by Anne Logston
“In Bregond,” she said gently, “it is the custom for husband and wife to share their quarters. I thank you for your kindness, but although I was no more prepared for this marriage than you, it is my intention to honor my vows in every way, and strive to be the best wife and High Lady that I can be.”
Randon smiled in relief.
“Thank you, lady. I begin to believe the Bright Ones have blessed me with a most exceptional bride.”
Kayli had to smile again. No, she was not so exceptional. But given time, hard work and Brisi’s grimoires, she would be.
“I thank you,” she said quietly. “Is there time to change my clothing before the ceremony? I had a gown made from the fabric you sent, and I would wear it for our wedding.”
“Of course, there’s time,” Randon assured her. “I’ll speak to the council and have everything prepared for the ceremony. It’s midafternoon now; can you be ready at sunset?”
In Bregond, weddings would have been performed at dawn or moonrise; a sunset wedding would be considered inauspicious. Obviously the Agrondish thought differently.
“I will be ready at sunset,” Kayli said. “Where will the ritual be held?”
“In the great hall,” Randon told her. “Ordinarily it would be held on the front steps; it’s our custom that the bride and groom step over the threshold of their home together. But that’s best saved for the large ceremony later.”
Or perhaps best avoided in case the bride must be set aside for another. Either Randon truly believed that Kayli would be the wife to bear his heirs, or he was trying to spare her feelings; either way, Kayli was warmed by the gesture.
“Is there any special preparation I should make for your ceremony?” Randon asked as Kayli rose to leave.
“In Bregond you would have a dagger specially made and consecrated, unless you belonged to an Order and had your own thari,” Kayli said. “But we can share my thari. Such a minor infringement of custom is acceptable.”
“Very well, then.” Randon took her hand and bowed deeply over it. “Until sunset, lady.”
“Until sunset,” Kayli said, feeling awkward and stiff once more. She hurriedly retreated, glad to return to her room.
Endra was, to Kayli’s surprise, not dismayed to learn how soon the wedding was to take place.
“Better sooner than later,” she said practically. “Your gown’s loose on you now. Much longer and you’d have fasted yourself down to a pile of rattling bones. Best have it done.”
At the sudden realization that the waiting was over, that she was shortly going to marry a stranger and share her bed with him that very night, Kayli felt a flash of panic. Here truly was the end of all she’d known. She looked down; to her disgust, her hands were shaking. “Oh, Endra, what will I do?” she said quietly, although she wanted to scream. “I am so frightened.”
“Why, of course you’re frightened, pet,” Endra said soothingly, stroking Kayli’s hair. “I’ve never met a new bride who wasn’t, unless she’d had a few barn-loft tumbles beforehand. Your sister Jaenira cried and shook before her wedding until I potioned her to sleep. But I have an answer for new brides.”
”Oh, please, no more potions,” Kayli groaned as Endra set a cup in front of her.
“No potion, my lady, only a cup of broth with herbs to fortify you,” Endra said sternly. “Though I’ve often thought it might be a mercy to give bride and groom both a good dose of Midnight Dew in these arranged matches. Seems like lords and ladies lay a heavy enough burden on their children’s wedding nights. Of course they’d never agree to dosing their children with love potions; besides, I doubt if there’s enough Midnight Dew in the Three Kingdoms. No, the answer is simpler—just remember that however terrified you are, Lord Randon is just as frightened.”
“I fail to see how he could be afraid,” Kayli said irritably. “Lord Randon has had more than a ‘few barn-loft tumbles’ if the rumors are true.”
“Well, that’s all to the good, too,” Endra said placidly. “At least your husband knows the lay of the land, so to speak. A pity you couldn’t have had your Awakening before now, but there it is, and you’d have been every bit as nervous for that. So if it helps, imagine you’re going to your Awakening, but in a fancier gown. There you are.” She tied off the last lacing.
Kayli surveyed herself critically in the mirror. The rich red gown with its gold trim, the gold collar and earrings with their deep red stones made her dusky skin seem golden itself. The gold combs glistened against the loops of her shining black hair, but the golden glints in her deep brown eyes were brighter still. She took a deep breath and swallowed her fear.
