A Sky of Spells (Book #9 in the Sorcerer's Ring) (14 page)

*

Gwendolyn walked through the
bustling crowd swarming in the rebuilt courtyard, thrilled to finally be out of
King’s Castle, done with her official duties of the day, and out joining her
people in the day’s revelries. After all, it was the day of the Summer Solstice,
and a day like this only came once a year. It also coincided this year with the
celebration of the reconstruction of King’s Court, and with the imminent
celebration of her wedding. It would be a joyous year unlike any
other—especially in the wake of such a year of darkness and gloom. Her people craved
any occasion to rejoice, and they now had many of them.

Gwen took a deep breath on
this beautiful summer day; she was determined to leave all the darkness behind
her, and to rejoice with her people. The endless affairs of court could wait; she’d
seen enough people already today. And now that the jousts were done and the
horns had sounded, Gwendolyn was thrilled to finally have a chance to mingle
with Thor.

Gwen was thrilled to see him
so happy, and she had been so proud of him throughout the day, watching all of
his jousts on pins and needles, cheering with the crowd, groaning when he was
hit. She never doubted that he would win; he brought honor on himself, and on
her, in everything he did. Even if he had lost, she would have loved him just
the same.

Gwen held Thor’s hand, and
the two of them walked through the crowd to the cheers of thousands of
well-wishers, as Thor led her through the parting masses and up the steep
wooden steps towards the high platform overlooking the court. Thor led her
halfway, and then stopped; as queen, Gwendolyn walked the final steps alone, and
took the stage alone.

Thor stood below, in the
front row, looking up and watching with thousands of others, Reece, Kendrick, Godfrey,
Erec, Steffen, Atme, Brandt, O’Connor, Elden, Conven, Aberthol and dozens of
others at his side. The crowd grew silent as Aberthol slowly ascended the steps
himself, leaning on his cane, seeming much older, each step an effort. In his
other hand, he carried a long, tapered, unusual yellow sword, with a golden
hilt.

Aberthol reached the stage
and took his place beside Gwen, and the crowd grew silent. Thousands of people watched,
transfixed, as Aberthol gingerly held out the long, yellow sword to Gwendolyn. She
reached over, bowed her head, and took it from him carefully, grasping its
golden hilt. It was the golden sword of summer, used once a year, every year,
by kings, to initiate the Summer Solstice.

Gwen held the sword out before
her and stood before a huge, round yellow fruit which hung from a rope before her.
It dangled there, twice the size of a watermelon, bright yellow with white
sparkling nubs, dazzling in the sun.

Aberthol turned and faced
the crowd.

“The Summer Solstice is a
precious day,” he boomed out, his voice raspy but able to be heard in the rapt
air. “A day of powerful omens. A day that portends the year to come. A day
honored and celebrated by kings for thousands of years. As our ruler slashes
this water fruit, it signifies the bounties of summer should be showered on us
all throughout the year. It portends the blessing of a good harvest. And yet we
also destroy the fruit, to signify that nothing lasts forever, and that our
ultimate security comes from the almighty above.”

Aberthol nodded and stepped
aside.

Gwen examined the long,
yellow sword, the one used by her father, and his father before him; it felt
odd to be holding it. She remembered being a young girl and standing down there
and watching each year, so anxious, hoping her father slashed the fruit just
right, and that it was filled with water. She, like all people, wanted a good
omen for the year to come.

Gwen took aim, her heart
pounding, not wanting to miss, wanting to slash the fruit perfectly, as her
father always did; he had always made it seem so effortless, showering all of his
subjects with the bounty of the water fruit. She wanted this to be a good year
and a good harvest, especially after all the darkness they had gone through.

Gwen breathed deep, raised the
sword high, and brought it down with all her might, aiming for the center.

A perfect strike. She
slashed the water fruit in half, and clear liquid gushed out of it in every
direction, showering dozens of people in the crowd below.

There came a huge cheer, as
horns sounded all up and down the courtyard, and people broke out into
merriment. Musicians picked up their instruments, and the sound of trumpets and
cymbals and horns and flutes and drums filled the air. Dancing broke out
everywhere, strangers locking arms and spinning in jubilation.

The Summer Solstice had
officially begun, and no time was wasted. Gwen looked down and saw tables already
being rolled out everywhere, casks rolled up beside them, platters of meats and
cheeses and fruits laid out as far as the eye could see. It would be a feast
unlike any other.

Gwen looked up at the
now-hollow fruit, swinging there, and as she examined it, she had a moment of
dread: the inside of it, usually a bright yellow, was rotted to the core,
black. She was the only one who could see it, from her angle, high up on the
platform, and she quickly looked away. She did not want anyone else to see
this, and she tried to push it from her mind, to pretend she never saw it. But
it was, she knew, a terrible omen.

“Gwendolyn?”

Gwen looked over to see Thor
standing there, smiling, hand outstretched; he had climbed the steps, and was
waiting to help her back down.

Gwen put on a good face, and
she forced herself to smile wide as she descended to the shouts and cheers of endless
well-wishers, all of them embracing her, patting her on the back. Thor took her
hand and she walked in a daze, filled with conflicting emotions, her stomach so
large, as he led her past thousands of loyal and devoted subjects.

“They are enamored of you,” Thor
said. “They don’t just admire you, they truly love you. Most unusual for a
leader. You are like a mother to all of them, or a sister. You can see it in
their eyes.”

Gwendolyn looked around, and
she saw that Thor was right. She felt all of their love, and it was the
greatest feeling of her life. She had never thought she’d be capable of ruling
a kingdom. She had always assumed that it was only something a man could do.

“I love them back,” she
replied.

