta had won the undying worship of the gaggle of goblins she and Adelbert acquired in the Fens – they were still at Blood Pledge Castle, employed in the baths. Günter and Yozak both raved about them as bath attendents, albeit in rather different tones of voice.
Efram, holding hands in a traveling line dance with around twenty elves and demons and a faun, wove by once. Gwendal and Annissina, with her von Khrennikov relatives, all danced by with pure goblins. Gwendal was even quirking up a corner of his mouth in an almost-smile. Yozak and Conrad joined a rough squat-and-leap line-dance of part-troll men, all stripped to the waist, sweating in the 72-degree summer swelter. In the wintersport wonderland of high Trond Hall, such temperatures would be a 100-year record daytime high.
oOo
"Hi, I'm back, did you miss me?" Erick greeted the crowd, as he took the horn back from Yuuri. "I flunked out," he confided in a low voice, eliciting laughter. The crowd had thinned substantially, duly warned of 'religious preliminaries'. That was intentional – Erick wanted only sincere spectators for the religious rites. But these turned out to be hilarious elimination rounds of the part-troll men, stripped to their waists and strutting their stuff for Alana and Troll Mother, vying for the honor of 'Caller' in the dance. Aldrich had told Manfred to picture all the men as princesses vying for the Crown Prince's favor. Then flip gender for a matriarchy – women rather liked boys to be boys. Manfred had to admit, the goofball spectacle made a lot of sense from that perspective.
"It's OK, though! Really!" Erick confided to the audience. "We're down to the final six, but what an interesting six! All three non-Trondheims are still in the running! But this next round is the presentation of children. This is the most feared round of the elimination," he lowered his voice again, "being judged on the quality of their children! My father always said so, when he was stuck presenting me. The non-Trondheims will be eliminated this time for sure!"
The three Trondheim champions brought their kids to converse with Alana and Troll Mother first. Erick kept up a running translation. The ladies judged two of the children worthy, but bounced the third son, who was older than Erick, because he hadn't made it past the first round of qualifying acrobatics – he'd only made it six steps on his hands.
Next up was Brendan, presenting Trenton. Alana asked him what he'd done this year to be proud of. Trenton bragged about seeing ten dead trolls in the Fens. All the trolls – including a mortified Brendan – gasped.
"And what did you do?" inquired Alana.
"Um, mostly I fought with my cousin Dietrich," Trenton admitted.
"A spirited lad, isn't he, Alana?" said Troll Mother fondly, petting Brendan's hand.
Alana smiled wanly, and stroked Trenton's forehead, then gave them a little shove toward some retainers, who led the woozy pair away.
"And Brendan and Trenton von Gratz are entrolled to go learn better manners!" summarized Erick. The Trondheim men laughed and applauded. "We're down to four. Next up, Adelbert von Gratz presenting his six year old daughter Frieda!"
Alana and Troll Mother were fascinated by Frieda, but after passing her back and forth, they regretfully told Adelbert that only a Mazoku child could qualify him.
"But she does have maryoku!" objected Adelbert, defending little Frieda. "Here Frieda, make your sandbear for Chichibert?"
"Did Adelbert just call himself 'Chichibert'?" relayed a laughing Erick. "Whoa! And folks, the half-human Frieda has a pure fire majutsu signature, of a… is that a sandbear!? ... Yes, folks, Adelbert explains to the mothers that Frieda's mother was a… pirate!? And a sandbear trainer… And the mothers are impressed, that Frieda is daughter of such a warrior woman." Erick made it clear that he and the other Trondheim men found their approval hard to believe. "Ah… the sand-bear training pirate mother is no longer with them… And Wolfram von Bielenfeld is fostering her when Adelbert isn't present… This is complicated, folks… Troll Mother summons Wolfram to the dais… Wolfram is the girl in pink who's a boy? It seems they know each other… But Alana wants to know who the real woman of the household is… Lady Cecilie von Spitzweg saunters forth – sweet Shinou, what a dress… Lady Alana likes the dress… Troll Mother wants to know if she raised the girl in pink who's a boy if she'll then raise the girl to be a boy – I'm so confused! … Lady Cecilie whispered something to the Mothers… Whoa! Lady Alana is laughing out loud! This is rare, folks. And Adelbert – passes! Whoa!" A huge round of applause followed for Adelbert and Frieda.
"Alright, folks, last up – Aldrich von Bielenfeld, presenting his son Dietrich!" The Trondheim men started chanting, Doom! Doom! Doom! "Now, my great-aunt is of course impeccably fair." Doom! Doom! Doom! "Lady Alana would never treat her son to an impossible standard or anything." Doom! Doom! Doom! Alana made a slicing gesture at her neck, and Erick and the men desisted with the teasing, as Aldrich came up to the dais, bare chest and blue-blond hair glistening gorgeously in the firelight, hand in hand with the flawlessly attired Dietrich.
