by D. L. Kramer
Nahtan would have preferred if the marriage be kept small, but both Mo'ani and Kile insisted that the more people who witnessed it firsthand, the fewer problems he'd have later if anyone should question it. Grudgingly, he relented and an air of celebration quickly descended on the stronghold.
The morning of the wedding, Nahtan found himself surprisingly calm. Bear found a seamstress in the village and requested a new shirt for him. The collar was embroidered with the same symbols as on his cloak, the red threads standing out brilliantly against the white cloth. Rena spent the previous night with Meda, and he could only guess what they talked about.
He was rolling up his left sleeve to buckle the sheath for the dagger onto his arm when someone knocked on his door, then opened it.
"You're not wearing that," Bear stated, closing the door behind himself.
Nahtan looked up at his friend as he finished and slid the slender dagger into the sheath.
"It's my wedding," he pointed out. "I'll wear what I want." Picking up the strip of cloth beside him, he wrapped it tightly around his wrist, tying the ends and tucking them under. He then rolled down his sleeve and fastened the cuff.
"Here," Bear reached back and untied his hair. He handed the leather thong to Nahtan. "At least make your hair look like you made an effort with it."
Nahtan took the thong and held it in his teeth while he smoothed his hair back. Holding his hair with one hand, he tied it with the other.
"Have you seen Rena yet?" he asked.
"No," Bear shook his head. Even though the motion was only slight, his fine hair fell forward around his shoulders, the longest strands reaching just past his elbows. "But she's had Meda and Adie in with her all morning."
"Those two in the same room could scare me," Nahtan decided.
"The captain won't even go near Meda's room right now," Bear told him. He reached over to pick up Nahtan's cloak, unfolding it. "Ready?" he asked, holding it up.
Nahtan turned his back to his friend and Bear laid the heavy cloak over his shoulders. Nahtan fastened it with one hand as Bear dusted off his shoulders.
"Let's go," Nahtan sighed, turning back around. Bear opened the door and held it for him, closing it behind them.
The stronghold itself was hardly altered. Those preparing for the wedding had centered most of their attention on the cathedral in the last few days. Hundreds of people milled about outside the open doors, waiting to see their prophesied king married. Bear and Nahtan worked their way through the crowd and to the cathedral's doors. Inside, wildflowers were twisted into garlands then hung along the walls, around the three statues, across the top of the altar and at the edge of each pew. A brazier sat on the altar, a few coals already poured into it. Nahtan knew the wedding would proceed very closely to Jerai's, the only variation would be the lack of formal speech.
Mo'ani, Kile, Matthios and Evaine were the only ones inside. Nahtan and Bear walked to stand by them and Evaine smiled at both of them.
"You know," Lady Bavol said to Nahtan. "Most people don't worry about having children until after they're married."
"The baby will be born after we're married," Nahtan shrugged.
Mo'ani chuckled. "Like you're one to talk, Evaine," he said. "You who swore you'd never have children."
"And I haven't," Evaine met Mo'ani's gaze. "Matthios has always been happy with his sons, I see no reason to endanger my health to give him something he already has. Besides," she paused. "I'm probably too old now."
"When we were married, I promised Evaine she'd have her freedom to make her own decisions," Matthios said evenly. His voice lacked some of its usual strength, and Nahtan knew the last few weeks had been hard on him.
"So Rena and I have things a little reversed," Nahtan said. "The point is, the baby's mine and even if she told me it was someone else's, I'd still raise it and claim it as mine if that's what she wanted."
Evaine raised up to kiss his cheek. "You are one of the dearest men I've ever known," she told him.
"You might not say that when you see what's left of the Archbishop's armies when I'm through with them," Nahtan returned.
Evaine smiled again. "If you manage to do what you want, I'll tell you you're one of the luckiest men I've ever known."
They were interrupted when Pater Isak appeared on the dais.
"Everyone is anxious to get started," he told them. "Lady Adiella just informed me Rena is ready, Nahtan should get to his place while everyone comes in."
