Well, she was grown now, and she still didn't understand.
Was Lullo a man her mother loved but couldn't be joined to? Was he a man she had some fondness for but didn't love as much as she loved Tygre? Was he just some man with whom her mother shared one night of love?
Maybe that was the way to do things. Find a man to love with her body, and another who was more suitable as a consort. At least then she'd have wonderful memories if her choice of consort was wrong.
"Janico, you gave these rituals to the first Exalted Warrior," Moonrazer whispered. "I know they served a purpose generations ago, but are they still necessary? Surely, things changed when the Sword of Justice was lost?"
She waited, silently, staring out at the mountains and glaciers. No feeling of being heard, let alone answered, came to her, but she hadn't expected anything overt.
Her faith had never depended on good feelings, but today, she needed something more than just a determination to do what was right and honorable.
"You gave the first Exalted Warrior love," she said, the beads in her fingers more of a reminder of the Holy One's presence than a way of counting prayers this morning. "Is it too much to ask the same for myself? I have remained strong and done what I needed to do to keep the Sarl together and bring them back to their homeland. My time as Exalted Warrior is coming to an end. I accept that, although I am not ready for it.
"However, if I am to mate, can it be with a man who sees me as both a woman and a warrior? Is that too much to ask? I ask only for a sign of your will for my life. If it is not to include love, then show me soon, so I may put these desires away and do my duty as you require."
A soft knock came from her bedchamber door. For a moment, she wondered if she could pretend to still be abed. Maybe, given the injuries she’d gotten over the past several days, she'd be forgiven for postponing the day of the Ritual.
These thoughts made her smile, thinking about the look that would put on Whiteshadow's face.
The knock came again. Moonrazer had a duty to perform, and as she'd never shirked her duty before, she couldn't give in to the temptation to do it today.
"I am awake," she called without turning away from the window. "You may enter."
Oakgold came into the room, carrying the formal dress Moonrazer would wear that evening.
This blend of armor and gown, which had taken fourteen seamstresses ten days to create, was whiter than new snow and encrusted with millions of tiny silver beads that collected and threw off the candlelight. It was made of heavy muste leather, worked until it was as soft was the finest silk but still strong enough to withstand an arrow and all but the sharpest dagger.
The top was skin-tight from her neck to her waist, where it flared out to a layered skirt made of thinner pieces of the same muste skin that reached to the floor. Beneath that, Moonrazer would wear a pair of trousers, almost as tight as the bodice, made from slightly darker skin.
The entire garment had been designed according to what was written in the Ancient Writings and made Moonrazer look like an avenging angel who had recently stood in the presence of the Holy One himself.
Or so Adazzra told her the last time she'd tried it on.
The seamstresses had also fashioned a white and silver weapons belt and the blacksmiths and forgers had made matching knives. The only weapon she would wear that had not been created specifically for this night was the Sword of Justice.
"Warrior, the garment is ready for tonight's ceremonies."
Moonrazer looked at the huge, sparkly apparel, and closed her eyes briefly. "Thank you, Oakgold," she said, smiling.
"Of course, Warrior. I have instructed the kitchen to begin preparing the morning meal for you."
"You knew I was awake?"
The young servant blushed. "I will admit that I have been awake since long before the sun made its appearance. I heard you moving the chair before your prayers, so I went down to the kitchen then."
"Why have you been up for so long?" Moonrazer asked as she stood and opened the cabinet where her clothes were stored. Oakgold hurried to her side and removed a set of undergarments from the drawer.
As the Exalted Warrior began changing out of her night clothes, Oakgold moved the chair from the prayer corner back to where it had been.
"I could not sleep, Warrior. I was worried about you."
Moonrazer stopped in the middle of pulling on the lightweight breeches she always wore under leather or heavy fabric pants. "You were worried about me? Why?"
"You have a serious decision to make today. Each of the two remaining Candidates is strong and young and handsome. Either one could serve as an appropriate companion for you."
"So, you believe I will have trouble selecting just one of these men?" Moonrazer continued dressing.
Oakgold shook her head. "No, Warrior. I worry that you will select a man out of the duty you feel toward your people, not out of the duty you should have to your heart."
Now Moonrazer stared at her, seeing Oakgold not as a young, silly servant girl, but as a young woman who seemed to see and understand more than Moonrazer gave her credit for.
"You have fought nearly your whole life for the Sarl, even before finding the Sword of Justice and defeating the Navin. You deserve happiness too, my Warrior. Perhaps it is time for you to think about that."
She found a medium-weight blue cotton tunic, and handed it to Moonrazer. "I should check that your meal is prepared."
"Of course," Moonrazer said. "You may go."
Perhaps this was the sign from the Holy One she'd prayed for. Maybe it was time for her to think of her own happiness.
