by J. P. Wagner
The king, however, was smiling when he saw Carrtog, “Ah, Lord Carrtog. Good day to you!”
Carrtog bowed properly. “A good day to you, also, Your Majesty.”
The king’s expression was the one Carrtog remembered whenever Bornival had proposed another reward. Carrtog tried not to feel trepidatious about that either.
“Lord Carrtog, I am about to go out at the head of the Army to deal with this so called Black Powder Rebellion. I realize I may be rushing you a bit, but I would very much like to see you wed before I leave.”
That was a surprise. “Highness, I have not yet spoken of marriage to her father!”
The king waved a hand. “Lord Melwys has agreed to allow you to speak to her. I am quite sure he will have no objections to your wedding her, a matter of a standing up before witnesses and swearing to the promises.”
Carrtog was left with nothing to say, save perhaps a complete rejection of the idea, which would almost certainly ruin his status with the king and most likely toss him out of the palace, and thus out of any chance of even speaking with the Lady Adengler.
Another thought occurred to him; it might not be good for Lady Adengler’s status if he were to object to strongly.
“Your Majesty, I will agree with your suggestion, with one proviso, that her father be asked and his consent granted beforehand.”
Of course, the wedding ceremony would require her father to be present regardless to give his consent to the match before witnesses. So it wasn’t much of a proviso, Carrtog knew, but at least it gave him a small illusion of control.
#
Yakor frowned when Carrtog told him the news. “You know what he’s doing, don’t you? He’s trying to make sure you don’t go along with his army to deal with the rebels. Once you’re married, he’ll say something on the lines of ‘Of course I can’t ask a newly married man to leave his wife and march away to war.’”
Carrtog opened his mouth to protest, then was quiet. He remembered how the king had been on the flight from the North; he didn’t think King Bornival would expect a minor lord to suddenly take on leadership decisions and make the king look bad. Most likely he didn’t want that minor lord to be around to remind him how poorly he had shown up on that same flight from the North.
“Yes, I see what you mean. And if I disobey him, I’m sure he’d find ways to demonstrate his displeasure.”
“Ah, perhaps you’re starting to get a little wisdom in that hard head of yours. Just be careful you don’t get yourself in trouble when some of those lords who’re jealous of your sudden elevation start making hints about your arranging not to have to go to war for fear of your hide.”
Carrtog clenched his teeth for a moment, then relaxed. “I’ll deal with that when it happens.”
#
The Great Hall of King Bornival was ablaze with color. There were not so many lords present as had attended the ceremony by which Carrtog had been officially granted his new lands and title, though to make up for that, almost all lords were accompanied by their wives and older children. All the wives and daughters were dressed as well as the pocketbooks of their husbands (or fathers) would allow. The occasion being a marriage, all the women were wearing at least some small item of green, though of course none of them wore gowns of green, that being reserved for the bride herself.
Carrtog, in an outfit that was so fancy as to render him extremely uncomfortable, stood beside Yakor.
Yakor leaned a little toward Carrtog and muttered, “We might still be able to make a run for it.”
Carrtog glanced over and realized that the man was speaking only partly in jest. “Too late. We’d have His Majesty and most of his Gentlemen, along with the bride’s father and a fair bunch of his retainers on our tail before we managed to get to the city gates.”
Yakor managed a twisted little smile. “In all that magic you’ve learned, was there not something about turning invisible?”
“There was— Too late! Our retreat’s cut off!”
Behind them, Lady Adengler had entered the hall on her father’s arm. One quick glance was enough to drive out all thoughts, however much in jest, of fleeing the marriage.
The bride’s gown was green, green for the beginning of new growth, green for the fertility of spring, and set off by a short-sleeved tan jacket and a necklace of polished amber beads. A pair of black shoes showed under her dress as she walked. Afterward, though he could remember clearly every item of Adengler’s attire, he could remember nothing of Melwys’ garb. Save, for some reason, that his sword was no fancy ornamental thing such as many lords wore at gatherings such as this, but an ordinary, well-worn fighting weapon, which a man might wear when there was a possible prospect of fighting. Carrtog wondered whether this might be some kind of warning that he, Carrtog, should treat Melwys’ daughter well. Not that he had any intention of doing anything else.
When they came even with Carrtog and Yakor, Melwys paused, then took one step diagonally forward, with Adengler turning with him, so that they faced Carrtog.
Melwys then took his daughter’s right hand from where it lay on his left arm and held it out to Carrtog, who took that right hand in his own left. As the tradition had been explained to Carrtog, the groom was required to keep his right hand free to use his sword. Apparently, in earlier times, a man might find himself only one of several claimants for a woman’s hand and might have to demonstrate that he was capable of fighting for her and thus, if need be, of defending her.
The old lord spoke the traditional words, “Lord Carrtog of Nandycargllwyd, in the sight of the Gods, the King, and this assembled company, I offer you the hand of this my daughter Adengler, to be your wife forever. Will you take her and keep her, with none to come between you, in good or ill, for so long as you live?”
“I will.”