"Aldrich, get your hair off your forehead," Alana snapped. Doom! Doom! Doom! started up the men from behind again. "Oh, fine!" she snapped at them, with another neck-slicing gesture. Aldrich maintained his composure, bowed to both Mothers, and presented Dietrich, who also calmly bowed, with impeccable manners.
"Oh, you're such a lovely child, little Tricky! Isn't he, Alana?" said Troll Mother. "Such pretty manners. So, Dietrich, I hear you set little Frieda's hair on fire in the Krist Fens. Tell me about that?"
Erick gasped, as did the audience when he relayed this. But Dietrich calmly said that he'd misbehaved to help Brendan convince their captors to take them to Shin Makoku instead of Trond Hall. He bowed deeply and apologized. He added that he had apologized and made amends to Hasgrud, the leader of their captors, after their captivity was over. Red-haired Hasgrud being one of the other finalists, he came forward and corroborated this story. Dietrich had given him vegetables he'd grown himself in his garden as gifts for his father and grandfather, and that after the party had turned toward Shin Makoku, Dietrich had been an absolute angel. Hasgrud shook Dietrich's hand, and Aldrich's, and headed back to the waiting group of finalists.
Erick concluded, "And – Aldrich and Dietrich von Bielenfeld pass!" There was thunderous applause from the audience. "Ah – now what?" Erick passed the horn to Alana.
Alana spoke carefully. "In the past, the children Frieda and Dietrich would not have qualified their fathers, for they are not of half troll blood or higher. But their fathers can qualify in that way only at great peril for their lives. The Daughters and the Mothers have conferred and come to a ruling. The final round in this competition shall be judged on the answers to these questions: What are your greatest accomplishments this year? Whom would you Call? And lastly, do you believe you should be chosen Caller?"
The two Trondheim men came in turn and knelt before her. The first had completed building a new Hall in the troll reservation, but was at peace with all his dead, and had no one to Call this year. He bowed out. Hasgrud said he'd done his duty to friends and family and Trondheim. He wished to Call his comrades who had perished in the Krist Fens, and believed he was qualified as Caller by the old rules as well as the new.
Adelbert gave several accomplishments in Weller's Rangers. He said his father had died this year, and if the dance could bring atonement… His voice cracked. He should like to find peace with his father. He had never been part of a troll ceremony before, had chosen to repudiate his troll heritage in anger, and believed he should not be chosen Caller. But that he would be honored if the Mothers would allow him to participate, and try to find troll-demon reconciliation within himself. Alana and Troll Mother clearly found his case moving.
Aldrich knelt before them. "This year, I have struggled to become myself more truly. I have learned much about myself that I did not know, and accepted it. My maryoku powers have grown, and I completed regenerating my own arm. I at last set the past to rest, and face the future with my lover. But most of all, I worked for peace between troll and demon, and now all races. I cannot call that accomplished, nor mine. It is too much bigger than me. But I am proud of my part in it. This year I would call Adeldan von Gratz, who was like a brother-in-law to me, and slain by my own vassals. Wolfred von Bielenfeld, like a brother to me, who died long ago, but with whom I have… fresh business. My best friend, Franklin von Trondheim. And Hasgrud's dead on the Krist Fens, for I was responsible for their deaths, as I played for time to build peace. As for whether I am qualified to Call," he looked his mother straight in the eye, "I never expected to live to find out, Mother."
At this, Hasgrud respectfully approached and took the horn, and Aldrich stepped back to wait. "Mothers, I wish to bow out. I find Aldrich's case more compelling than my own."
Alana said quietly, "Aldrich von Trondheim von Bielenfeld shall Call."
The non-Trondheim audience started applauding, but Erick held up his arms. "Please, there will be no further applause tonight. The rest of our proceedings are a sacred rite. You are welcome to observe, but you cannot interrupt. This rite is to Call our dead back to us, to dance resolution and to visit with them. We invite you to Call upon your dead as well. Once the Calling begins, you too may feel moved to dance, outside the restricted area. And when you feel complete, you may feel free to leave. On behalf of the Mothers and all the people of Trondheim, I thank you for joining us tonight. May the atonement and magic of midsummer bring peace to you all. Good night."
A spattering of applause was quickly self-stifled among the crowd. Two thirds of the torches around the restricted area were doused. Aldrich finally rose from where he'd been kneeling between Alana and Troll Mother, their hands on his head, receiving instructions and pheromones. He strode to the middle of the dance floor, and knelt again, head bowed to the mothers. The men – part-trolls only to start – began singing and dancing around him. The earth rose in humps for them to somersault off, then pillars they leapt between. The music throbbed. The very earth under their feet drummed percussion from the tapping of Troll Mother and Alana's feet, even rocking the barges on the Donza.
