by Kim Stokely
I fought to keep my mind in prayer when all I really wanted was to go to sleep. Would sleep come easier when I was queen? Because I hadn’t slept much at all since I’d come back to Ayden. How long had it been? A little over a week?
I chuckled softly, thinking how time supposedly moved faster in the Other World. It certainly seemed to speed by here in Ayden.
The flames of the torches warmed the air in the tent. My thoughts wandered. My head drooped.
I flinched when something brushed the back of my neck and glimpsed a slender hand holding a peacock feather. The hand definitely didn’t belong to Obed, so I knew I’d made it through at least one guardian’s shift. I thought back to the Elders in my room and tried to remember how many there’d been. I’d counted seven women, including my grandmother. I’d guess the number of men to be at least double that. I figured they all had to take an hour sitting with me throughout the day, with someone pulling a double shift to make up for Nitza.
By that reckoning, because I knew the first shift was gone, I was at least on my second hour. Twenty-two more to go.
The growling from my stomach grew louder. I wondered if I’d be able to eat tomorrow morning before the coronation ceremony.
Doubtful.
I’m hungry.
I’m so hungry I can’t think of anything else. I know I’m supposed to be praying but all I can think about is how much I want a chocolate malt and some French fries right now. Please help me to concentrate!
The hours drifted by.
The air in the tent grew hot and stale.
My mouth grew parched.
Doubts and questions and fears and regrets spun in the whirlwind of my thoughts.
My stomach stopped growling, replaced by a hollow emptiness.
A void gnawed at my soul.
The feather danced across my neck for the eighth or ninth time. I groaned. I wouldn’t make it for twenty-four hours.
I shifted my position, taking one that reminded me of the pictures I’d seen of Muslims praying. I knelt, but stretched my body out over the dirt floor as well, with my hands above my head.
I can’t do this much longer. What am I supposed to be learning? How is God . . . Ruahk . . . supposed to speak to me when all I can think about is how uncomfortable I am?
I stopped praying.
Then I stopped complaining.
I stopped thinking.
Finally
The voice came from inside me.
It came from outside me.
From everywhere.
From nowhere.
It sounded like a whisper. It reverberated through my mind.
Finally you are ready to listen
Finally you are ready to learn
Do you not remember the lessons at Ginessa’s Glade?
Images flooded my mind. The beauty, the emotions, the story I had seen.
If you attempt to rule Ayden alone, you will fail
Call on me
I was then
I am now
I will always be
My enemies think you are weak
They are right
But I am strong
I have already won the battle
Do nothing on your own but in everything
Rely on Me
Depend on Me
On My strength
On My power
Then you and your army will prevail
Call on My servants in your time of need
At the final battle
Call on Me and I will crush My enemies before your eyes
Stop trying Alystrine
It was I who named you
Alystrine,
Defender of mankind
You will overcome the Fallen
You will subdue the power of the Elders
You will guide Men
You will teach them to follow me
Those who have My name written on their hearts, made in my image
In this first battle before my Kingdom comes
If you follow Me
You will lead
If you serve Me
You will rule
If you give up your every desire
You will have more than you ever dreamed
If you don’t
You will fail
“Alystrine?”
A different voice called. One grounded in the world.
My soul reached out to reclaim the presence that had spoken to me. The one not grounded by time or place. But it was gone, leaving only a sense of peace.
A sense of hope.
And an overwhelming sense of love.
“Alystrine?” The grounded voice spoke again.
I was no longer stretched out on the floor. Instead I stood in front of the altar, my hands resting on its edge. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
Someone touched my shoulder. I turned around. Concern filled my father’s eyes. “It’s time, Alystrine.”
The rest of the Elder Council looked on.
I took a deep breath. “The Seclusion is over?”
Maris separated herself from the crowd and stepped to my side. “Yes. It’s time now for your coronation.” She paused and searched my face. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” I knew this was supposed to be a solemn occasion but I couldn’t help a huge grin from spreading across my face. “Yes, I’m ready now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Coronation Surprise
Maris accompanied me to my rooms so I could get ready for my coronation. A trio of young women dressed in Elder style gowns stood as we entered.
I frowned. “Where’s Rhoswen?”
My grandmother gestured to the women. “Today you receive the crown of Ayden. Lord Braedon no longer has control of your servants.”
The lingering ecstasy of the Seclusion was the only thing that kept me from losing my cool. “I should have been consulted.”
Maris raised an eyebrow. “We can discuss your personal arrangements after the ceremony. For now, Tamra, Reesa and Leah will prepare you for the day.”
I nodded and the women led me into my bed chamber where wisps of steam danced off the surface of large metal tub.
Several hours later, I’d been bathed, oiled, perfumed, dressed and adorned. Now I waited, in a dress I could barely breathe in, until the rest of the kingdom signaled its readiness to crown me queen. A trumpet fanfare sounded from outside. I ran to the window but could only see one end of the courtyard. The activities must have been taking place on the other side of the palace. Flags had been raised along the castle ramparts. The wind snapped them to attention. The snow had ended sometime during the Seclusion and rays of sunshine broke through thick white clouds to illuminate the sky with golden streaks.