"Good luck, lad," Kile nodded to Nahtan. Nahtan nodded in return and walked to his end of the aisle at the front of the cathedral.
Almost immediately, the cathedral doors opened, letting everyone in. The room continued to fill until people were standing along the sides and across the back in several rows. Nahtan wasn't sure how many people filled the room, but he knew it was quite a few more than had come to see him cloaked, and that crowd had been impressive.
Motion straight across from him drew his attention. He quickly forgot everyone was there when Adie and Meda escorted Rena to her side of the aisle. Nahtan's heart leapt to his throat when he saw Rena and he was nearly overcome with his love for her. Adie moved to sit beside Kile and Mo'ani while Meda stayed for a moment longer, then turned and sat in the front pew, still holding Rena's hand for a second longer.
Rena's hair was pulled up, with tiny wildflowers woven through it. She wore a simple dress and it hung loosely from her shoulders. Bright silk ribbons were stitched to the bodice and hung down the length of the skirt, rippling with every move she made. Nahtan thought she looked awfully pale and hoped she hadn't been sick the night before.
A hush fell over the crowd. The silence was soon broken by Bear's flute, the notes drifting lightly. On Isak's nod, they walked toward each other, meeting in the center before the altar. Nahtan took Rena's hand as they turned to face Isak, but it was she who lifted their hands even with the brazier. For as pale as she was, her hand was warm against his and he felt some relief at that.
Isak wrapped a silk cord around their hands. "We come today to bear witness to the marriage of Nahtan and Rena," Isak said, his voice carrying to the farthest corners of the cathedral, though he didn't seem to have raised it. "There are no parents to name for their souls and so they stand before Zakris and his daughters as the beginning of a new family line among the mortals." Isak paused for a moment, his eyes looking over both Nahtan and Rena. Nahtan thought he looked troubled, but couldn't be sure. "The child that will result from this marriage will be the beginning of this new line and will be greatly blessed by Zakris, Halona and Jensina."
Nahtan smiled when Rena blushed, glad Isak hadn't told everyone she was already pregnant. He didn't doubt many would guess, but there would be plenty who wouldn't.
"There will come a time soon when the two of you will be apart," Isak continued. "Find strength in your love for each other to bear that time, as it will bring you through the loneliest of nights and bloodiest of battles."
Isak nodded to them, but before they could reach to remove the cord, it burst into flames on their wrists. Startled gasps came from the cathedral and before they could pull their hands away, the cord was consumed. Nahtan's heart pounded when he saw there were no burns on either of them. Nothing remained but a few ashes on the backs of their hands. He looked at Rena and saw she was equally shaken. Apparently one of the gods simply couldn't wait to show their approval of the marriage.
"Thy marriage will be truly blessed," Isak noted, nodding his approval. "And no doubt the minstrels will find many a tale to tell of the wedding."
Amid the murmurs and surprised rustling in the room, Nahtan and Rena turned around to face the crowd of people. They began walking slowly down the center aisle to the doors, signifying the beginning of their life together.
Everyone stood and followed them from the cathedral and out to the central yard where a huge feast had been laid out while the ceremony was taking place. Nahtan tried to keep too many people from bothering Rena with their well-wishing, but
he eventually gave up and settled for just sitting beside her. Bear hovered nearby and when Nahtan sighed and looked over at him, he took on the duty of diverting anyone who approached the couple too many times or tried to stay too long.
The celebration promised to go on through the day and well into the night. Nahtan continued to sit with Rena, making sure she had anything she wanted. Shortly after the torches were lit, he could see how exhausted she was. Taking her arm, he escorted her back into the keep. Taking her to his room, he lay beside her as she settled for the night.
"You should go back out," Rena advised him, her voice quiet.
"I want to stay with you," Nahtan argued. "There isn't any reason for me to go back out there."
Rena turned to look at him over her shoulder. "They all need a reason to celebrate," she said gently. "The least you can do is be there with them."
