Heroes at Odds
Page 36
“I’d rather not take the time.” I just wanted to get the whole spectacle over with.
She shrugged. “Let’s get it started, then.”
A lot of effort had been put to arranging the garden into a traditional wedding arena. A large circle was outlined with thousands of tiny white rocks, into which had been mixed tiny shards of black sea shells. White sand was sprinkled within the circle. From the same finicky process, two paths had been created, stretching from the outer edge of the garden to the edge of the circle.
To one side there was a collection of white tables and chairs where guests would be emptying Fiona’s barrels and larder. Musicians were already playing nice bland music that was unlikely to make me crazy in front of everyone. The spectators—a lot of them, servants and tenants and local aristocrats—were already arranged between the paths.
Fiona stood in the middle of the circle, a thick black belt pulling her blue gown to her waist, two strings of red beads hanging from the leather. There were two small stools, the sort so low that one’s knees almost touched the ground. I had seen them before, with the merchant who had given to Taro and me our harmony bobs. On the ground there was an unlit candle and an empty copper bowl.
Taro and I joined Fiona in the circle.
My father and siblings were on one side of the circle, just outside the ring, and Tarce, Taro’s closest relative in the area aside from Fiona, was propped up on a crutch on the other.
The music stopped. The guests fell into silence. All I could hear was the wind, the sea, and the screaming of birds. The sky was overcast. The wind was cool. Just another normal day in Flown Raven.
“I am Fiona Keplar, Duchess of Westsea, and as such I am given the authority to create the bond of marriage between two parties. Does anyone object?”
No one did, of course.
“What is your name?” Fiona asked me.
“Dunleavy Mallorough.” My name, stripped of title.
“What is your name?” Fiona asked Taro.
“Shintaro Ivor Cear Karish.”
“Who offers Dunleavy Mallorough for marriage?”
“I do,” my mother called from the other end of one of the paths. She walked up the path to the circle, protecting the flame of a lit candle with the palm of her hand. She hesitated at the edge of the circle. “I seek entry into the marriage circle.”
“Granted,” said Fiona.
Mother stepped into the circle and then knelt before the unlit candle. “The Malloroughs offer our protection to the Karishes.” She lit the candle, than took two steps back, still remaining within the circle.
“Who offers Shintaro Karish for marriage?”
“I do.” Tarce awkwardly approached the circle, trying to manage both his crutch and a silver jug. “I seek entry into the marriage circle.”
“Granted.”
Tarce stood beside the empty bowl and poured water into it. “The Karishes offer our good health to the Malloroughs.” And then he dropped the jug with a loud clang that flipped the bowl over, spilling the water to the ground. He flushed. I felt badly for him. He’d been going through a kind of hell recently.
“Dunleavy, do you have a spouse now living?”
“I do not.”
“Shintaro, do you have a spouse now living?”
“I do not.”
“A marriage is a bond recognized by law securing a connection between two families, so they may share blood and property. It cannot be created without the full knowledgeable consent of two adults of sound mind. Do you, Dunleavy, consent to this marriage?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Shintaro, consent to this marriage?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Dunleavy, understand that as a result of this bond, you will be unable to create any other marriage bond without dissolving this one?”
“I do.”
“Do you, Shintaro, understand that as a result of this bond, you will be unable to create any other marriage bond without dissolving this one?”
“I do.”
“What do the next generation bring to the union?”
“A book of poetry,” Kaaren called out, holding up the volume. “We bring to the union our knowledge, our experience, and our thoughts.” She didn’t enter the circle, but took several steps around it.
As Tarce, instead of a parent or uncle or the like, was of Taro’s generation, the only person on hand of the next generation was Stacin. Poor young, shy Stacin, so somber in his little blue tunic and blue trousers, carrying a small bowl, with Cekina beside him to make sure he didn’t drop the bowl or wander off in the wrong direction.
When Stacin reached her, Kaaren smiled down at him. The two had spent a lot of time together, so Stacin wouldn’t be overwhelmed in Kaaren’s presence.
“What do you have, Stacin?” Fiona asked in a warm tone.
“Fruit,” Stacin said quietly.
Dried fruit, meant to bring to the union sustenance, muscle and discipline.
Kaaren leaned down and gently took the bowl from Stacin. She held out the small book. He frowned at it and looked at his mother.
“Take the book, love,” his mother told him.
He slowly did so, and once it was in his hands, Kaaren lightly touched his head before resuming her place with the rest of my family. Cekina led Stacin away.
Fiona gestured at the stools. Taro and I sat down.
Taro’s stool collapsed immediately, and he managed to stay on his feet with a twist and an oath. People twittered, and for a moment Taro looked like he’d follow the original oath with a string of aristocratic invectives. Instead, he rolled his eyes, tossed the ruins of the stool aside and sat down on his heels.
So, no, dignity wasn’t going to be a part of this public ceremony. How very like my life as a whole.
But I shouldn’t sulk. At least it wasn’t Marcus on the other side.
“Marriage is a serious endeavor,” Fiona announced. “It should not be undertaken without the intention to respect the other’s family as one’s own. Do you take the Karish family to be your own, Dunleavy?”