Geran approached and stood by my side. “It’s time, Alystrine.”
I took his hand, giving it a weak squeeze. “I’ll try not to trip, but I can’t promise anything.”
He returned my squeeze. “Your mother would be proud.”
I looked to Kennis. She blinked several times, I think to force back tears. “My mother is proud.”
Kennis smiled. With her classic grace and beauty she was much better suited to be queen than I was. But it if I had learned anything from my time in Seclusion, it was that this was my destiny.
Geran let go of my hand when someone pounded against the door. Devnet swung it open. Several guards with gleaming golden helmets tapped their pikes against the ground. They turned on their heels, their maroon velvet tunics swaying as they marched down the hallway. I waited the prescribed four seconds before starting my own walk to the stairs.
As we approached the throne room, the guards outside the doors pounded their pikes. A trumpeter sounded his horn at the end of the hall and another farther on answered him. Within moments, an entire fanfare of horns sounded from somewhere outside the palace walls and a great cheer resounded. I could only guess that in this age before instant televised pictures, the trumpets were the signal to the crowds outside that I had arrived.
The throne room doors swung open. Mystic high priests stood to my left in ornate robes of deep blue with silver embroidery. I’d met them before, during one of the rehearsals. Druses and Condon were their names. My grandmother and Oded stood to my right in tunics of gold. A herald announced my entrance. The sound the crowd made as they rose from their seats was like the crashing of a wave on the shore. My mind flew back to my last trip to Hammonasset. So much had changed since then. I forced my thoughts back to the present.
Torches blazed along the walls, casting the room in a soft yellow light. Bright purple banners hung from the wooden rafters in the ceiling. I followed the religious leaders along the back wall of the throne room, trying to keep my eyes on them and not at the thousands gathered in the hall. When we turned right to walk down the aisle toward the throne I kept my focus on the banners behind the dais. One bore the Celtic knot I associated with the Mystics. A flaming sword decorated another. Between them hung a banner adorned with a giant tree.
I didn’t have to worry about my posture in the dress, the fabric was too stiff for me to slouch. I kept my arms straight at my side and concentrated on not catching the heels of the gold boots I wore in a crack in the stone floor.
The four clerics stepped onto the platform first and split to the sides of the dais. I made my way up and knelt on a red velvet cushion facing the throne. The first Mystic priest, Druses, chanted a prayer. My grandmother then said another. Then Condon and Oded both said a prayer. From the corner of the room, a choir of young boys sang a song about Mystic gods and some glorious battle. When they finished, a choir of Elders stepped forward and led the people in some kind of reciprocal chant. All I knew was that by the end of it my knees hurt and I wanted to sit down.
Maris and Druses stepped forward and helped me to my feet. They walked me around the throne and then faced me toward the crowd. Lord Braedon walked down the aisle, carrying a silver crown. It didn’t sparkle with rhinestones like the tiaras I’d seen in beauty pageants. It shimmered though, in the torch light. The metal had been twisted and braided together in an intricate pattern, similar to the woven branches on my ring. As Braedon drew nearer I could see that small flowers had been crafted in gold and set around the crown as if the crown was an actual tree in bloom. I smiled when he had to kneel in front of me. It must have galled him to do that. Maris handed me a golden scepter. I slid my hands over the skirt of my dress, hoping to wipe off some of the sweat from my palms before I took it. I did as I’d been instructed and tapped Braedon on each shoulder with the ruby top of the scepter.
“Thank you, Braedon, Lord of the Mystic Council, for acting as my regent to Ayden. I accept now the crown of my people and all the responsibilities of this land.” I turned and sat on the throne, placing the scepter on my lap. Maris and Druses each lifted the crown from Braedon’s hands. I struggled to take a breath as they approached.
Condon’s voice rang out through the hall. “Do you, Alystrine, daughter of Queen Etain and Geran the Elder, promise to uphold the treaties of the past that allow our people to live in peace?”
I tried to get some saliva in my mouth. “I do.”
Oded spoke next. “Do you swear to follow the laws of Ruahk, to protect His ways and those who follow them?”
“I do.”
I barely heard the litany of promises I made as Condon and Oded called out questions. Finally, Condon shouted, “Then, in the name of the Mystic Council, I proclaim you worthy of the crown of Ayden.”
Oded answered, “In the name of the Council of the Elders, I also proclaim you worthy of the crown of Ayden.”
Maris and Druses stepped forward and lowered the crown onto my head. It pressed down on my temples and I prayed it wouldn’t fall off. The clerics stepped away and a trumpeter from the back sounded. Lord Braedon stood off to the side of the platform. He called out, “All Hail Queen Alystrine!”
The thousands of nobles in front of me all rose as one and replied, “Long live the Queen!”
