by M. J. Sewall
“That's right. Study your history carefully, otherwise you will be doomed to relive it,” said Loren, taking the dishes.
“But I'm thirteen, I don't have any history yet,” Gordon said with a smile.
Loren smiled back, “Ha, ha, you know what I mean. Get to your book. We can discuss it tomorrow when we visit the sick.”
Gordon thought about his own history from time to time. He loved his uncle. All he could remember was living with him since his parents had died. His father died in a terrible accident aboard ship, before he was born. His mother had drowned in a river the same year he was born. It always made Loren sad when Gordon asked about them, so he tried not to. Gordon had a lot of questions. As he got older it was harder not to ask.
Gordon made his way to his bed and finished reading The Kings And Queens, Great and Small. Gordon realized why Uncle Loren wanted him to finish it before the choosing. The last two kings in the book both had memorable choosing ceremonies. Bartomm the Bold was chosen king during the second revolt. There had been actual fighting at the ceremony; more than fifty people died in the very same courtyard where he had been earlier in the day. Bartomm had to continue the war at age thirteen while learning to be king. The other king, Jamesson, had tripped and accidentally fallen off the choosing tower and broken both legs. He began his kinghood in a wheeled chair.
Loren often found ways to teach Gordon about things using something that happened in history. When Gordon was helping Uncle Loren with the sick, he was constantly explaining what he was doing so Gordon would understand. Some of his favorite memories were of the talks they had as they traveled from house to house, helping the sick. Gordon also read many books from Uncle Loren's private library. None of Loren's books were taught in school. Whenever Gordon asked why, his uncle always shook his head and said, “I have my theories. But they should be taught.”
Gordon put out the gas lamp and fell asleep quickly. He didn't dream that night. At least, nothing he could remember. The day before the choosing came too quickly. It was a regular day of chores and going around the village as Loren's helper. He carried the bags of healing herbs and mixtures that his uncle used. There were only five people to visit that day. Most everyone seemed to be in good health, awaiting the excitement of the choosing ceremony. The streets seemed more alive somehow; people carrying bundles home excitedly, all the wagons and carts full of food for sale lined along nearly every road, and everyone talking of nothing but the ceremony.
The day passed quickly and ended with the dream again. Gordon was falling from the airship. He could feel the cold wind rushing past his face. He passed through a cloud and he saw his kingdom, and many more beyond. Large armies from every kingdom were smashing into each other like great waves on the sea. Everywhere there was fire, great plumes of smoke rising to the sky he was falling from. This time the sky was surrounded by the shadow, its eyes burning. There was no mouth to the shadow, but the laughter got louder anyway, coming from nowhere and everywhere. As the ground rushed towards Gordon, he could smell the smoke and feel the flames begin to burn his skin.
Gordon woke up, breathless.
“Gordon?” called his uncle. Gordon realized he must have screamed again.
Gordon called back, “I'm okay, Uncle Loren.”
Loren rushed into the room. Gordon threw his blankets off. He still felt like he was burning. He was sticky with sweat. Loren came to him, “Are you alright?” putting his hand to Gordon's head, “You're burning up.”
Gordon concentrated on slowing his breathing, “I'm fine. It was just the dream again.”
Loren asked, “The same dream? This has been happening since spring.”
Gordon nodded, “I know. It was the same dream, but it's changing. I was falling again. There was fire everywhere. And the shadow is getting bigger, closer. I just wish I knew what it meant.”
“A terrible dream. I've consulted my books. Falling dreams means you feel out of control. Is that how you feel, Gordon?” Loren asked.
“I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I have no control. I mean, I trip over my feet, I'm not very good at games, and the stupid sweetblood…” he said, trying to smile.
Loren continued, “I understand. Fire in a dream can mean lots of things: transformation in your life, something about to change, needing to change. Seems like many elements of your dream are about things out of control. But this shadow figure is the strangest part.”
“It sure is, and the scariest. I don't know why it scares me, not exactly. And why is it laughing during all the fire?”