“Is it nearly sunset?” she asked.
“Soon.” Endra glanced out the window. “I’ll move your things to the lord’s room as soon as you go down.”
“Oh, no,” Kayli said quickly, clutching the midwife’s hand. “Please, you must come to the ceremony. Please.”
Endra chuckled.
“Very well, then, lady, if you wish, though I don’t know how these folk will take to a servant at a private wedding. Go on, then, and I’ll give the girls their orders and come down.”
Kayli wished desperately that the midwife would walk down with her, but she said nothing. She clutched her thari in its sheath and felt a small measure of comfort.
I judge this blade well forged.
A guard waited outside the door to escort her down. She hoped that after the wedding that could be changed; guards waiting at her door and dogging her every footstep would be intolerable, and the need for them spoke poorly of security.
Kayli had not seen Agrond’s great hall before, and her first glimpse both impressed and disappointed her. The hall was far larger than that of her father’s castle and much more richly ornamented with tapestries, rugs, and expensive metals, but the ceiling was far lower and the room less brightly lit, too, making it seem somehow smaller and meaner. Half a dozen men and women sat at the large table, presumably the High Lord’s advisers.
Randon, Terralt, and a tiny, pale woman, heavily pregnant, waited by the door, standing near a litter holding Brother San-tee. Beside the litter stood a strangely dressed priest, and a younger fair-haired man, more plainly robed, knelt at Brother Santee’s side.
“My lady,” Terralt said, bowing and taking Kayli’s hand. “Such beauty dazzles me.” He turned to the pregnant woman, pulling Kayli with him. “I make known to you my wife, Ynea.”
Kayli’s cheeks flamed with humiliation, but to pull her hand from Terralt’s now would appear as if she had cause to feel guilty, so she simply turned to Ynea and extended her free hand.
“Lady Ynea,” she said, giving the deep bow of respect she had not accorded Terralt. “I am honored to meet you.”
“I—the honor is mine, Lady Kayli,” Ynea said, stammering a little as if surprised. Despite the thinness and pallor that spoke of ill health, the lady was astonishingly beautiful, with large dark eyes and the delicate, fine bones that made Kayli feel gangling and coarse-featured.
Randon took Kayli’s hand from Terralt, to Kayli’s relief. “Lady Ynea is of a scholarly nature, like yourself,” Randon said. “The two of you might have much to discuss.”
“Yes, I—” Ynea glanced at Terralt, flushed, and lowered her eyes. “I’d welcome the companionship.”
Terralt turned away from his wife, as if dismissing her, took Kayli’s arm again, and turned her bodily toward the robed man near Brother Santee.
“This is Stevann, our healer,” Terralt said. “He’s been tending your priest—and you, of course, while you were ill.”
This time Kayli did pull her arm from Terralt’s, occasioning a grin from the lord. Kayli ignored it and bowed to the healer.
“I am honored to meet you, Br—Lord Stevann,” Kayli said. “I thank you for your care.”
“You’re most welcome, lady,” Stevann said, his smile lighting pleasant light brown eyes. “But I’m afraid I’m entitled to neither your bow nor the title ‘lord.’ I’m of frightfully
common birth.”
For a moment Kayli was silent with confusion. She’d addressed Stevann as “lord” only because she knew that outside Bregond, mages were not trained in holy orders. But surely the mere achievement of sufficient magical skill to serve a High Lord demanded respect even in Agrond. High Priestess Brisi herself had been the daughter of simple herdsfolk.
“Forgive me,” Kayli said at last. “In Bregond we honor mages regardless of their birth.” She bowed again, this time the half bow of an equal. “May I then address you as Brother Stevann, as I would a Bregondish mage who has left his temple?”
Stevann smiled again.
“I’d find it flattering,” he said. “Thank you, lady. Are you well today?”
“Quite,” Kayli said quickly. “But Brother Santee, how does he fare?”
“He took an arrow in his back,” Stevann said, shaking his head. “He should be resting, but he said he’d sooner die than see this wedding performed improperly. Lords, lady, I’d thank you to hasten the ritual so he can go back to his room.”