Nahtan sighed, knowing she was right. Next year promised to be long and bloody and the Mo'ani would need every light moment they could seize between now and then.
"All right," he relented. "But I won't be gone too long."
"I love you," Rena whispered, turning back around and pulling the wool blanket under her chin.
Nahtan brushed a kiss past her cheek then pushed himself to his feet. On his way back out to the celebration, he found Adie waiting in the main hall.
"How's Rena?" she asked.
"Tired," Nahtan answered. "But Meda insists that's normal."
"Now, how are you?" Her blue eyes searched his, but he couldn't guess what she was looking for.
Nahtan shrugged. "I think I'll be better when all this is over," he confided. "I don't like the thought of leaving Rena this spring, but she'll be so close to having the baby, there's no way she could go."
"It won't be easy," Adie agreed. "She'll be in good hands here, though."
"That's what I'm counting on," Nahtan said. "That's probably the only way I'll be able to leave her."
"Come on," Adie slipped her arm into his. "Kile's off getting drunk with Janec and I have this requirement that I can only be seen on the arm of a Mo'ani with a red and gold cloak."
Nahtan nodded slowly. "So I guess that sort of limits you to spending the evening with me, doesn't it?" he asked her.
"We can laugh at the rest of them when they're falling all over themselves," Adie suggested.
Nahtan pushed open the keep's door and escorted her back out to the celebration. While the rest of the celebrants drank, laughed and played games, Nahtan and Adie sat quietly and talked. Adie reassured Nahtan's doubts and he found some comfort in her steadfast assurances that everything would turn out all right.
The first snow came a couple of weeks later. The volunteers from the other holds began arriving shortly afterward. When the last reached the stronghold, Nahtan's army numbered almost three hundred. It was more than he wanted, since he was hoping to keep from being spotted, but he wouldn't turn any of them away. Among the volunteers from Bavol Hold was Bear's brother. Tuketu wasn't about to let them go without him, even though he had received his cloak only a few weeks before.
While not a particularly harsh winter, it seemed to go on forever. Every time he looked at Rena, he was reminded of what was coming with the spring thaw. As the baby inside her grew, he started to doubt more and more that he would be able to leave her.
In the middle of winter, they received word of several merchant's caravans being attacked by church guards on the east road to Herridon. Many merchants and traders used the road since it connected them with small farm villages and the other cities. Apparently the church guards had begun to hear rumors that Nahtan had come, and they were trying to learn what those who traveled the roads closest to the stronghold saw or heard. If the church guards didn't believe a merchant, he was beaten and left without his horse, wagon and supplies.
Nahtan refused to let the violence continue and asked for volunteers to go with him to clear the church guards from the road. He couldn't let the lives of innocent people be ruined, especially when he held the power to stop it.
Tyran sensed Nahtan's resolve, and was anxious to go. When Tavish fitted him with full barding, he lifted his hooves with pride. Nahtan left most of his armor behind, wearing only leather. His sword was instantly a comfortable weight across his back and he put his cloak over it.
"Are ye about ready?" Kile asked, checking Nicho's saddle one last time before pulling himself onto the warhorse's back.
Nahtan nodded and turned when a shadow stepped up behind him. Rena held a blanket around her shoulders and smiled gently at him.
"Be careful," she advised.
"Don't worry, I will," he promised. He kissed her then pulled himself onto Tyran's back.
"I'll take the stretch of road to the west," Nahtan told Kile as the two groups turned toward the stronghold's gates.
Kile nodded, and as they filed through the gates, his group turned toward the east.
Nahtan led the small group of warriors to the site of the last attack. Reaching the camp, he motioned for them to stay back as he dropped from his saddle. The camp was cold, having been left far behind by the merchant occupying it. Lessons learned over a decade before came back to Nahtan instantly as he carefully walked around the site. He counted different boot prints to himself, reaching five. Another pass confirmed five horses, one missing a shoe.