Loren offered, “Anything I can give you to sleep would complicate the sweetblood. But I suppose I can give you something just for tonight…”
“No… Thanks anyway,” Gordon said, “I think I can sleep again. I've never had the dream twice in one night.”
“Alright,” Loren said, kissing his own hand and putting it on Gordon's forehead, “Love you, Gordon. About the control issues, well, we all have to be thirteen once. We all feel out of control sometimes, even at my age. Hopefully that was the last time you'll have the dream. And don't forget we leave early tomorrow for the choosing…. Oh, did Asa finish his name board?” Loren asked.
Gordon smiled, “Yes, finally. Sky thinks he painted it that morning.”
Loren smiled, “Asa's a funny boy. Goodnight then, the choosing doesn't wait for sleepy boys,” said Loren.
Loren went to his own bedroom. The dream scared Gordon, and he didn't know if he should tell his uncle, but in some ways, it also excited him. It almost felt like flying. It had to mean something, dreaming it so often. Gordon always wondered why his dream ended before he hit ground, or why he woke before he puzzled out what it meant. He had heard that if you died in a dream, you died in real life. He wondered how anyone could know that, since the person dreaming would have died. How could anyone tell what they had been dreaming if they were dead?
Uncle Loren was right, though, he did want to be rested for the choosing. He had been only eight for the last choosing ceremony, and didn't remember much. Gordon tried not to be, but he was getting excited about the choosing after all.
Chapter 3: The Choosing
Loren and Gordon were up at first light. Nearly the whole village was on the road to the choosing with them. Gordon knew how lucky they were to be so close. Some villagers had to make journeys of days and weeks to make it to the choosing on time.
Since everyone was going the same direction, it was strange to see one man leaning against a wall, not moving at all. He was just standing there. Gordon thought the man was staring at Asa's family up ahead, but he couldn't be sure, since there were so many people. He wondered if it was the same hooded man he had seen before, “Loren, do you see that man? Why do you think he's just standing there?”
Loren glanced at the man with little interest, “Attendance isn't required by law. Not everyone is excited about the choosing ceremony. The law requires all thirteen years old put their name in, but the whole world will know who the king is by tomorrow, whether they attend the choosing or not.”
Gordon still thought there was something strange about the man, but he soon forgot. Gordon waved to other friends as he saw their families along the road. Asa's family was way ahead of them now, and Sky's was behind. There were too many people in between to walk together. Besides, Gordon was still eager to discuss the history book he'd finished with his uncle. They discussed many kings and queens on the trip. It didn't seem that long before they were at the courtyard awaiting the ceremony to begin.
Gordon had never seen so many people in one place. There was a kind of excitement from every direction; people were laughing, eating, drinking, and having a good time while they waited. The courtyard still looked huge, even filled with all the people. Gordon looked at the statues of the three sisters standing over the courtyard. The three figures made of white stone all stood for something different. He looked on, trying to remember what each detail of the statue meant. The statue that stood for Freedom was a young woman
with flowing hair. She was clearly running someplace, the movement carved into the beautiful stone. She held a small book in her hand. Gordon always wondered what it was, but even Uncle Loren wasn't sure. The Justice statue was a woman standing still, holding a longknife high in one hand. The other hand held a thick judge's staff. The last statue was an old woman, standing in the center of the two, and stood for Humanity. She had her arms wide and there was a boy and a girl carved on each side of her.
Gordon looked all around at the balconies overlooking the courtyard. There were people seated on both sides of the courtyard, he assumed they were from the two councils. The choosing tower was at the center of the courtyard, the palace entrance behind it. Three loud gongs rose from the third terrace of the palace and bounced around the great courtyard. The crowd began to quiet.
A wooden walkway had been constructed from the first balcony of the palace to the top of the tower. The enormous hole at the top of the tower had been topped by a round wooden stage. Gordon wondered how they had built all of that so fast, since he had just been here a few days before.