“Of course,” Randon said quickly. “If Calder’s ready.”
The strange priest looked up from a scroll he was reading and grimaced. “I think so, my lord,” he said. “I’ve studied the ceremony as best I could. Please forgive me, Lady Kayli, if Brother Santee must prompt me. If you’ll come to the hearth?”
Kayli followed Randon to the hearth, surprised that he did not present her to his advisers at the table. They watched her, she thought, rather dubiously; had Terralt, or her own actions, turned them against her? But there was no time to fret now.
Guards lifted Brother Santee’s litter and carried it forward so that the priest was beside and slightly behind Kayli. Of course; he must take Brisi’s place and give the temple’s permission for her to wed.
Lord Calder performed the Agrondish ceremony first; to Kayli’s surprise, he spoke not in Agrondish, but some other language of which she understood not a single word. There was a long listing of titles and lands, she guessed that much, but she could only repeat what the priest bade her say, disturbed by the idea that she did not even know what vows she made. But she couldn’t refuse, so did the meaning of the vows truly matter?
Kayli was surprised to feel Randon’s hand trembling in hers; glancing sideways, she saw that his lips were white and tight.
Why, Endra was right, Kayli thought suddenly. He is as frightened as I. She wanted to squeeze his hand reassuringly, but did not; if he shared Terralt’s pride, her acknowledgment of his fear might humiliate him.
The Agrondish ceremony, unlike the Bregondish one, involved an exchange of tokens; after their vows, Randon slipped a bracelet of gold and silver twined together over her wrist and handed her another thicker bracelet, which she then slid over his hand. Likely the twined silver and gold symbolized the joining of man and woman. Was she silver or gold?
At last the long, strange ceremony was over, and Lord Calder closed his heavy book and took out the scroll which seemed to contain the Bregondish ritual.
“This business of the knife—” Lord Calder said hesitantly. “Lady Kayli, you have it?”
Kayli drew her thari in its sheath through the slit in her skirt and handed it to the priest, hilt first
“The blade has been cleaned and consecrated by fire,” she said, “and blessed by the High Priestess of the Order of Inner Flame. As Randon has no thari, mine alone will suffice.”
“Very well,” Lord Calder said. “Then I’ll begin.”
Kayli gently pulled at Randon’s hand.
“You must face me, not the priest,” she told him. “We speak our vows to each other.”
“I hope I remember what to say,” Randon murmured. “Terralt read the words to me at least a dozen times, but—well, I’ll do my best.”
Kayli had seen many weddings in her years at the temple, as a temple wedding was thought to bring good fortune. The familiar phrases were comforting, although Kayli thought privately that Brother Santee’s knowledge of Agrondish was somewhat lacking when he had translated the ceremony for Lord Calder.
At last, Lord Calder said, “By the authority left by High Lord Terendal, I give you, Randon, to Kayli as High Lord to High Lady, as husband to wife, as lover to lover, as man to woman, to be joined before Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire and before the witnesses gathered here. Is such a joining your intention?”
Randon met Kayli’s eyes squarely.
“It is my will and the desire of my heart.”
Brother Santee spoke weakly from his litter.
“On behalf of High Priestess Brisi of the Temple of Inner Flame, I give Kayli, Dedicate of the Order, permission to wed.”
“By the authority of your Order,” Lord Calder said, “I give you, Kayli, to Randon as High Lady to High Lord, as wife to husband, as lover to lover, as woman to man, to be joined before Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire and before the witnesses gathered here. Is such a joining your intention?”
Kayli took a deep breath.
“It is my will and the desire of my heart,” she said. Not for love, but for my country, my people, it is my will.
“Then I bind you by blood and blade.” Lord Calder drew the thari from its sheath and handed it to Kayli.
Kayli held up her left hand and placed the sharp edge of the thari against her palm.
“By my vows and by my blade, I am of one blood with you,” she said. “With this vow you are my family, my home, my lands, my country, my temple.” She thought of Kairi and her voice shook slightly. She pulled the blade downward, making a shallow cut in her palm so that the blood welled forth.
Randon bit his lip and took the thari, holding it against his palm as Kayli had done.
