“Speaking of,” Aedin said.
Garrick and the Council rose from prayer, and Garrick sat down in the throne. With his Knights arrayed behind him, he looked every inch the king. His august countenance was framed by waves of chestnut hair which fell upon his broad shoulders. His beautifully crafted armor gleamed so brilliantly that Elenn was glad the back of the throne was between him and the rising sun. He was more than regal—he was resplendent.
Garrick gave Elenn and the other four women chosen by the Orders a grave nod, and they advanced as one toward the throne. The first Sister took his left hand and placed on his finger the ring of Anyon, first King of Deira. The second took his right hand and placed in it the sword of Uilleam Sprigge, the last man to kill a dragon. The third placed a scarlet cape on his shoulders and fastened it with a silver fibula.
Then it was Elenn’s turn. Bowing to Garrick, she presented the Falarica, which the new king took in his left hand. For a moment, their eyes met.
Did he know, she wondered, what a treasure he was being given? Or was it just another trinket to him, another symbol of majesty? For that matter, did he know who she was? Not just the Paladin, not just another Barethon and possible heir to the throne, but his cousin. With her aunt gone, this man was all the kin she had in the world. Did he know that they were family?
He smiled at Elenn, and then his gaze shifted to the woman who stood behind her. With a last bow, Elenn stepped aside. This was not the time, but she resolved to speak to Garrick. After a life spent in the shadows, she was ready for a new dawn.
The fifth priestess reverently placed a crown on Garrick’s head. All of the company fell to their knees, in awe-filled silence, as King Garrick stood, for the first time. He stepped forward and placed his feet on the prints on the rock, where it was said that the Gods had endowed Anyon with power from the heavens.
He raised his sword to the sky in silent plea for divine favor. A warm summer breeze blew in from the east, stirring his hair and causing the scarlet Laird’s cape to billow out behind him in regal splendor. The Gods had given their approval.
A cheer came up from the assembled host, and Elenn was pleased to hear Aedin’s voice mingled with the rest. She stepped back to join him, gently taking hold of his injured arm. She raised her voice to join him in the cry that burst forth triumphantly from each man’s lips and echoed in every ear.
“Long live Garrick! Long live the king!”
***
Acknowledgments
John D. Payne would like to thank Jason Faller and the creative minds at Arrowstorm Entertainment for the amazing opportunity to be a part of this project. Specifically, I owe a great debt to Kynan Griffin, Anne Black, and Justin Partridge, without whose original screenplay none of this would have been possible.
Undying gratitude is also due to the incomparable Kevin J. Anderson of WordFire Press and to the inestimable Rebecca Moesta for encouragement and expert editing. Thank you for believing in this book.
Many thanks to a host of readers, including: Ryan English, John Ferguson, Martin Greening, Alice Beesley, Andrew Griffard, Alice Wills Gold, Don Hodge, David Payne I and II, Steven Besendorfer, Danielle Andrews, Sara Anderson, Ryan Burraston, Linsey Duncan, Ellen Imler, and Marc DeVore, with special thanks to Heidi Taylor, Kim W. Justesen, and E.J. Patten. This book is much stronger because of all of your insights and feedback.
For their support and sage advice, I would like to recognize the whole tribe from the Superstars Writing Seminar, and in particular Brandon Sanderson. Thank you for helping me to believe in myself.
And finally, thank you to my beloved family. You are better than fantastic.
***
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