by BJ Hanlon
Edin was surprised to see Gostal and Ginnis together. Ginnis started to bow but Gostal seized his lapel and yanked him back up.
The road twisted a bit inland and he saw more clearly the pyres. There were at least twenty of them, maybe more. Thousands of trees all built in a pyramidal fashion as bodies were still being piled on.
So many people were helping, men and women of all ages, shapes and classes, children who seemed to have had all the joy ripped from them.
How many had lost parents, how many friends?
There was a stand, built off to the right, a stage really with its back to the sea and there were people up there. A lot of people.
Just before it, he saw a troupe of red-haired folk standing next to the stairs. Berka’s family. Amongst them was El and her hand was on her stomach.
Edin stopped and remembered Berka dying.
Without a thought, he moved off the path to his best friend’s mother and girlfriend. “I’m so sorry about Berka and Vistach,” he said.
She slapped him. “Do not ever bloody apologize. My husband and son died as heroes of Bestoria,” she said, “and Berka at least left me with a grandchild to be.” El was blushing, her hand still on her stomach.
“I’m sorry,” Edin said. “Anything of mine is yours.”
“That’s a lot,” she said, there was more confidence in her voice than there had been before and Edin wasn’t quite sure what she meant.
Then Berka’s mother said, her voice still rabid, “and you, Edin de Yaultan, you abomination, you wild child. Do not forget that you are a second son to me.” Then she reached up and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
Edin squeezed her back. He felt other arms joining in and more people included in the hug.
“We should get going,” said Dorset.
They broke apart and Edin nodded to the family and tried not to tear up. Then he followed Dorset to the stairs that led to the stand and they began to rise.
Down below, he spotted soldiers he’d known. Warriors he’d fought next to and others he’d never seen before. They hefted bodies onto the pyres as great vats of oil were being wheeled through the grid of pyres by hand.
At the top of the stage there was a crowd. There was a lectern at the front with rows of chairs in a U around it.
Edin saw Sinndilo talking with Feracrucio and their entourages. A young man noticed Edin, Lenter, Edin thought. A moment later, the young noble brought everyone’s attention to Edin.
They all dipped their heads to Edin. Edin returned the gesture.
Further up the stage, he saw Le Fie and Tor and others from the gentry of Delrot.
Then Grent and Dephina approached Edin with great smiles.
“So glad you’re awake,” said Grent. He reached out and seized Edin in a great embrace that caused Edin to nearly lose his breath.
“Glad you are too,” Edin gasped.
When Grent let go, Dephina hugged him too. Squeezing nearly as hard as her husband.
“Got it, okay,” Edin said and she let go.
Suddenly, he thought of something, of someone who was missing. Edin looked left and right, all up and down the stage.
“Where’s my father?” Edin asked.
Grent and Dephina’s eyes turned down, he even saw people in his peripheral vision looking away.
Arianne squeezed his hand. “He’s there,” she said.
Edin looked and saw him on the nearest pyre next to Berka and Vistach and Elva. Duria was there too and Placisus. Others, generals and captains of the army or the city guard.
Though his father was twenty yards away, he looked peaceful, asleep maybe and there was something of a smile on his face.
“Please take your seats,” said Overa approaching them. He ushered them over to seats in the center just behind the lectern.
A man walked up. He was dressed in white robes with a grand white hat. It took Edin a moment to realize that he was the head of the Vestion.
The Pontiff.
The man spoke loudly and as he spoke of forgiveness and hope for the future and the quest to tame the wild lands again, Edin stopped paying attention. He stared at the bodies. At the people who’d died, the ones who’d been the bravest and truest of all of them. Edin stared at his father and at Berka and Vistach.
Then he heard, “in the name of our lord Vestor and the great father of all, Losilin, light the pyres.”
The flames lit up
Edin wiped his eyes and sat, he felt Arianne squeezing his hand. “Are you alright?” she asked.
Edin looked back at her and started to smile as he heard the pontiff start to speak again. “All please rise for the new King, Edin de Bestoria.”
His smile faded. “No. I certainly am not.”
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Super Awesome Reader, I could use a bit of a hand!
Woo! That was exciting wasn’t it? Well I know you know the adventure isn’t over just yet. Edin continues on, but first, before delving into the next book, please do me a favor.
*Put on somber face*
I am an independent author with no access to the big publishing mechanisms that drive people to the top of best seller lists and buy them luxury boats and cars and other toys that help rich people feel like their better than normal folk… I do have you though. My fans and hopefully friends. If you could just do me a favor and write a review for me, I’d be super grateful. Like really really grateful… Just overwhelmed with the amount of grates.
Here is the link to the page where you can be super awesome and write that review.
BJ
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It’s now! Anyways, here you are, click the button below and be whisked away to the wonderful land of Bestoria where water turns to wine and everyone eats steak. Even the vegetarians! HAHAHA. Just kidding. The world’s kind of crappy and if you’ve read The Abomination of Yaultan (I highly suggest you do so as there are spoilers if you haven’t) you’d know that. Also, this book follows someone else. The Justicar Merik into the wilds of Porinstol. OOOOOOoooooo.
What is the religious zealot doing there? Why is he no longer chasing Edin? Take a gander and we shall find out…
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We are all abominations in some sense are we not? A quick reminder you join this mailing list for the book. A mailing list for abominations. I hope you don’t just get the book and run… but if you do, enjoy and possibly pick up my next book when available.
Cheers,
BJ
Acknowledgments
I acknowledge that meditation has worked and that my wife, my friends, my family and a numerous amount of super awesome, really rad friends are the reason for my ability to keep writing and keep having fun! Loves to you all.
Cheers!
BJ
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.
First Edition April 11, 2020 Copyright 2019 BJ Hanlon
Cover by Covermint Design
Edited by Beth Doward
Created with Vellum