When this built to a frenzy, Aldrich rose, and threw his signature twenty feet high into the air – his new blue-green-orange cypress tree. Many gasped, including the Aristocrats, for only a handful had seen it yet. He joined the acrobatic dance, but alternated between leaping off earthworks and touching other men. And the number of men… grew. Shadowy figures, many far taller and more troll than the living men on the dance floor, joined them.
Yuuri watched more intently. The Lords within the restricted area had been told if and when they wanted to join in, to wait at the edge of the dance floor, but otherwise, to stay back in their seats. Some wandered forward, others not. Yuuri hadn't yet. Where Aldrich passed, new shadows joined the last man he'd touched. Usually he simply passed on to the next man. But Aldrich got a leaping assist from Brendan and Adelbert working in tandem – and then danced with a taller blond shadow of a man, apparently Adeldan. Yuuri's eyes widened. Aldrich was actually swinging his weight with the shade of Adeldan! That's quite a ghost! When he reached Erick, both of them clasped arms around a shadowy Franklin, and spun around in a three-man hug. Ted pushed his way in, too.
So far, the shadows were all of trolls in the circle, but Aldrich had mentioned his father Wolfred, so Manfred rose dreamlike to stand beside the dance floor. Garena joined him and took his hand. Manfred looked at him in surprise, then nodded. Friedrich moved to join them, but Tariel took his hand and held him back for a moment. When Aldrich came around, he did a backflip off an earthen pillar that rose to meet him and subsided afterwards, then put his arms around Garena and Manfred and swung around with them. He let go of Garena and Wolfred's shade stepped into the gap. He and Aldrich swung around once more, and Aldrich passed on. The shade of Wolfred between them holding hands in a line, Garena drew Wolfred and Manfred into the dance, weaving between the ever-shifting earthworks. As he passed around the circle, every second torch began to flame half-green instead of all orange. Manfred passed close to Adeldan and was torn. Wolfred swung him around, then let go to have Manfred swing toward the other man, who had remained foster father to Manfred long after his father-mother Wolfred died. The giant shade swung with him and Adelbert, then passed on to greet others among the living.
And so it continued. Many shades were Called, by an Aldrich who seemed to be gaining energy instead of losing it as he passed around. Yuuri saw Friedrich and Tariel greet a beauty who must be the shade of Emeraude, a tall blond man who may well have been Theophilus, and a man much like Manfred who might have been Aldrich's brother Wolfgang. Wolfram danced briefly with a group of twenty blond youths, and a bit longer with three of them, then one, who must have been Axel, then passed on to dance with Gwendal and his father the great general, whom Wolfram never knew, and with Conrad and Dan Hiri Weller, whom he did. Cecilie drifted through and danced with these as well, and many, many others, for she had known most of the dead of the Lords. Yuuri himself chose to sit it out, but Greta asked him to come with her, for she wanted to see her biological parents, and for him to see them. Hilde kept Trenton and Dietrich, until Brendan came to bring Trenton into the dance. Then Efram took Dietrich's hand, and they went in together.
The shades never spoke – they only danced. They were calm and serene, in a daze, as were the living dancers, but they knew each other's touch once more.
Everyone eventually came out of their daze somewhere on the walk back to Castle Bielenfeld, not having realized they'd decided to leave the dance. The memory was hazy – a touch, faces of the departed, the sure knowledge that they were alright and wished their living well. Somehow the dance floor had become rather leafy toward the end. But any discomfort or regret associated with the shades they had met on that field, was gone.
Manfred came to his senses some ways down the road, hand in hand with Dietrich. He eddied them out of the throng, and found a good vantage point to sit with the child. Dietrich told him about seeing his mother, and that he really liked having Manfred better than his mother, then fell asleep on Manfred's lap. Manfred beckoned Efram over when he passed. They talked about the trolls Efram had killed, about men Manfred had killed. Cecilie exchanged a nod as she passed, arm in arm between Conrad and Gwendal and Annissina. The dance ended and the throng gradually slowed to a trickle. Most people passed them in a daze, not noticing them. But Aldrich headed straight for them.
After he'd kissed Manfred and Dietrich, and squeezed Efram's shoulder, he murmured, "I just keep getting stranger all the time, huh?"
"Nope," replied Manfred. "Still Manfred's Aldrich. Just more so." It's not an observation, he thought. It's a choice. I choose you, Aldrich von Trondheim von Bielenfeld. Every day there's a new you, and a new me, and I choose you again. I didn't know it could happen that way.
It was very late by the time they found their beds, but despite the long hours and dancing, there was magic in the midsummer night air. Wolfram and Aldrich both made more seeds that night.
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