I stood and listened to the applause. I tried to swallow but couldn’t find enough spit in my mouth. My first instinct was to run screaming down the aisle and hide in a closet for a month or so, but the crown pressed down on my head and, I swear, pinned me to the floor.
Lord Braedon and the clerics stepped off the dais first. When they’d gone about halfway down the aisle, I followed. The Elders called out their congratulations and their prayers while the Mystics bowed silently as I went by. I glanced behind me to make sure my family had joined the procession. Geran’s eyes ordered me to turn around, but I’d managed to spot Kennis and Devnet behind him. We paraded down a long hallway lined with guards then out double doors onto a balcony.
Several thousand people stood in the courtyard below. They cheered as I made my way to the railing. Just visible beyond the walls of the courtyard was another throng of people. The roar from the crowds was deafening as I lifted my arm and waved.
The clerics and Devnet stepped to my side. The crowd gasped. I turned to see Quinn approaching with the Chrysaline lifted over his head. Shafts of white light rose from the orb and danced in the air above him. I could only assume its energy had rejuvenated him from taking Josh home as he didn’t appear to be as exhausted as I’d thought he’d be. I couldn’t wait to ask him about their escape. An eerie silence fell over the crowd below me and the nobles around me. Quinn presented the Chrysaline to my grandmother.
“Lady Maris, I return the Chrysaline to its rightful place, to the Council of the Elders. May it be used only for good, and never again for evil.”
The animosity of the Mystics was palpable as Maris took the globe from Quinn’s hands. They had lost a powerful weapon. My grandmother lifted the Chrysaline so that the crowd below could see it clearly. The beams of light glowing around it turned blue and then lilac as she approached me. The people shouted with delight as the orb acknowledged my presence.
Maris turned to the crowd. “People of Ayden, may the Chrysaline confirm the crowning of our queen!”
The Chrysaline blazed bright purple as I reached to grasp it in my hands. An invigorating surge of power flowed through me as I held the orb aloft. My muscles tingled and my heart raced. I couldn’t hear the crowd over the humming that filled my ears–as if a thousand voices sang to me but I couldn’t make out the words. Beams of golden sunlight broke through the gray clouds and shone on the balcony like a spotlight.
The voice from my Seclusion resonated within me. It has begun.
I held on to the Chrysaline, thinking the voice may have come through the orb. Glancing at the others around me I knew no one else had heard it.
Maris took the globe from my hands and the power left my body. I staggered for a moment as I readjusted my balance. It was as if I’d stepped off a boat onto dry land. I rested my hand on the railing of the balcony. Geran stepped to my side. The crowd quieted when they caught sight of him. A low rumble made its way through the people.
He raised his arm and the murmuring stopped. “People of Ayden, I am Geran the Elder.” The crowd reacted with a gasp. “Many of you believed I was dead, but I have returned. I pledge my service to my daughter Alystrine, the rightful heir to the throne and to you, all of the people of Ayden.”
The throng raised their voices in one, long, sustained shout of joy. Louder than any concert I’d ever attended, their cheer reverberated through my body.
Geran leaned over to me. “You must address them.”
I took a moment to swallow my fear and leaned against the railing. I thought about the speech my father had practiced with me. “My people, thank you for the support you’ve given me. I will do my best to earn your trust during the course of my reign. Please pray the blessing of Ruahk on me, on our people, and on our kingdom. Thank you.” I waved, feeling like a reluctant beauty queen, and stepped back from the railing.
Braedon whispered in my ear, “Very good, Wife. The crown is on your head and the nobles have declared you queen. Perhaps we should tell them now of our agreement?”
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I kept a smile on my face but spoke through my clenched jaws. “I have a year before I have to go through with this.” I waved again to the crowd then turned and started back inside. “Believe me, I intend to stay away from you until absolutely necessary.”
“Why keep the good news to ourselves?” He took hold of my elbow. “I think the Elders need to know the truth now.”
I wrenched myself from his grasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”
My father came to my side. “Step away from her, Lord Braedon. Your role as Regent is over.”
The malicious glint behind his eyes made me want to hit him. “That may be, but I still have a place beside the Queen.”
Geran glared at the Mystic lord. “You have no place here. None of the Mystics do.”
“That’s not quite true,” Braedon’s fingers traced down the sleeve of my gown. “Is it, Your Majesty?”
“Enough,” I stepped away from him. “We have a banquet to attend.”
My father took my arm as we passed through the doorway. “What is he talking about, Alystrine?”
“Who knows what goes through his mind? The man is nuts.” I searched for Quinn. The Portal must have slipped away after he presented the Chrysaline. I couldn’t see him anywhere. The trumpeters sounded their horns and I jumped.
Geran laughed. “The hard part is over. For today, at least, you can relax and enjoy being a queen.”
I knew from Braedon’s look I wouldn’t have an opportunity to relax today. He and his father undoubtedly had some plan to make my life miserable. I may not be able to see Quinn, but I knew he had to be somewhere nearby. Quinn?