He then turned to Adengler. “Adengler of Cwm Gwyrdd, will you take this man, Carrtog of Nandycargllwyd, to be your husband forever? Will you hold to him in all times, with none to come between you, in good or ill, so long as you shall live?”
“I will.”
The old lord drew his sword, setting it point-first on the floor, then took the joined hands of the couple, placing them atop the pommel, and said, “Before the Gods, the king and this assembled company, I declare you joined in wedlock, and woe to whoever seeks to pull you asunder.”
There was a small pause, and the assembled company began to clap, stamp, and shout, mostly things on the line of “Nandycargllwyd forever!”
#
The king had insisted on having the Wedding-feast held in one of the larger feasting-halls in the palace. The father of the bride, as was normal, underwrote the cost of the feast and much of the entertainment, though the king had provided for a significant part of that entertainment.
The feast included several courses with several kegs of wine.
During the feast, several jugglers, tumblers, and minstrels performed to the great delight of the assembled guests. Once the feast was done, a small orchestra took its place on a platform and began to play.
As was traditional, the bride and the groom took to the floor to begin the dancing, and fairly shortly, in pairs and groups of pairs, most of the rest of the gathering took to their feet.
Though the tradition called for the bride and groom, whenever they were dancing, to dance mostly together, they did occasionally dance with others, and sometimes did not dance at all. Of course, not all dances, not even a majority of dances, were danced as couples; there were many circle dances and line dances as well.
Wine was being served throughout, so that by the end of the evening most of the company were feeling quite mellow. Carrtog discovered, at the end of the evening, he couldn’t recall more than a few distinct faces of people he had danced with; the rest were a blur. There were several customs concerning the ending of the wedding day. Since the king had provided a suite for the married couple to spend thei
r wedding night, Carrtog and Adengler followed the custom that had a great deal of the assembled company, mostly the younger set, escorting the couple to their wedding suite following the end of the dance, with a good deal of singing and ribaldry.
Part of the custom involved hanging around in the hallway outside the suite until late in the night, in extreme cases, waking the newly-weds in the morning with more ribald singing.
On this evening, some of the crowd attempted to gather inside the suite, but Carrtog was not about to allow such an interruption. In a struggle, which was somehow half-serious, Carrtog ejected the last of them, locked the door, and turned to Adengler. “So, that’s done.”
“Yes, that’s done.”
“I’m told that last bit, there, was the last remnant of the situation where a man might well find himself fighting to kidnap his bride from amongst her family. I hope you don’t feel too much as though you’ve been kidnapped.”
Adengler, a baffled look on her face, stood watching while Carrtog prowled around the suite. Finally, he called out to her, “Heart of mine, come through here a moment!”
Still bewildered, she walked through the suite until she found him in a small antechamber with a servants’ door in one wall.
“What is it, Carrtog?”
“Did you really wish to have that noisy lot greet the dawn outside our door?”
“Not really, but how could we avoid it? The king has seen fit to give us the use of this suite, and we can hardly hide our presence.”
“Not if we stay here. But that is one advantage of having a man around who can chat with other lords’ servants and hear what the people say in the hearing of those servants.”
He rapped on the door and heard an answering rap from outside. He opened the door to reveal Yakor’s grinning face.
“All preparations made?” Carrtog asked.
“Carriage ready and waiting outside, baggage packed and stored, servants already loaded in carriages, ready to make their way to the railroad station, fares paid for everyone, carriages ordered to wait at Harragush station to take us to Nandycargllwyd itself, and the staff at Nandycargllwyd warned to be ready to welcome their new lord and lady.”
Carrtog, hearing an exclamation of surprise from Adengler, turned to look at her, questioningly.
“Will the king not be offended if we don’t make use of the suite he has given us use of?”
“Perhaps so,” Carrtog answered, “but I’ve left a polite letter begging his leave to spend a bit of time on the lands he has so graciously granted me and stating my willingness to return whenever he wishes. Even if he commands me to return immediately, given the time it takes to get a messenger out Nandycargllwyd, we should still have time to spend a day or so on the estate.”
She still looked a little doubtful. “You remember how upset he can get over the slightest things.”
Carrtog frowned slightly. “I’m hoping all the business of preparing his attack on the rebels will keep him too busy to worry about a mere annoyance of a minor lord running off to his estates for a bit. He’s already insisted that, as a very recently married man, I should not have to go off to war immediately. I suspect there’s many a young bride in a cottage in a small farm would wish the king were so understanding to her own man.”
Adengler’s expression showed she had not thought the matter through to that conclusion. “I suppose that young bride would feel the same even knowing that you saved the life of the king’s daughter.”
“I imagine that’s still the word that goes round. I doubt if many consider the real truth.”
“The real truth? The real truth is that I doubt you’ve given thought to what I’ll wear for this trip. I’d certainly not prefer to travel in this wedding-gown, fancy as it is.”