“I do.”
“Do you take the Mallorough family to be your own, Shintaro?”
“I do.”
“Will you hold your connection to the Karish family above all other connections, Dunleavy?”
“I will.” Though not to the Karish family, per se. I was aware that Taro had some relatives named Karish whom I’d never met. My connection to Taro, though, was, of course, the strongest one I had.
“Will you hold your connection to the Mallorough family above all other connections, Shintaro?”
“I will.”
The bindings on my hair snapped, my hair tumbling to my shoulders and into my face.
I sighed.
“Will you protect the Karish family against all who would bring them harm, Dunleavy?”
“I will.”
“Will you protect the Mallorough family against all who would bring them harm, Shintaro?”
“I will.”
Fiona pulled the knife from her belt. “Do you offer your blood, Dunleavy?”
I held out my hand, palm up. “I do.”
She sliced my palm. “Do you offer your blood, Shintaro?”
“I do.”
She sliced his palm. Then she pressed our palms together. “As blood flows from Dunleavy to Shintaro, from Shintaro to Dunleavy, respect and support flow from the Malloroughs to the Karishes, from the Karishes to the Malloroughs.”
Fiona gave one of the strings of beads to my mother, the other to Tarce. “Bind the beads as you bind your families.”
And then the strings, both of them, broke apart, all of the beads sliding to the ground and pinging off in a dozen different directions.
There was a moment of silence, and then someone said, “It’s like you’re cursed.”
“Or the marriage is,” someone else muttered.
“I don’t care as long as the wine hasn’t gone rancid,” added a third.
&
nbsp; Then someone hissed and everyone shut up.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in curses, just that I didn’t think that was what was going on right then. Taro and I were getting married. Of course it would be a farce. I was at once frustrated and amused.
My mother and Tarce just looked at each other, for a moment, clearly unsure what to do. Then my mother moved forward, taking the end of Tarce’s denuded string and wrapping it with hers.
Once they were done, Fiona took the final product and draped the strings over my wrist and then Shintaro’s. “Dunleavy and Shintaro, you are now married.”
Normally, the two parties would have decided on one family name to use, and that would have been announced. There was no way I was going to take the Karish name, aside from Taro they had all been monsters, and there was no way I was going to suggest Taro take mine. His entire request to the Empress had been to be severed from taking the Westsea title without having to give up his name. I wasn’t going to ask him to give it up now.
People applauded.
It all felt ridiculous. And this wasn’t the end of the affair. There was to be dancing and drinking and eating, and given our luck so far, a table would collapse or someone would be poisoned or someone’s crazy ex-lover would try to kill someone.
“If you would follow me!” Fiona called out. “We’ll move on to the fun part of the proceedings!”
People cheered and there was a great wave of movement.
Except my family. And Taro.
Or, more properly, my family.
It was interesting, the power of words, the enormous change they could create. And they didn’t always need to be part of a cast to do it.
Dias shocked everyone by sort of jumping on Taro, arm around my Source’s shoulder. “Welcome to the family, big brother!” And because Dias was actually bigger than Taro, he had to lean down a little to kiss my husband’s temple. “Can I borrow some money?”
Taro snorted and tried to shove him away. Unsuccessfully. And then, before my eyes, they degenerated into some kind of weird wrestling . . . thing. Had they both turned into thirteen-year-olds?
My father smirked, my mother sighed. “I’d hoped Shintaro might have been an influence for maturity.”
“Instead of the other way around.” Taro was no grappler, but I had a feeling Dias was being a little careful with him.
Taro’s hair had become undone and one of his broaches had snapped off. He was grinning and his eyes were shining.
I felt a knot in my chest loosen, and I couldn’t help smiling.
My father, displaying great care and agility, managed to get close enough to put a hand on the back of the neck of both Taro and Dias. Dias released Taro immediately. It took Taro a few more moments to understand the signal, but he eventually let Dias go.
“Not in front of the tenants, children,” Father scolded them. Then he kissed Taro on the forehead. “Welcome to the family. There’s room for another son.”
Taro was practiced at hiding his thoughts and feelings behind a bland expression on his face, and he was clearly trying to do so right then, but it was obvious he was almost overwhelmed by this invitation of inclusion. I silently berated myself for once more failing to understand something Taro had needed. The fact that his blood family had neglected and deliberately excluded him had created an injury he had always carried. I’d never considered the possibility of proposing he join mine.
Wasn’t that the best reason to marry someone?
So, I could feel content with that.
A handful of weeks of tension and worry—panic, really—was finally soothing out. I was able to give something to Taro that he had always lacked, and I no longer resented the fact that I had to do it. Fiona’s title was firmly in her hands, and no one was going to try to take it from her. And the Triple S, they seemed to be leaving us alone, at least for a while.
It felt like I could breathe again. Everything seemed calm. My imagination, I knew, was fairly limited, but it looked to me like no one was going to be going crazy anytime soon.
So, it was all good. Finally.
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RESENTING THE HERO
THE HERO STRIKES BACK
HEROES ADRIFT
HEROES AT RISK
HEROES RETURN
HEROES AT ODDS