The memory made him smile. I thought you couldn’t see anything.
That lace veil had a few cutouts here and there. I could see in places. When I stood still.
Well, thanks for sparing me from having to walk up that aisle, at least.
I did not design the wedding ceremony, Achan. Nor this one.
The floor is cold. Why can’t I wear my boots?
The footprints are part of the ceremony.
Right. I’ve not had this many people stare at me since Sir Gavin dragged me before the Council.
I am glad he did.
Achan sighed and shook his head at all that had led to this moment. As am I.
Finally Achan and Sparrow reached the satin-upholstered thrones. The chairs sat side by side on a raised dais of solid whitestone. Achan glanced at the impressions in the stone. The footprints of King Echâd Hadar.
“You come to lay claim to this throne and realm?” Toros Ianjo’s voice pulled Achan’s gaze away from the footprints. Toros stood on the upper dais, behind the thrones, dressed in white robes embroidered with the three interlocking red circles on the front. He also wore a tall, golden hat.
Achan lifted his head. “I do.”
“Identify yourself.”
“I am Achan Cham, born Gidon Hadar to King Axel Hadar.”
“King Axel was king before you. You come to take his place?”
“I do.”
“Then stand in his steps and in the steps of his forefathers all the way back to King Echâd Hadar, the first king of Er’Rets.”
Achan gave Sparrow’s hand one last trembling squeeze, then had to release her so they could turn around. They faced each other a moment as they rotated slowly, allowing their train-bearers to move those massive capes over the arm of each throne.
Once they faced the audience, Achan took Sparrow’s hand again, then they stepped backward up onto the whitestone dais. Achan slid his feet back over the smooth stone until he felt the indentation of the footprints. He glanced down, matching his feet to the grooves like pieces of a puzzle. Heat trickled down his spine to his toes.
King Echâd had stood in this place, as had every other king of Er’Rets, some two dozen men.
And now him.
Arman, help me.
BUT YOU, MY SERVANT, ACHAN, WHOM I HAVE CHOSEN, I TOOK YOU FROM THE ENDS OF ER’RETS, FROM ITS FARTHEST CORNERS I CALLED YOU. I SAID, ‘YOU ARE MY SERVANT’; I HAVE CHOSEN YOU. SO DO NOT FEAR, FOR I AM WITH YOU. I WILL STRENGTHEN YOU AND HELP YOU; I WILL UPHOLD YOU WITH MY RIGHTEOUS RIGHT HAND.
Achan shuddered in the heat of that promise. Thank You, Arman. You are so good to me.
Toros walked down Achan’s side of the dais, circled where Achan’s cape lay spread on the mosaic pavement, and stopped before the thrones, facing the audience.
The music ceased.
Nausea rolled about in Achan’s stomach. He squeezed Sparrow’s hand. I think I might be ill.
Be ill later in your chambers.
Our chambers.
She sent him a look as if to say, “You exasperate me.”
He grinned.
Prince Oren, Sir Gavin, Sir Caleb, and Sir Eagan walked before Toros in a diamond formation and turned their backs to each other so they were facing outward. The drums started in on a military march, and the men began to walk. Prince Oren limped down the aisle with his cane. Sir Eagan took three steps and stopped, facing Achan and Sparrow. And Sir Caleb and Sir Gavin marched straight until they reached the east and west walls.
The drumming stopped.
Toros spoke then, his voice loud and authoritative. “I hereby present unto the people of this great land, King Gidon Hadar, the Great Cham, Ransomed by Câan, Servant of Arman, Son of Axel, and your undoubted King. Beside him sits his bride, Queen Averella Amal of Carmine. Wherefore all of you have come this day to pay homage and service to this king and queen, I ask you, land of Er’Rets, are you willing to do the same?”
The entire congregation shouted, “Arman save the king!”
Achan jumped. Sir Caleb had prepped him for this, but the chorus of voices, in unison, all proclaiming him king made him tremble.
Then Toros said, “I ask you, land of Er’Rets, are you willing to do the same?”
