A/N: First of all, I'm sorry that this took a while! I was having some problems with this chapter, you see. But now it's up; that's something, isn't it?
Royal Wedding
The sight of a sixty-year-old woman perched on the top of a wall like a child would normally be enough to draw many curious gazes. At least, that is what Ghidreth thought to herself.
The streets of Belisaere were lined with people pressed together tighter than peas in a pod, but none of them spared her a second glance. Ghidreth and a few other Wallmakers had chosen this particular spot because of the view. They had staked out a claim on a section of brick wall that bordered some Lord's property, and they were not alone: walltops, rooftops, balconies, and trees were practically overflowing with people, all eager to catch a glimpse of the procession as it went by.
Every pair of eyes was trained upon the street corner, around which would come the Royal wedding procession. So of course, even an old woman sitting on a wall wasn't enough to distract anyone.
The entertainment was still quite some distance away, and Ghidreth kicked her heels, humming idly. She and the other Wallmakers had abandoned their usual leather vests, for the sight of an embroidered trowel was enough to have people clamouring for you to fix things for them. It was a great nuisance, and the Wallmakers had quickly learned not to advertise their occupation.
Ghidreth had not been to a large city for years, and she had forgotten how many people there were. Dressed in simple woollen garments, with kerchiefs holding back the long hair of the women, the Wallmakers blended in easily with the citizens of Belisaere.
"Look!" someone called suddenly, and soon everybody was chattering excitedly. Over the hubbub, Ghidreth could hear the faint sound of music. She and the Wallmakers craned their heads to get a better view as the procession rounded the corner.
First came several young girls dressed in pale green. They wore ribbons in their hair, and danced down the street throwing flowers from their baskets. After them marched lines of musicians playing flutes, tabors, fifes, and drums. Ghidreth couldn't help but smile at the merry tune, and the audience roared with approval and clapped their hands to the rhythm. A band of acrobats were next, men and women in bright tunics and leggings. They cartwheeled down the road, standing on each others' shoulders and turning somersaults. The crowd was loving it.
Next, a band of drummers rounded the corner, with a legion of flag-bearers marching after. They carried the standards of every Lord in the Kingdom, with the red and gold Royal banner at the head. The Wallmaker almost thought that this procession would never end. Seriously, how many Lords of the Kingdom could there be? Among the forest of flags, Ghidreth spotted a blue one with a single silver key. Abhorsen's noble lineage continued, despite his past occupation as a necromancer.
At last the flag procession came to an end, and following it were troops of foot-soldiers in red and gold uniform. The Wallmaker thought that she would never see the end to them, either. Did Berillan want to impress his subjects with the size of his army? Ghidreth drummed her fingers impatiently on the top of the Wall, while the younger Wallmakers played "I spy".
When the soldiers had finally passed, ranks of mounted Knights rode by on horseback, ten abreast. Their silver armour flashed in the sunlight, and the horses tossed their plumed heads and jingled their bits. The children in the crowd squealed with delight at the horses, and the guards lining the parade route had to work hard to prevent them from dashing out. Ghidreth was not so bored by this, as horses were always a delight to watch. She amused herself by counting the black ones.
As the last horse trotted through the palace gates, a hush seemed to spread over the throng. Coming around the corner, Ghidreth could see two lines of youths holding branches in their hands. And between those two lines walked four girls. They all had shining blonde hair crowned with flowers, and wore dresses of frothy white.
"Now who do you suppose they are?" Iva, a Wallmaker, murmured.
Another Wallmaker, Russen, snorted. "They're the bride's sisters, of course. You know, the bridesmaids."
The crowd, which had become very quiet, suddenly broke into riotous cheers. Ghidreth pushed herself to her feet, and placed a steadying hand against the trunk of a tree. Above the heads of the waving crown, she could see an open carriage drawn by eight white horses. And inside that carriage was a beautiful young woman. As if on cue, a gentle breeze sprang up and the apple trees lining the road started to spill their scented white blossoms. The Wallmakers stared at the bride as she went past, and Russen muttered, "She looks like a… a…"
"A princess?" Iva suggested ironically.
As the carriage rattled through the palace gates, Ghidreth gathered herself. "Come on," she said briskly. The Wallmakers moved quickly along the top of the wall and leapt down to the ground. They could see the door of the Royal chapel, a building attached to the side of the palace. While most of the procession had remained in the courtyard within the palace gates, the bridesmaids and bride had gone inside. Ghidreth pushed her way through the crowd, and managed to make it into the cleared space before the gates, which had been closed. Uniformed guards were posted there, as well as at the chapel doors.
"Hello," Ghidreth panted, quite winded from fighting through so many people.
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Move along there, ma'am," he said gruffly. "Only guests allowed inside the gates."
