by Peter Kenson
Every new arrival on the platform was greeted with a cheer from the crowd and when Rachel was escorted by Baltur to the place of honour, there was a deafening roar of approval. She looked magnificent in a dress of deepest blue that clung to her figure, sewn with hundreds of tiny diamonds that glittered in the sunlight. Around her neck she wore a sapphire and diamond necklace that Falaise had given her and on her finger, a matching ring that was a gift from Jeren.
There was a pause in the proceedings and the crowd fell silent, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the royal party. With another flourish from the trumpets, Jorgen marched out through the doorway at the head of the red cloaks escorting Falaise and Jeren. Falaise was wearing a dress of gold satin, with the skirt slashed to reveal an emerald green underskirt and a short jacket of the same emerald green, covered in sequins and gem stones that sparkled as she moved. Jeren wore a gold tunic that matched the dress but with a scarlet surcoat, richly embroidered with gold thread depicting the crests of the Lyenar and the city of Marmoros. Behind them marched Izzy, dressed as a page boy with a straight back and his chin in the air, carrying a golden crown on a velvet cushion of midnight blue.
The larger of the two thrones from the audience chamber had been placed at one end of the stage and the red cloaks arrayed themselves behind it as Falaise took Jeren’s hand and seated him on the throne. The councillors, the lords of the Lyenar people went down on one knee as Izzy walked slowly forwards. He stopped and made a bow that he had been practising for days and offered the crown to Falaise who lifted it up to show the people and then placed it on Jeren’s head. The crowd erupted in a tumult of applause as, one by one, the councillors approached to kneel and kiss the signet ring on Jeren’s hand.
When the councillors had all paid homage to the king, Jeren rose and walked towards the front of the stage. He drew his sword and raised it above his head, pushing the stud in the hilt that caused the blade to glow blue. The cheers and the applause from the jubilant crowd redoubled as he stood there acknowledging their shouts of encouragement. In the hills behind the city, a lone watcher observed the blue glitter of the sword and rushed into the cave behind him. At his signal a new sluice gate was opened and water rushed down a different channel.
After several long minutes, the fountain at the top of the gardens burst into life, sending a plume of water high into the air and soaking the spectators standing around it. One by one the other fountains down the length of the gardens started to spray water as the crowds scattered to the sides with whoops of delight.
Jeren lowered the sword and sheathed it. The noise abated slightly as the crowd waited to see what would happen next. He looked around the stage and then walked over to where Rachel was standing, took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. David and Falaise exchanged worried glances but it was too late to do anything about it. Together the young couple turned to face the people as the applause and cheers built up again. Then somewhere within the crowd a chant began that was quickly taken up and spread like wildfire. The people in the wooden grandstands started clapping and stamping in time with the chant until several thousand voices were raised in unison. Even the councillors and the red cloaks on the platform joined in, stamping their feet in time with the chant as it swelled to a crescendo of deafening proportions.
“KING JEREN. QUEEN RACHEL. KING JEREN. QUEEN RACHEL.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peter Kenson was born in Bristol, UK and grew up in an era when computers were new, exciting and the chairman of IBM forecast that there was a world market for maybe five computers. He graduated in Mathematics with a Masters in Operational Research and spent the next forty years working in IT at all levels from programmer to IT director.
He has always enjoyed reading, particularly science fiction and fantasy and wrote his first book, Sertian Princess, commuting on a train in and out of London. The family loved the story and eventually they bullied him into taking the plunge and publishing it.
After a writing gap of many years, Peter now lives in Spain with his wife Diana, where he has rediscovered his passion for creating new worlds for his stories. The climate, relaxed way of life and the odd glass of wine probably help.
Other books by Peter Kenson
SERTIAN PRINCESS (available as a Kindle eBook from Amazon)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank all the people who have helped me through the writing of TWO HEIRS, especially Denise Sissons, Jan Billingham, Don and Hilary Grant, for hours reading the drafts and most of all, my wife Diana and my sons Ken and Andrew for their support and encouragement throughout.