"Begging your pardon, sir," one of the Mo'ani said after several long moments. "But what are you looking for?"
"The camp's too cold to follow them from here," another said.
Nahtan didn't bother looking up from the set of hoof prints he was studying. He'd seen this pattern before: when the mare had picked up a stone and nearly gone lame.
"We're looking for a group of five men, all with horses," he answered, finally looking up. "One is missing a shoe on his right front hoof, another has a stone in his left rear hoof and is nearly lame. The camp's been cold for about two days, but with the lame horse, we should be able to catch up with them." He walked to Tyran and pulled himself back into the saddle, looking evenly between the two men's eyes. He was aware they weren't sure of him, but he also knew he was right.
"And if you're wrong?" the second Mo'ani asked.
Nahtan shrugged. "Then I'll prove I'm not perfect," he replied, turning Tyran. "They went north." With a single thought from him, Tyran broke into a trot in the direction Nahtan had indicated.
Barely an hour had passed before they heard the sounds of men talking ahead of them. Nahtan hadn't thought they'd wander too far from the merchant's road and couldn't help but smile when one of the Mo'ani rode ahead then came back and confirmed it was a group of five church guards. On Nahtan's order, they rode down on the camp with no warning.
To his dismay, the church guards didn't surrender, but instead rushed to their weapons and tried attacking the Mo'ani. Forced to return the attack, he and the other Mo'ani had no choice but to cut them down.
Nahtan quickly discovered that church guard armor was no real protection against the weight of his sword when he swung it with all his strength. It only took a few short moments to kill everyone except the lowest ranking guard. The unfortunate soldier who survived was then tied to a horse with a message from Nahtan to the Archbishop, warning him to stop.
As they broke up the rest of the guards' camp, Nahtan overheard the two Mo'ani who had questioned him as they took the four other guard's horses. He didn't say anything when they mentioned the missing shoe or lame horse, but made sure to meet their eyes as he rode past them on his way back to the road. His victory against the church guards was minimal compared to the battles to come, but he knew his victory with the two Mo'ani would count for much more.
Within a few days, they cleared out all of the church guard camps they could find and the Archbishop was sent over a dozen identical messages. Nahtan wasn't questioned again when he stopped to examine a cold camp and the Mo'ani seemed to hold their breath as they waited to hear what they would be faced with each time.
Positive the Archbish
op wouldn't try the same tactic twice, Nahtan and his men returned to the stronghold. Kile and his group arrived a few hours later with stories of an equal number of fights.
Checks of the road over the next few weeks showed no more problems and things seemed to quiet down again. Winter quietly wore on and Nahtan once again found himself dreading spring.
By late winter, Rena was spending most of her time in bed. She had lost much of her strength and sometimes even sitting up for extended periods exhausted her. Nahtan spent as much time with her as he could, often checking in on her when he only had a few spare minutes.
He woke one morning to the sound of water dripping outside the window and a steady stream pouring off the roof of the keep. He didn't need to open his eyes to know the sun was shining. It had been growing steadily warmer the last few days and he'd known it was inevitable. Putting his arms around Rena, he held her close. If it stayed warm, the mountain passes would be passable by the end of the week. They'd have to start making their preparations that day.
Rena woke a short time later, and when she saw the sun shining through the narrow window, she rolled over to look at Nahtan.
"You're still here," she commented.
"I don't want to leave yet," he said.
Rena took his hand and held it against her stomach. Nahtan felt the now-familiar movement under his hand as she held it there.
"Please," Rena said quietly. "This baby needs to grow up free, and you're the only one who can give him or her that."
Nahtan slowly curled his fingers inward before taking his hand away.
"All right," he said quietly. Getting out of bed, he dressed quickly. Giving Rena a kiss goodbye, he swung his sword over his shoulder and left the room. He knew if he stayed there any longer, he wouldn't be able to leave.
The Mo'ani who came to go with him were already up and starting their preparations. Kile was directing several of them to one of the smokehouses when Nahtan approached him.