Prince Oren, still facing the door, yelled, “The people from here to the south say they will.”
Sir Caleb said, “The people from here to the east say they will.”
Sir Gavin: “The people from here to the west say they will.”
And Sir Eagan said, with a wink to his daughter, “The people from here to the north say they will.”
The four men turned and walked back to the center, then returned to their original places at the front of the audience.
Toros turned to face Achan and smiled. “Will you, King Gidon Hadar, son of Axel, solemnly promise and swear to govern the peoples of Er’Rets according to its laws and customs?”
Achan said the first of several lines Sir Caleb had made him memorize. “I solemnly promise to do so.”
“Will you cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”
“I will.”
“Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of Arman and the true profession of the Book of Life?”
“All this I promise to do, so help me, Arman.”
Prince Oren then approached, carrying a thick book. The Book of Arman. He handed it to Achan, who took it in both hands. “Here is wisdom and the mouthpiece of Arman, the most valuable thing this land has to offer.”
Achan slid the book onto a shelf under his throne, then said, “Upon Arman’s word I will always sit, stand, and rule this land. For it is the only foundation that is unshakable.” Achan looked to Sparrow, nodded, and together they sat.
Then Prince Oren, Sir Gavin, Sir Eagan, and Sir Caleb returned, this time each holding a pole of a square canopy made of golden brocade. They positioned themselves so that the canopy covered Achan and Sparrow.
A servant carried a glass jar to Toros, who held it up, then stepped before Achan. “King Gidon Hadar, by the authority of Arman, I anoint you with oil that has been consecrated. As King Echâd, the first king was anointed, so be you anointed, blessed, and consecrated King over all the peoples of Er’Rets, whom Arman has given you to rule and govern, in the name of Arman, may it be so.” He tipped the jar over Achan’s head. The cool oil tickled Achan’s scalp, ran down behind one ear, down his left cheek, and streamed off the front of his hair.
Toros then placed his hand on Achan’s head. “King Gidon Hadar, by the authority of Arman, I lay my hand upon your head, seal, and confirm the anointing and herby pronounce a blessing upon your life and reign.”
Toros closed his eyes and began to pray, “Holy Arman, the exalter of the humble and the strength of thy chosen King, bless and sanctify Your servant Gidon, who by Your call and our agreement was anointed with this oil and consecrated King. Grant Your servant the spirit of wisdom and government, that being devoted to You with his whole heart, he may govern wisely, that his time in this office may be in safety, persevering in good works unto the end, and by Your mercy and timing, come into Your everlasting kingdom. May it be as I have said.”
The audience voiced their agreement.
Then Toros anointed Sparrow and prayed a similar blessing over her. She squeezed Achan’s hand the entire time, but did not speak to his mind.
Prince Oren and the knights carried the canopy away. Toros then faced the audience and asked them to stand.
A young man approached carrying a pillow with a huge crown on top. The pillow had a strap, which the man wore around his neck. The crown looked heavy indeed, made of gold and red velvet and encrusted with hundreds of jewels. A second young man followed, gripping a staff in one hand. It was as tall as the man carrying it, made of dark wood and topped with an ivory carving of the two-headed eagle, the symbol of the Hadar name. Golden rings were spaced around the staff, one for every king who had ruled Er’Rets.
Toros too
k the crown from the pillow and lifted it in the air. “Arman, we offer up this crown, and Your servant Gidon upon whose head You will place it, as a sign of royal majesty, that he may be filled by Your abundant grace and all kingly virtues. In Your eternal name, may it be so.”
Toros placed the crown on Achan’s head, simultaneously stealing Achan’s breath. The crown was stiff and heavy. It sank onto his head, stopped by some inner lining that kept it from falling over his eyes.
Toros then took the scepter from the boy and held it before Achan. “Arman, we offer up this scepter, and Your servant, Gidon, in whose hand You will place it, as a sign of his authority, that he may rule with this scepter and not a sword. In Your eternal name, may it be so.”
Toros passed the scepter to Achan. He took hold of the smooth wood.