Yakor laughed. “You wrong us, lady! I consulted a young maid-servant, who thought the notion of your husband stealing you away on your wedding night to be most romantic, but insisted that the bride would prefer something comfortable to travel in. In that closet, you will find a dress more suitable for traveling, along with cases containing various things to make your trip more comfortable. I will step outside and call in two ladies who will make your dressing easier.”
Yakor stepped back out into the hallway and called two names, and momentarily two young ladies came in, each carrying a case that Carrtog thought could easily carry enough for two. All that for one lady to dress for a night’s travel?
But he said nothing. By now he had at least heard various tales about what ladies needed for any sort of occasion. But the princess and her lady-in-waiting had made do with just the clothing on their backs on the flight from Tenerack, and he’d heard few complaints. He could imagine the resulting comments were he to bring that up. But in that case there was no choice, so why complain? Now, however, we have time and facilities to bring practically whatever we want, so let us take advantage of the fact.
The two young servant-girls looked at him and, giggling, disappeared into the changing-room.
Yakor came over to stand beside Carrtog. “From what I know of women and clothes, they’ll be a while. We’d best find ourselves a place to sit down and wait. I’d suggest another drop of wine, but it’s already late, and I’m led to understand that the jakes on the train are not much to brag about.”
“No, you’re right about that. So all the plans went right, did they?”
“Yes, pretty much so. I still think you may be taking a bit of a risk, almost spitting in the king’s face like this. As your wise young wife mentioned, His Majesty’s mind is very changeable, if he takes it into his head that he’s been insulted.”
“No, as I explained to her, I wrote him a very polite and careful letter, earnestly begging his pardon for my leaving so suddenly, giving my careful list of reasons, none of which has to do with avoiding a lot of marriage-morning revelers, and seriously offering to come back to the capital if he really wishes it. I sincerely hope that I can sound sufficiently humble and obedient that he will forgive me willingly.”
“Says the joking young man, maintaining his humor even as the Headsman sharpens his axe.”
Carrtog shrugged. “As I’ve already said, I’ve written the best letter I know how to write. Besides, this way he’ll see he won’t have to find other ways to keep me from going with the Army. Nor will I be in Cragmor to cause concern over rumors.”
Even as he spoke, he realized that he would need to be careful to say nothing aloud as to what he meant by that statement. Too many people talked in the hearing of servants as if the servants were deaf, then wondered why gossip got them into trouble. There was little likelihood of the young servants hearing what was said in the main room; still ‘little likelihood’ was far from ‘no likelihood at all,’ and he was not about to take that chance.
Given his expectations, Carrtog was surprised when the door of the changing-room opened and Adengler stepped out, wearing a rather simple gold dress, trimmed with black. The dress showed her figure well, but was not so close-fitting as to become uncomfortable during a long trip.
One of the two serving-girls was carrying both suitcases, the other slipped out the servant’s door; the two still wore expressions that said this was still a delightful secret adventure. Adengler smiled. “Shall we go?”
Carrtog sprang to his feet. “Of course.”
He looked toward the door where the one girl had left. “Where is she going?”
“She’s taking a message from me to the princess, explaining where we’re going and why. I’m her friend, inasmuch as a princess can have a friend who isn’t merely looking to curry favor. If the worst happens, she can speak to the king on our behalf. He might heed her words where he might not heed another’s.”
Yakor peered out the rear entrance to the chamber, looked left and right, then turned and signaled them to follow. They made their way out into the courtyard. It was late night, cool and dark, with no
light save for that cast by a pair of oil lanterns held by a pair of menservants.
A pair of coaches stood on the road, the coachmen waiting by the opened coach doors. The man at the lead coach called out quietly, “My Lord? My Lady?” Carrtog took Adengler’s hand and led her in that direction. He handed her up into the coach, then climbed in after her. The coachman closed the door, quietly but firmly, then they felt the coach rock as he climbed to his place on the box. Carrtog called out “The Railway Station!”
A moment later the coachman’s whip snapped in the night, and they were off on their bouncing, jolting way to the Railway Station.
Carrtog glanced at Adengler and said, “Well, Adengler, this may not be the sort of wedding night you’d imagined, but I think the result will be better than spending the next little while at Court, with everyone watching us to see if we’re getting along well. If that kind of situation didn’t lead us to spending a lot of time in argument, I don’t know what would.”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “You may well be right. I think it would be better if you called me by something other than my full name. I love my parents, and they chose for me a nice romantic name, but it’s too much of a mouthful to use all the time. Even they took to shortening it to ‘Addy’ except when I was in trouble.”
“My family generally called me by my full name. The least objectionable nickname any of my peers ever came up with was ’Thirdling‘, since I was my father’s third son, and therefore could expect no inheritance.”
Adengler grinned. “If I ever call you ’Thirdling,’ you’ll know I’m trying to get your goat.”
Carrtog returned the grin. “I’ll have to try to think of something to call you in revenge.”
“Don’t bother. Being a magician and used to dealing with all kinds of incantations, I’d be afraid you were about to turn me into a toad or something.”
“Sorry, one of my tutors specializes in mechanics, the other in plant magic. The worst I could likely do is turn you into a weed.”
Chapter 12