Thor led her to a long
feasting table in the midst of the courtyard, seated with all her family and
council and dozens of nobles and lords and foreign dignitaries. Gwendolyn, ever
the ruler, walked around the table, greeting each noble there, making a point
to make everyone feel as welcome as possible.

Gwen spotted Kendrick and
Sandara, Reece and Selese, seated beside Erec and Alistair, and she fell in
beside them. Gwen had become so close to Thor’s sister these last moons, she
already felt like a sister to her, like the sister she’d never had. Gwen had
also become equally close to Selese, her sister-in-law to be. She had always
been close to Reece, and anyone he loved, she knew she would love to. And she
did love her, more than she ever expected, not out of fraternal obligation, but
because she was discovering what an amazing person Selese was, and how devoted
she was to her brother.

When Gwen had found out that
she’d had the good fortune of being proposed to on the same day as Selese, she felt
that it was meant to be, and had insisted that Selese and Reece share her joy,
and be married together in a double wedding. Selese and Reece had been thrilled.
The wedding preparations under way now were for all four of them, and in
preparing and planning, Gwen had become as close to Selese as Alistair. In a
way, it had been like she’d been given two sisters at once.

Gwen embraced her brothers, Kendrick
and Reece, and looked about.

“Where’s Godfrey?” she asked
Reece, realizing one of her brothers was missing.

“Where else?” Illepra remarked,
shaking her head in frustration. “Drinking and having fun,” she added, and
pointed across the courtyard.

Gwen turned and followed her
gaze, and saw a stage being rolled to the center of the courtyard, Godfrey
standing in its center, dressed in costume, Akorth and Fulton beside him, along
with dozens of their tavern friends. A horn sounded, and the common folk began
to gather about the stage.

“He’s incorrigible,” Illepra
said. “I searched for him all morning, only to find him in one of the new taverns
you ordered built. There are too many of them. King’s Court has become a
drinking haven!” she said, laughing.

“The people need a reason to
celebrate, and a place to forget their woes,” Gwen said, “as much as they need
food and shelter.”

Gwen sighed.

“One cannot keep the people
back from the taverns,” she added. “If you don’t build them, they will drink
anyway, in private. At least now they can come together, and we can regulate
them.”

“HEAR ALL AND ONE COME
TOGETHER!” Godfrey yelled out, as the stage was rolled out front and center.

Musicians quieted, the
jugglers and fire-throwers stopped, and the crowd pressed in more closely, milling
about the stage, an eager anticipation in the air, eager to see another play by
Godfrey and his men.

“And what do you have for us
this time?” O’Connor called out to Godfrey.

Godfrey stepped aside to
reveal a tall, thin actor, dressed in a scarlet robe and hood, who stepped
forward, threw back his hood and scowled at the crowd.

“I am Rafi! A man to be
feared!” the actor hissed.

The crowd booed and jeered.

Godfrey stumbled forward,
his belly out before him, crumpling his face, doing his best to act mean.

“And I am Andronicus!”
Godfrey said. “The most feared of all commanders!”

The crowd booed.

“No—wait!” Godfrey called
out, stopping, confusion on his face. “I forgot: I am dead! And no one fears
the dead!”

Godfrey suddenly slumped
down, collapsed on the stage and did not move, and the crowd shouted out with
laughter and relief.

The actor playing Rafi stood
over him and held out his hands:

“Rise, Andronicus! I command
you!”

Godfrey suddenly jumped to
his feet, and the crowd booed. But he then chased Rafi around the stage and caught
him and strangled him, pretending to throttle him to death. The two of them
wrestled on stage, and the crowd howled with laughter.

Finally, Godfrey killed him
and rose, victorious, and the crowd cheered.

Another actor, lean and
unshaved, stepped forward, frowning.

“And who are you?” Godfrey
asked.

“I am Gareth, the former
king!” the actor said.

The crowd booed. As Gwen
heard his name, it sent a chill through her spine. She flashed back to her
killing him. She had no regrets—it was justice for her father. Yet still, the
very thought of her former brother pained her. It was too fresh for her.

“And I, McCloud!” Akorth
announced, rushing forward.

The crowd jeered, and threw
tomatoes at him.

“You shall rule the Western Kingdom,
and I shall rule the East!” McCloud said to Gareth.

They both reached out and
clasped hands. But as they did, a woman stepped forward from the crowd, holding
a long sword, and pretended to stab each of them through the chest. Each one
sank to his knees, collapsing to the ground, dead.

The woman turned and faced
the crowd, and raised her sword high.

“I am Gwendolyn, the greatest
of all MacGil rulers!”

The crowd roared with
approval, and Gwendolyn felt herself blush. She was overwhelmed with love for
her people, but she also felt a deep sense of lingering sadness for all that
transpired. Although six moons had passed, it all still felt like yesterday—and
watching this farcical play somehow brought it all back.

“Excuse me,” Gwen said to
Thor.

She turned away from the
stage, unable to watch anymore, and made her way back to the table. Thor followed
on her heels, taking her hand, looking over at her with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping back a
tear, and forced a big smile.

“It’s just the baby,” she said.

Thor looked down at her huge
belly, and he understood.

“You should not be on your
feet too long anyway,” he said.

He led her gently to her
seat, and this time she sat. She needed to. She felt short of breath,
especially on this hot day, and she took a long drink on her sack of water.

Thor sat beside her, and she
soon felt better. They looked out, at the incredible bounty all around them,
thousands of people eating in harmony, from all corners of the Ring, all
corners of the Empire, here in the new King’s Court. It was like a dream.

“Did you ever imagine it
would be as glorious as this?” Thor asked.

She shook her head.

“I dreamed. And I hoped. But
no—not like this. Seeing it…it’s hard to believe.”