“By my vows and by my blade, I am of one blood with you,” he said, his voice stumbling a little. “With this vow you are my family, my home, my lands, and my country.” He did not say “my temple,” of course, as he had no Order. He cut into his palm, and Kayli winced as she saw how deeply he’d cut.
Kayli placed her cut hand palm to palm with Randon’s; Lord Calder tied a cord around their joined hands.
“Before Earth, Wind, Water, and Flame, and before the witnesses gathered here, I say that Kayli and Randon have joined as one in blood,” he said. “With the blade on which their blood joins, I sever all other ties that bind them, leaving only the bond of their blood and their vows.” He cut the cord binding their hands together. “Kayli and Randon, as High Lord to High Lady, as husband to wife, as lover to lover, as man to woman, now and for all time you are one.”
Lord Calder paused.
“What do I do now?” he asked hesitantly.
Kayli exhaled slowly. Done. There is no turning back.
“Now we let Brother Stevann bind Randon’s hand before he bleeds to death,” she said quietly. “I am sorry, my lord, that I failed to warn you of the sharpness of my thari.” She took her kerchief from her pocket and wiped her own hand, then Randon’s; by custom they would keep the kerchief, stained with their mingled blood, as long as both lived. She used the same kerchief to wipe clean her thari before she sheathed it.
“It’s all right,” Randon said stoutly as Stevann bandaged his hand. “I’ll survive.” He turned to Kayli.
“It’s our tradition to celebrate with a wedding feast,” he said. “Are you permitted to eat now?”
Kayli flushed; how could she explain the details of Awakening before strangers—and especially before Terralt?
“With respect, lord, our custom is to have the feast three days later.” Endra’s voice startled Kayli; she’d never noticed when the midwife had joined them. Nonetheless, she was grateful for Endra’s timely interruption, although the midwife was unabashedly lying; there was no such custom in Bregond.
“It’s tradition to let the new marrieds have three days alone to—to become accustomed to each other’s society,” Endra continued blithely, giving Kayli a sidewise glance. “It’s meant for matches like this where husband and wife have had no chance to know each othe
r before the wedding.”
“A sensible custom,” Randon agreed, although from the way his eyes twinkled, Kayli wondered if he’d guessed Endra’s ruse. “I’ll honor it gladly; for three days we’re not to be disturbed. Nevertheless, there’s one local custom I’ll not forgo.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Kayli time to signal her displeasure if she chose, and pressed his lips softly to hers.
His kiss was gentle, almost chaste, but Kayli was acutely embarrassed to be kissed in the sight of all these others, and she was hard put to keep from pulling away. When Randon straightened again, Kayli forced a small smile, fancying that she saw disappointment in his eyes. Perhaps Agrondish women gave no thought to venting their passions in public.
“My turn now,” Terralt said, but before Kayli could even draw back, Randon raised a hand, halting him.
“Not every country lets other men kiss the bride,” Randon said firmly. “A little respect for the lady, please.”
“Yes, I’ll take Lady Kayli upstairs now,” Endra agreed.
“That’s a good idea.” Randon relinquished Kayli’s hand as if reluctantly. “There are a few documents I must sign. I’ll be up shortly.”
Kayli was utterly grateful to escape; between her fast, her illness, and the tension of her wedding, her head was spinning. Endra took her arm as the midwife led her back up the stairs, this time to another set of rooms. Despite her unsettled state, Kayli was impressed by Randon’s chambers; besides the bedroom, he had a dressing room, a sitting room, and a small room in which he had placed his weapons and armor. Only the sitting-room door opened to the corridor, so the bedroom was quiet and private. A balcony on the south wall looked out over the huge city of Tarkesh. Beyond the wall of Tarkesh, Kayli could see the lush green fields for which Agrond was famous.
A small fire had been laid in the bedroom fireplace, more for light than to warm the room. Randon’s bed was wide and thick, the covers turned down invitingly, and Kayli wondered how many women he had brought there.
“The girls were quick,” Endra said approvingly. “They’ve put all your things away. Come, lady, here’s a robe; let’s get you out of that gown before your husband comes back and makes a botch of doing it himself.”