Another young man approached from Sparrow’s side. He too held a pillow that carried a crown almost identical to Achan’s. Toros took the crown and offered a prayer for it, then placed it on Sparrow’s head.
A layer of tears coated Achan’s eyes. He blinked them away and squeezed Sparrow’s hand, thankful she sat beside him, loved him.
Toros said another prayer, or maybe he was talking to the audience. All Achan knew was that he had no more lines to recite. He stared ahead into nothingness, ready for this service to end, remembering all that had taken place to get him here.
A chorus of “Arman save the king! Arman save the queen!” jolted Achan’s mind back to the present.
Toros turned and knelt before the thrones. “I, Toros Ianjo, priest of Arman, will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, my Sovereign Lord, King of this Realm and Defender of the Faith, and unto your heirs and successors according to law. So help me Arman.”
Then, one by one, the audience came to swear fealty.
At first it was humbling, like that day Prince Oren, Sir Rigil, and Bran had sworn fealty to Achan in the Council chambers in Mahanaim. But the numbers never seemed to dwindle. Drowsiness plagued Achan. He tried to disguise his yawns and keep his eyes from drooping, but kept failing.
The trill of the drums and heralding of the bugles was mercy indeed.
Achan and Sparrow stood and exited the throne room. The day was far from over. Now it was to the great hall for the coronation banquet.
How fare you, my king? Sparrow asked.
Desperate for sleep.
Food will hopefully bring you the energy you need to make it through the rest of this day.
I hope so. I would hate to fall asleep on my trencher.
Sir Caleb promised me a week of rest starting tomorrow.
He promised me as well, and I intend to hold him to it.
She stepped closer to walk beside him through the doorway leading out to the grand staircase. Then hold on but a little longer, my king. For we have the rest of our lives to rest, but only this one day to celebrate our crowns.
Mine is heavy. Is yours?
It is a weight I can bear only with you by my side.
Achan smiled. I would kiss you, but I fear the crown would fall off. Can you imagine it rolling down the stairs?
That would be a sight to behold.
You are a sight to behold.
She pursed her lips. With words like those, we shall never rest.
I can live with that.
THE END
A Note from the Author
Thanks for reading From Darkness Won.
As always, I love to hear from you. E-mail me at [email protected] with your thoughts on the book or questions about writing.
Keep an eye out for my next book tentatively titled Jason Farms, a young adult science fiction/suspense novel which releases from Zonderkidz sometime in 2012. Join my Facebook fan page or sign up for my author ezine at www.jillwilliamson.com to stay posted on this and other new projects.
If you’d like to help make this trilogy a success, tell people about it. Loan your books to friends, give them as gifts, and ask your library or bookstore to order it. Also, posting a review on Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com is always very helpful.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to God, Brad, Luke, and Kaitlyn, who love me in spite of my numerous flaws.
And thanks to: Jeff Gerke, a fabulous editor and writing instructor. To Nicole O’Dell, Shirley Fruchey, Stephanie Gallentine, Adele Haijeck, Leighton Hajicek, Ness Hajicek, Chris Kolmorgen, Amy Meyer, Xavier Meyer, Diana Sharples, and Kathy Tyers for reading my book and/or helping me make it work. To my ladies’ Bible study group for praying for me. To Steve Taylor, Peter Furler, and the Newsboys for the song He Reigns, which inspired the ending for the battle against Darkness.
And to Greg Bremner, whom I forgot to thank in book two for all his help with hunting birds and killing bears, and for his help with fires in this book. Greg, you are a gold mine of information. You are John Wayne!
And to my readers, thanks for reading Achan and Vrell’s story.
Q&A with Jill Williamson
The following is part one of a two-part interview of questions sent in by readers. The second half of the interview can be heard online. See the end of the interview for details on the podcast.
Q: What made you decide to write the Blood of Kings trilogy?
I saw a tree in the front yard of a burned-down house. The part of the tree that hung over the fence and above the street was leafy green, rocking and rustling in the wind. But the branches of the tree inside the yard were charred and stiff. I couldn’t wait to write a story about a land that was partially cursed in darkness and went home and Photoshopped the image of the tree on my author website.