The Wallmaker raised her eyebrow, and pulled an embossed card from the pocket of her dress. She handed it through the gate to the guard, who glanced at it before staring at her. "My apologies," he said hastily. He signalled to the other guards, who quickly pulled the gates open. Ghidreth and the Wallmakers were bowed through and led right up to the chapel doors. They smirked at the guards as they passed through, who could not believe that this small group of scruffy-looking men and women had an invitation to the Crown Prince's wedding.
The chapel was very old, like the palace, and made of stone. Light streamed through stained glass windows, and wooden pews lined either side. They were quietly ushered to a row of seats near the back, and Ghidreth peered up at the people standing by the altar.
A Charter Mage was reciting words to the congregation, words that Ghidreth could not make out. She could see Berillan standing to the right of the altar, dressed in his finest crimson and white tunic tasselled with gold. He was even wearing his ceremonial crown! Ghidreth stifled a laugh; Berillan hated wearing that crown. He found it much too unwieldy, and preferred the simpler ones. To the left of the altar was Tirelle, wearing the white dress and moonstone coronet of her station. And before the altar stood a young couple. Prince Dantalion wore a uniform of red and gold, and a golden circlet gleamed on his head. Lady Penemue wore a white dress sprinkled with golden stars, her long hair held back by a jewelled net. They were reciting their vows, but Ghidreth was too far away to hear.
Sitting in the front row were the four bridesmaids, and another blond woman bouncing an infant on her lap. Ghidreth recognized them as the rest of Tirelle's daughters. And seated next to them, she recognized the dark head of Abhorsen. The woman beside him would be his wife, and the young boy on his knee would be his son. It looked like everybody had been invited – everybody who Ghidreth considered important in the Kingdom, at least. Of course, her idea of who was important did not correspond to the ideas of most of the influential people in the Kingdom.
The Charter Mage presiding over the ceremony joined Prince Dantalion's hands with Penemue's, and wrapped a length of red ribbon around them, binding them in marriage. They kissed, and Tirelle pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at her eyes as the guests broke out into applause. The small, bedraggled group of Wallmakers whistled loudly and stamped their feet, earning several glares from prominent members of the nobility. Ghidreth managed to catch the King's eye, and winked.
With the ceremony finished, the guests were herded through a set of doors into the palace ballroom. Refreshments covered tables that lined the walls, and Ghidreth told her Wallmakers to mingle and have fun. A group of musicians played lively music at one end of the room, and already the Prince and his Princess had started the dancing.
Ghidreth managed to work her way towards the King, who turned and smiled in welcome. "Ghidreth!" he exclaimed, clasping her hand warmly. "I'm glad that you could make it."
"So am I," the Wallmaker replied. "And don't worry about your Wall. Felio is supervising the construction while I'm gone."
Berillan took two goblets of wine from a servant, and handed one to her. "I'm not worried," he remarked mildly. "The Wall will be finished when it's finished. But now, we celebrate."
Ghidreth raised her goblet. "Congratulations. I like your crown."
The King chuckled, before removing the hideous thing from his head. Ghidreth examined the enormous gemstones and shook her head in disbelief that any craftsman could bring himself to make something so ugly.
"I brought gifts for the bride and groom," the Wallmaker remarked absently, still staring at the crown.
"The secret to making gethre armour?" Berillan asked, eyes twinkling.
The older woman shook her grey head. "You know that I will never give that up, Your Highness. Not even to the Royal armourers."
"Pity," the King remarked. "You could probably use their help in making it, especially with your new projects. That reminds me… did you get my message?"
"I did," confirmed Ghidreth. She glanced around the room, and lowered her voice. "This home that Tirelle has Seen sounds like a tremendous undertaking. I mean, it is practically a town in itself! And built in a glacier, at that."
"Future inhabitants will be able to expand it," the King said reasonably. "Tirelle Saw what it would be like in the future. You need to work with her to determine exactly what needs to be built now. And if anyone can craft a home inside a glacier, it has to be the Wallmakers."
Ghidreth shrugged fatalistically, unable to deny the truth of his words. "I will send over a team to work with Tirelle and draw up some preliminary plans for this home. They will have to survey the glacier, take measurements, test the ice… Perhaps Master Malfas will be willing to make the trip north. He did such a good job on Abhorsen's House, after all."
King Berillan smiled in agreement. "There is something else I wanted to talk to you about," he said, running a hand through his grey curls. "I sent you the locations we chose for the lesser Charter Stones."
"Ah, yes," said the Wallmaker. "We're almost ready to start those. Many Wallmakers have volunteered for that project. I do not think those Stones will claim lives, but the volunteers are all prepared for the possibility of death… or "transformation"… or whatever happened with the Great Stones."
The King's grey eyes focussed on her sharply. "What do you think will happen?" he asked.
The woman drew a deep breath. "Well, the task will be very draining, there's no doubt about that. The Wallmakers' powers will be weakened – permanently, or temporarily. To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure what will happen."
