Chapter 39; The First Coronation
Zeer took Beor aside, “Cousin, thee has served the Clan MacTarn faithfully. I have one more task to ask of thee…”
“I know…get the throne down here pronto…”
He looked at her closely to ensure that she understood. “These are yer orders, Admiral, Dead silent… deep cover… before Even Song!”
She bowed, “By your command, Prince.” A small group of Paronese Guardians had accompanied Zeer to help in the transition. He assigned them to his cousin’s patrol, and they all left together. It took slightly more than an arn for the crew to return. Tristan was waiting as they landed the huey. Using antigrav sleds, they carried the covered object into the newly finished throne room to await their new King.
When all that was in place, Zeer called mentally, “Trevor?”
“Yes, yer Grace?”
“Please come quietly to St. Paddy’s…tell Janni to bring her stuff.”
“By your Command!”
“Thankee.”
“Uh, Prince?”
“Yes, Little Brother?”
“Can ya get us a grounder?”
“I’ll have Tristan pick you guys up. We’ll say it’s a story about our new kits birth.”
“Aye, Play it down.”
Zeer knew they would come. They had a pretty dull schedule back at the Media Building downtown. As he had expected, Trevor and Janni had just posted their nzed reports and were sitting around the news lounge. Being the only Paronese present, he was the only one who got the message. He stretched his arms and yawned, “Well, nothing much happenin’ here. Baby, you look like you could use a little nappy.”
Janni was sitting with her swollen feet up, “Oh you! You’re just tryin ta have your way with me.”
A grizzled newsie doing a cross word puzzle looked up, “Chicky…he already had his way with you one too many times.” This was followed by hoots and cackles all over the room.
Trevor picked her camera bag, “Phillistines! Youse guys wouldn’t know true love if it bit yas on yer butts! I’ll take this. We can’t leave any valuables here. These pirates will steal us blind if’n we do.”
He helped her out of her chair. They walked nonchalantly toward the lifts. He punched lift button for the grounder pool instead of their room upstairs. Paul’s grounder was waiting as promised.
Now, Janni’s senses perked up. “A grounder, lover boy?” She dropped into Par Cat pidgeon standard (which he hated) “Janni missy snuggles. No wanna snuggles?”
“This is way better than snuggles, dear wife. I’ve just been mind talked to by the Father Visitor Himself.”
“Well, dear hoosband, get shakin’! Let’s see what’s bakin’ with the Royals!!!”
“That kind of talk is why I am in front of the camera, and you are silently behind it.”
As promised, Tristan was waiting, “Hey, Tris!”
“Hey, kids. Let’s go!”
They proceeded without incident to the Cathedral. “We’re outside, Father.”
“Excellent, go into the main chapel and set up for the shots of your life. Set your equipment to save. No live shots.”
“Roger that!”
Janni had learned to read the look on Trevor’s face. “What’d he say?”
“He said to go to the main chapel and set up for the shots of our life.”
“Well, he’s never been wrong yet.” They set up her stuff and waited.
They looked around, “Sayyy, I’ve never seen this place empty.”
“Right!” What they didn’t see was that the front doors were locked behind the last congregant. A ‘Closed for Cleaning’ sign placed outside. In a moment a bell rang deep inside the sacristy. Janni began to film a row of priests processing slowly down the center aisle. They were swinging incense balls to purify the air of the chapel. When they got to the front, they split into two lines and stood facing the back of the church. Zeer appeared from a side door and stood in the center.
Four Guardians entered from a rear door. They were carrying a golden chair. On the chair was a gaunt figure so covered with finery, they couldn’t make out the identity or even if the figure was alive. The Guardians reached the front of the aisle, stopped and gently lowered the chair. They helped the thin figure forward to the rail. Painfully, whoever this was, hobbled to the Communion rail and kneeled.
Janni panned in for a close up, “Holy Mother…Black Patch MacTarn!!!” she whispered. Trevor and Janni mouthed that name to each other, but she kept filming.
Zeer put his hands gently on his head, “Shannon MacTarn…”
“Do thee Swear by the Emerald Sword to faithfully lead Your people.”
“With the Master’s help, I so swear!” He kissed the sword and it was strapped to his side.
“Okay, let’s go!” Shannon climbed back on the golden chair. The Guardians picked it up and proceed to a hidden doorway, down a hall and into a back doorway that connected the castle to the Cathedral. Janni was following and taping the entire scene. Behind them the doors are quietly unlocked and the few waiting to pray were let in none the wiser for what they just missed.
Outside of the throne room, Shannon found him self once again on the floor ready to walk in. Zeer draped the MacTarn tartan over his shoulder, “This is the sign to all that a MacTarn sits again on a free Emerald Throne.”
“Aye,“ the old man on the throne croaked, “S’bout time, too!” Everyone around them laughed.
At the sound of the pipes and the drums, they began the final procession into the newly renovated room. Inside were the remnants of Emerish Royalty. Many were in tartans that they had not worn or even seen for decades. They began to applaud as their King slowly made his way around the room to the slow beat and the highland tunes and then, to climb, leaning heavily on Zeer’s strong arm for support, the three steps to the top and sat in the Emerald Throne, shining in the evening light.
Zeer turned to an old man with a long staff beaming in the front of the crowd. “Avis, are thee ready?”
“Yes, ma Prince. The Clan MacLaren has stood at ready for half a century.” (more laughter)
He was Avis MacLaren, Exchequer of the Crown, Keeper of the Family Jewels. His father had hidden them when the Frogs had attacked. The Frogs had tortured him and any others they could catch, but no one either admitted that there were jewels or told where they were hidden. They had released Avis’ father just before he expired. The map to the hiding places of all of these relics had been placed in his teen aged hands with his father’s last breath.
Avis’s son, decked in MacLaren gold and green reverently held an intricately carved wooden box. His father opened it. He took from it a golden crown. He held it high, “Behold, the Crown of Emerand!” The crowd applauded as he handed it to Zeer. Zeer put it gently on his brother’s head. He turned to the crowd. Every man woman and child dropped to one knee. “I present King Shannon MacTarn! Long may he reign!”
The room erupted in cheers. Shannon raised the jewel sword, but he couldn’t hold it up. It slipped from his fingers and Zeer deftly picked it out of the air. He turned to his brother just as the King’s head fell forward. He put his hand on his brother’s chest to hold him in place. Even through all the finery, he felt no heart beat. He knelt and put his head on his brother’s lap. Paris rushed to him and put her arms around her husband. She pulled him away, and he went into her arms crying like a child sitting on the top step.
“We did it!,” he said softly through his tears.
“Aye laddie buck, ya did!” Zeer spoke mentally to the voice, “Dad!” I thought you had crossed over?”
“The Son let me back through the veil ta accompany ma wee Shanny on his last trip.”
“Is he there with you?”
“Aye and his feet are whole and the burn scars are gone. We are who we were, and we are fine.”
“G’bye, Da’…” Paris joined the conversation, “G’bye ya old pirate!”
The voice grew fainter, “Love ya, fur face…take care of
the King and ma wee bairns!”
Paris and Zeer hugged and rocked and cried for joy and loss all at once.
Preacher Man Page 62