Q: How did you come up with the idea for bloodvoices?
I needed a way that my girl character could learn that my boy character had royal blood. I thought it would be cool if those with royal blood had some telepathic ability to sense others like them. I first called it Blood Vision. Then I changed the name to Qoldam, which is Hebrew for bloodvoices (qowl—voices, and daum—blood). But Qoldam was difficult to pronounce, so I ended up calling it bloodvoicing.
Q: Why did you use Hebrew instead of inventing words like so many fantasy writers?
I stole the idea from J.K. Rowling. She used Latin for many of her character names and most of her magic spells in the Harry Potter books. I thought that was clever, so when I was brainstorming this book, I looked on my bookshelf and saw a French dictionary and a Hebrew/Greek concordance. I thought Hebrew/Greek sounded more like a fantasy novel. Plus, I liked the idea of using words from the Bible.
Q: The whole “storming” idea is very similar to Native American shamanistic beliefs, where if someone was sick, the shaman had to leave his body and go find their spirit. Did you get the idea from a similar source or invent it?
I know nothing about Native American shamanistic beliefs. Storming came about as a natural progression of the magic of bloodvoicing. In each book, characters proclaimed a bit more about how the magic worked, then I had to work out the details.
Q: Why is Vrell fair when so many others are tan? What is her lineage? It’s not Kinsman, right?
Vrell’s heritage is part Kinsman, part Poroo. I created five races of people for this series. Native to Er’Rets are the Poroo (white skin), who inhabited the north, and giants, who lived in the south. Kinsmen (brown skin) came to Er’Rets from the southeast, the Chuma (olive skin) came from the southwest, and the Otherlings (grey skin) came from the northwest.
Q: Is Er’Rets an island in the middle of a huge ocean? Are its inhabitants aware of any lands beyond?
Yes and yes. At first I thought of Er’Rets as more like a continent, but based on my map scale, the land is only a bit larger than the state of Nevada. Some Er’Retians know there is land beyond since King Echâd came to Er’Rets from elsewhere almost 600 almost years before the story takes place. I never really thought about what else is out there, but I suspect the pirates in Hamonah could tell you.
Q: How is Achan such a nice person when he was abused and neglected in his childh
ood?
Achan’s friendship with Gren Fenny had an incredible influence on his life. She rescued him from being alone. She taught him to swim and was kind to him. Told him that he should be treated well. That he was worth more. And that inspired him. He wanted to be to others what she had been to him. Plus, he saw her parents interact and how they loved each other and hoped that he might have such a family someday. Agape love is a powerful thing.
Q: There is so much detail in your world, how do you keep track of it all?
I have a large, 3-ring binder in which I keep everything important. I have maps, a timeline, family trees, sketches, character charts, city charts, lists of herbs and their healing properties, lists of Hebrew words and translations, pictures of weapons, facts about horses, and notes about medieval architecture. I go to that binder often to reference details for the story. It’s a great tool. I have similar folders for other books I’ve written, though only the Blood of Kings trilogy has needed to move to a 3-ring binder.
Q: When you wrote the ending did you think you might be giving too much detail after the story was basically over?
Yeah. Jeff and I talked about whether to cut out the wedding and coronation. But we ultimately decided that the readers had earned the chance to be there after so many pages of Achan and Vrell not being together. And my teen readers wanted me to leave the ceremonies in, claiming they provided the perfect time for the reader to calm down without making the ending feel abrupt.
Q: Will you write more books about Er’Rets?
Perhaps. There are so many interesting places we never got to see: Jaelport, Hamonah, Nesos, Cherem, Magos, Land’s End… I always thought a story about the war between Cherem and Magos would be fun to write, as would a story about Jibhal Hamartano and the start of the black knights. We’ll see.
To hear more fan questions answered and more behind the scenes information check out this podcast interview with Jill Williamson from the folks at Fiction Addict:
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