****
The instant the sun dropped below the horizon, Moonrazer stepped into the ballroom.
Thousands of white candles had been lit by the Sisters of the Flame, and the room was full of Sarl warriors and men, all dressed in their finest clothes.
Moonrazer's hair was now piled in soft curls on top of her head, held in place by what felt like tiny spikes. Adazzra assured her that the pins did not penetrate her scalp, but Moonrazer expected blood to run down her face or the back of her neck.
The crown that surrounded all that hair had also come with Whiteshadow and the Sisters. It was a replica of the one worn by past Exalted Warriors. The original had been lost when the Navin flooded the temple on the Southern Peninsula.
Made of gold and covered with velvet, fur from six different animals native to Carrick, and dozens of green and blue jewels the size of Moonrazer's thumb, the crown was heavy.
Whiteshadow, dressed in white and yellow as befitted her station, stood to the left of the throne. She held a Sacred Scroll in her right hand and the Sword of Mercy in her left.
"Sarl warriors," the Mother Prioress called out, holding the Sword of Mercy high above her head. "Your men and guests, behold. The Exalted Warrior, our leader, chosen by the Holy One Himself, announces that she is ready to submit herself to His will and find a mate. Any man, Sarl or no, with Offerings worthy, step forward."
She lowered the Sword of Mercy and gestured toward the throne, which stood at the head of the huge, dark dining table.
Moonrazer walked slowly toward the end of the ballroom where the table and throne were arranged. Adazzra smiled as their eyes met.
Once Moonrazer was seated on the throne, the crowd stepped a bit closer, and murmurs arose. She looked at her sister, whose knuckles were white as she gripped the Sword of Mercy.
"Are you prepared for the first Offering?" Whiteshadow asked.
Taking a deep breath, Moonrazer nodded. Whiteshadow motioned to the Sisters that flanked the large double doors at the far end of the ballroom.
Adazzra leaned down and whispered. "Remember, my sister, you don't have to choose either one of these men if you don't want to."
Moonrazer looked at her. "We would only have to do these Rituals again. I am not getting stronger. It is time."
Sister Greenmorning opened the ballroom door, and Lucan entered, carrying an Aart boar with li
ttle exertion on his part. He dropped it on the table and spoke.
"I am Lucan, son of Romochka, and I offer a gift of meat. I have killed this boar to prove my courage to you. I wish to be the one to warm your bed, cook your meals, and raise your children."
He hesitated, glancing at Whiteshadow. Moonrazer looked over her shoulder at her sister, who nodded. Lucan, apparently reassured that he was performing the Ritual correctly, knelt.
If Moonrazer chose him, they would not spend their time in palaces, and there would be little diplomacy. They would be able to make love in the stable or on the snowy glaciers beneath the rainbow sky.
She lifted the Sword of Justice. "This man has made a worthy Offering. However, I reserve my final judgment until both men have been seen."
Instead of touching Lucan with the Sword, as the Ritual demanded when she found her Chosen One, she laid it back on the table.
"You cannot do this," Whiteshadow said. "You must make a decision."
"And I fully intend to, but it is only fair to see both Candidates first."
"That is not how the Ritual traditionally happened."
"Traditionally, the Exalted Warrior would know the men who vied for her favors, and she would have had blizzards to find a man she could love. I have not had that opportunity, so I am going to wait until I see what Prince Varian has to offer." She shrugged. "After all, we only have two Candidates. Surely it can do no harm to see one more."
"You need to pick someone to act as Sword Bearer at the Confluence in two days."
"I will not neglect my duties, Prioress. Choosing to see the last Candidate does not affect that."
After staring at Moonrazer, Whiteshadow bowed. "Of course. You are within your rights to see all the Candidates before making your decision."
Lucan stood. "What do I do now?"
Whiteshadow stepped forward and snapped her fingers above her head.
Immediately, the priest who served in the church, Brother Drotten, hurried from the corner of the ballroom.
"Yes, Mother?" he asked, bowing over and over as he approached her.
"Take Lucan to the kitchen, with his offering. See the meat is prepared for tonight's banquet."
"Yes, Mother." Brother Drotten nodded to Lucan who lifted the boar carcass onto his shoulders.
Chapter Twenty-two
Prince Varian entered the ballroom. He held himself tall as he dragged the sled with the carcass to the table.
"I am Varian son of Christopher, and I offer a gift of fur. I have killed this tundra bear to prove my courage to you. I wish to be the one to warm your bed and cook your meals and raise your children." He dropped to his knees.
Moonrazer looked into his eyes and saw sincerity there, an openness that suggested their life together would be one of trust and honesty.
Varian was here out of a sense of duty to his people more than his own desire. A part of her ached to be the one to heal him, but she feared that he needed more time to come to terms with his losses.