Berillan clasped his hands together, head lowered in thought. "Perhaps we should ask one volunteer to try it first, and see the extent of his or her injuries. The Great Stones were unique in that they all had to be created together. But these stones can be made separately, and we should know what we are getting into."
Ghidreth gave an ironic smile. "I quite agree." She turned to look back at the celebration, and spotted a familiar dark head. "I see that Lord Abhorsen finally settled down," she remarked. "Malfas told me that he'd had a son."
"Cassiel," said the King. "Delightful child. Abhorsen is training him to take his place."
"Already?" the Wallmaker asked, eyes widening slightly. The boy couldn't have been older than seven. "Well, I suppose you're never too young to learn your life's vocation." She watched Abhorsen, and her eyes alighted on a familiar emerald pommel stone flashing at his side. "And how does Lord Abhorsen like his sword?" she asked.
Berillan couldn't hold back a laugh. "He hasn't been apart from it since you forged it for him," he chortled.
Ghidreth lowered her voice. "And what about… Yrael?" she asked.
"I believe he prefers to stay at the House," the King replied evenly. "Your binding has worked so far. Abhorsen tells me that although he believes the creature would dearly love to murder him in his bed, it has not harmed him – or anyone else, for that matter."
"That is a relief," Ghidreth agreed. She was about to say something more, when they were pounced upon by the two newlyweds.
"Hello, father," the Prince grinned. "Hello, Ghidreth," he added merrily. "It's been a while since I last saw you. Still slaving over that Wall of yours?"
The Wallmaker was pleasantly surprised by the young man's behaviour. He had always been perfectly polite, but hardly ever what one would call friendly. It seemed that marriage could do a lot to a person. Or love. Or maybe it was just the infectious delight unique to weddings. "Yes, I'm still slaving over that Wall of mine," she confirmed wryly. "And I will be, to the bitter end." She turned to the young woman at his side. "My congratulations to you, daughter of the Clayr."
"My mother told me about you," the bride said cheerfully. "I must admit, you're not at all what I expected."
"Sixty years old and still going strong," the King remarked. Ghidreth resisted the urge to smack him. She would probably be arrested if she did that.
"I have wedding gifts for both of you," she said instead. The Wallmaker raised her arm, and Iva and Russen materialized at her side as if summoned by a spell. They hadn't, but Ghidreth was sure that if she had really wanted to summon them by magic, she could have. Just something to think about.
Iva stepped forward, holding a package wrapped in paper. The Princess opened it eagerly. A book fell into her hands, and she gasped at the title. "Kile and Aurina!" she practically squealed, and her husband groaned and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.
"The book is spelled so that only a woman can close it," Ghidreth said helpfully.
"You can do that?" exclaimed the Crown Prince.
"If I hadn't been able to close your mother's copy," the King said calmly, "You would not have been born, Dantalion."
Ghidreth laughed aloud, the Wallmakers sniggered, Dantalion put his face in his hand, and Penemue giggled and blushed.
"And here is your wedding gift, Prince," said Ghidreth, struggling to remain composed. Russen offered the young man something wrapped in fabric. Dantalion pulled back the folds of cloth to reveal two swords sheathed in three-quarter scabbards, complete with a wide sword-belt. "I made them myself," said the Wallmaker, "About the same time that I forged Abhorsen's sword."
The Prince slowly put on the belt and swords. This was the Dantalion that Ghidreth had known, the serious-faced warrior. "May they serve you well," she said. With a wave of her arms she dismissed Iva and Russen, who returned to the celebrations.
"What's going on here?" a merry voice interrupted, and Ghidreth turned to behold Abhorsen's smiling face. His wife and son were beside him, and a flurry of introductions followed. During the exchange, Tirelle joined the little group.
"Are we having a meeting?" the Clayr asked jovially. Her face was alight with happiness at seeing her daughter married, and she was a lot friendlier than what Ghidreth remembered. It seemed that weddings changed a lot of people for the better. Or maybe it was the fantastic wine that was being served.
"We look silly just standing here while this music is playing," Tirelle announced. "We should all be dancing!" Her new son-in-law gallantly held out an arm, and she took it with a curtsey. The King bowed to Malia, who blushingly accepted his hand. Penemue paired up with Cassiel, who looked thrilled at the idea of dancing with the bride. And Abhorsen winked at Ghidreth.
"Looks like we're stuck together," he remarked impishly.
"Looks like it," Ghidreth agreed. "It's been a while since this old woman danced, but on this day I'll make an exception." With a wink and a grin, Lord Abhorsen took her hand and twirled her onto the dance floor.
A/N: Yay, everyone's together! And they're partying! I took the hand-binding ceremony from pagan wedding rituals, which I thought seemed appropriate for this early time in Old Kingdom history. The next chapter will be back at the Wall with Ghidreth. Until then, a review would be lovely!