There was a rumbling in the crowd that turned into cheers as Firstcouncilor Trunculin emerged from the first balcony. He walked slowly towards the stage, his long robe hiding his feet. Gordon saw men with longknives and arrowmen behind the firstcouncilor. The firstman of the kingdom, Brenddel, stood by Trunculin's side. He knew it was the firstman because of the one inked stripe across each cheek.
At first, Gordon thought it was strange that no guards came out ahead of Trunculin. He excused the thought quickly when Trunculin reached the stage and smiled brightly. The crowds cheered loudly as he raised his arms. No one would hurt Trunculin, he thought, he's the most popular man in the kingdom. Gordon had to stretch his neck to see, as many in the crowd raised their arms in response.
Trunculin, the firstcouncilor to so many kings, gently motioned for the crowd to quiet down. He smiled his famous wide smile, and a large glass jar was set next to Trunculin. It reached to the height of his waist.
The ceremony had begun.
Trunculin announced to the crowd, “Friends, neighbors, subjects of the kingdom of the thirteen, welcome to the solemn choosing of a new king… or, maybe… a queen?” he smiled widely to the crowd. There was a smattering of laughter.
“From the days of our first great kings, through the dark days of war in other lands, older kingdoms have fallen away. But our kingdom stands proudly, stronger than ever! The first thirteen kings came and put this great system in place so long ago. Knowing the darkness of their own hearts as men, they formed the amazing idea: After their rule, let the wickedness of men fall away. Let the innocent child lead us. Let the child shape the future that is theirs to command!” said Trunculin.
A great cheer rose from the crowd. Gordon couldn't believe the sound of the crowd cheering as one.
Trunculin continued, “As the great kings said: Let the child that has grown up in innocence, in this great kingdom, put their name in this tower. Since that child has not yet been corrupted by the evil ways of men, let one be chosen king. Only through innocence can we find strength!”
The sound of the cheering crowd got louder. Then there was another sound, a kind of humming sound.
Gordon got close to Loren's ear so that he could ask, “Loren, what is that sound?”
Loren did not answer, but pointed his finger toward the edge of the courtyard, up to the sky. Gordon was one of the first to see the large shape coming over the wall of the courtyard. Only a moment later, the rest of the crowd started to see, and the cheers got even louder.
Trunculin continued, “…and let that child who leads us, lead the greatest kingdom ever seen! The only kingdom with the power to fly!”
The large shape overshadowed the courtyard. The airship seemed enormous, probably because it was so close to the crowds. Gordon could see the tips of the large arrow guns all around the square deck. The flat deck hung from ropes, suspended from the giant gas-filled ship above. It didn't stop to hover, but kept floating over them until it passed out of sight. It had made its intended impression. Gordon wondered if he might be witnessing the greatest choosing of his lifetime.
Trunculin called for calm again only with his gestures, “Let us begin,” Trunculin reached into the great glass jar next to him. The jar contained strips of paper with names on it.
“As you all know,” Trunculin began, “the eight year olds of our great kingdom have their own type of choosing, putting their names here to have a chance to choose the new king.”
He put his arm deep into the scraps of paper and pulled out a name, “Sanjee, would you come join me for the choosing?”
Though the crowd was enormous, later everyone would claim that they heard the gasp from the little girl Sanjee. Gordon could see movement far into the crowd to his left. Soon, the eight year old girl Sanjee slowly made her way up the tower steps. She was shaking and shyly came up to Trunculin. He bent down and she whispered something in his ear. Trunculin smiled broadly and said to the crowd, “Sanjee asks if I could pick someone else!”
The crowd roared with laughter and cheers. Trunculin put his arm around the girl's shoulders and said, “Sanjee, I think that question makes you more than worthy for this task.” The crowd roared again. Sanjee offered a small smile.
“Since the beginning, a boy or girl of eight is asked to choose the door and pick out the name board of our new king. After the new king's fifth trial, this girl will be thirteen and will place her own name in the tower. Sanjee will now choose the door number from this bowl, thus revealing our new king.”