No doubt, when he was ready, there would be no shortage of princesses seeking his hand.
He would be at home in a palace, hosting a ball or engaging in diplomatic debate, something she could never do.
If she chose him, he would still be the ruler of his people, while she would relinquish her position. She would go with him to live on Tellan.
Could she be happy there, living among strangers, no longer able to go with Wind Rider across the glaciers?
As though aware of the conflict raging inside her, Varian gave her the slightest of smiles, one of confidence and strength.
She lifted the Sword of Justice from the table.
"This man has presented a good Offering. He is fit to be the Consort of the Exalted Warrior."
"Wait."
Whiteshadow stepped forward, the Sword of Mercy in her hand. "With all due respect, Warrior, this Candidate has not made a worthy Offering. There are wounds on this animal that show Lord Olivier fought with this beast before the Prince found it. Prince Varian did not kill it himself."
She raised her voice. "As instructed by the Ancient Writings—" She motioned to one of the Sisters of the Flame who hovered nearby with a scroll on a satin cushion. Whiteshadow took it. "—any Candidate who makes an unworthy Offering shall be put to death."
Whiteshadow pointed the Sword at Varian's chest.
"Wait," Moonrazer said. "It is clear that the wounds surrounding the blue arrows are scabbed over and did not penetrate deeply into the muscle tissue. The animal would have been nearly at full strength. The pain probably enraged him. This was a good kill."
Whiteshadow's face turned a shade redder. "You question my interpretation of the writings?"
"Perhaps you should read further." Moonrazer motioned to Adazzra who handed her a scroll.
"What is this?" Whiteshadow asked.
"The original commentaries of Mother Bloodring. Olaf sent it from the Temple of Sacred Radiance."
"Impossible." Whiteshadow glared at her sister, but her expression showed she wasn't quite as confident as her words sounded. "Even if this is true, how does it contradict the scroll I have?"
"Shall we see?" Moonrazer pushed the flowers to one side of the table and unrolled the scroll.
"Mother Bloodring's original commentaries," Whiteshadow said, running her fingertips over the words. "Written by her own hand."
Moonrazer nodded.
The Mother Prioress unrolled her scroll and laid it next to the one Moonrazer had. Immediately, it became clear that they were written by the same person.
"You see," Moonrazer said. "The commentaries explain what an unworthy Offering is. 'Any animal destroyed by fire. Any crippled or diseased animal. Any animal killed by another. Any trained and domesticated animal.'"
Moonrazer looked at the tundra bear lying on the table. Then she glanced at her sister. "I see nothing in these writings that would make Prince Varian's Offering an unworthy one. What do you say, my sister?"
"How do we know this scroll is what it claims to be?" Whiteshadow asked.
"The Sword will tell us the truth of it." Moonrazer laid the Sword across the parchment.
What if Olaf was mistaken and this was not the original?
She was relieved when a pale white light shone from the blade.
"The Sword of Justice cannot be fooled, sister. This is the original scroll. Prince Varian has made a worthy Offering."
Whiteshadow bowed. "Warrior, you are correct. I apologize both to you and to Prince Varian. I only wanted to save you from choosing an unworthy Candidate."
****
The Choosing was next. The men were given time to change into clothing worthy of a banquet, and the Offerings were prepared by the kitchen for the meal.
The men were seated when Moonrazer and Adazzra entered the ballroom. Whiteshadow stood at the head of a table of Sisters of the Flame, waiting for the Exalted Warrior.
Adazzra walked to the foot of the table where Varian and Lucan waited. Moonrazer approached, and both men stood.
"The Exalted Warrior will announce her selection when the meal has finished," Whiteshadow said.
Moonrazer took her place at the table, but she watched her sister's face. The Mother Prioress wasn't happy, but lately she rarely was.
The two men and Adazzra stood, and the Sisters of the Flame chanted a prayer of blessing over the food.
"Have you made your decision?" Varian asked as the diners seated themselves and began piling food on their plates.
Moonrazer nodded and took a sip of the wine set in front of her. "I have spent much time in prayer about this, and I have reached a decision."
"I don't understand," Lucan said. "I thought the winner of the hunting ritual was automatically the Chosen."
The Exalted Warrior took her time cutting the meat pie that made up the first course of the meal. She wasn't ready to discuss this yet.
"Perhaps there is more to the choice than we were told," Varian said. "This is a big decision, after all. It will a
ffect the Exalted Warrior's life from now on."
"This is true," Adazzra said. "A woman, even an Exalted Warrior, doesn't want to make such a choice based on only one thing."
Moonrazer set her knife on the table. "I am sitting here. There is no need to talk around me. I will make my announcement when the meal has finished. In the meantime, surely we can find something else to discuss."
To her surprise, the men remained quiet, both of them with their eyes on the food. Adazzra glanced at them.
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