A small glass bowl with thirteen bits of paper was given to Trunculin by a guard. Trunculin bent over, and offered the bowl to Sanjee, “Let's find out who our new king or queen shall we, hey little one?”
The crowd roared their approval like a beast alive. Gordon leaned over to Loren, “The firstcouncilor sure knows his audience, doesn't he?”
Loren issued a low chuckle and stared ahead, “Yes, Gordon, he certainly does.”
The girl reached into the bowl and pulled out a small paper number. Sanjee whispered in Trunculin's ear, and he smiled again, “She wants me to read the number!”
Trunculin had to calm the crowd down again before he spoke, “Very well, Sanjee, we go to the last door, number thirteen! A very fateful number.” The girl, Trunculin and the firstman Brenddel proceeded down a few steps to door number thirteen.
The firstman gave the large key ring to Trunculin with the thirteenth key first. Trunculin turned the lock and a jumbled pile of wooden name boards could be seen through the opening. The girl put her hand in the door and pull out a name board.
She showed it to Trunculin. The girl said something else, but Trunculin shook his head. They both stood facing the crowd. Apparently the girl would read the name herself.
Trunculin scanned over the crowd, but he was not smiling as widely as he had been. Gordon began to wonder what the expression on Trunculin's face meant, but the crowd had erupted with shouts.
“Gordon!” a man shouted from near him. Gordon looked at his uncle. Loren's face had gone pale, and his mouth was open. He stared at Gordon when another man shouted, “Gordon!?”
Then everyone seemed to be shouting his name. The girl must have said the name wrong, he thought. Gordon started to feel light headed. He worried that it was a sweetblood reaction. Do I need something to eat? He thought. He turned back to his uncle.
Before he could form another thought, hands were grabbing him in all directions. He felt lighter than air. The crowd was lifting him up and passing him to the tower, like he was a boat on a sea of people. My people now? He thought briefly. No, this is a mistake. But they had not stopped shouting his name.
He got to the tower and the firstman Brenddel took his arm and lifted Gordon up to the steps by door number thirteen. The man was incredibly strong, and Gordon nearly flew up to the steps, like he weighed nothing at all. He hoped he would not fall and look foolish as he stood there on wobbl
ing legs. He thought of the king that had fallen from this very stage, and swallowed hard.
Trunculin took Gordon's hand and bent at the waist. He said, “Congratulations, my king.”
Gordon didn't know what to say. He was about to speak when Trunculin stood upright, raised Gordon's hand in the air and announced to the crowd, “Your… new… king… Gordon!” Gordon noticed that the old familiar smile was back on Trunculin's face.
The cheering from the crowds seemed to go on forever. Gordon kept looking over the crowd, trying to find a familiar face. He scanned where his uncle Loren should have been, but he couldn't find him.
He also looked for his friends, but the crowd was too big. He was sure he heard Skyler shout his name, but Gordon couldn't see him anywhere.
Sanjee whispered something else to Trunculin, “She wants to know if she can kiss the new king's cheek!”
Gordon looked to the girl and smiled. He bent down and the girl kissed him quickly on the cheek. She blushed and Gordon was sure he was blushing too. Just then, the crowd started to go quiet and uneasy. Gordon was sure he had done something wrong.
He looked at the crowd, who were all looking behind Gordon. Along the newly erected walkway, guards were marching in. He wondered briefly if the temporary wooden walkway was going to collapse as it shook with their marching.
The soldiers came right up to Gordon. They were not smiling. They stopped and made a kind of shout, “Knives up!” At the signal, they all stepped back and faced each other, raising their longknives. It formed a corridor through which appeared the current ruler. King Stathen was a young, handsome twenty-two and the only king Gordon could remember.
Stathen was not smiling either.
He walked through the guard's archway of longknives and came to within a foot of Gordon's face. King Stathen glared down at Gordon, who hoped he didn't look as terrified as he felt. The king said nothing at first, but slowly shook his head and then turned to the crowds, “Was I this short when I was chosen?”
