But this was the day they should have joined. Yesterday throning, today joining. Lost hope dripped bitter on her tongue.
“Damn!” She pounded her fist into the mattress. And once more because once just didn’t seem like enough. “Damn him,” she sputtered through her unwelcome tears. Now she would have to appear at the throning of the aunt of her child, not the father as she’d always planned. Where had the damn girl come from? How had she deluded so many Council members that they’d accepted her claim as valid?
“Ah.” And then it occurred to her. The girl had used magic with Ariel; what would prevent her from doing the same with the Council?
Lorain’s mood immediately improved. This was a thread of hope to hang on to. Watch the girl. Wait until she could be caught in a web of her own devising. Then strike!
The holder of Bedel stood up from her bed. Time to dress for the throning. Observe closely everything this Ariannas did. Listen carefully to all that she said. Somewhere inside the illusion, the truth would prevail, given time. Lorain would wait. She could always wait. It was what she was singularly good at.
Ariannas sat alone in what they’d told her was a receiving room. It lay to the far south end of the Keep, and they’d left her here to await her entrance for the throning. All dressed up with no place to go. Shh, she told herself. This isn’t Kansas anymore, remember? A smile tried but failed to lighten her lips. Those who pushed, those who killed—they didn’t smile.
The breakfast she’d shared with Nalin and Elsba earlier had consisted of some kind of breaded pastry akin to a croissant stuffed with eggs, and she’d nibbled on it as they rehearsed her for the ceremony. They’d allowed her to step all the way up to the throne but not sit in it, not until the actual moment. They took this whole Empir throning thing very seriously.
Ariannas looked up at the sound of quiet footfalls entering the receiving room, and she rose in deference to the man Nalin had advised her this would be—Niko, Primate of Avaret, the most politically powerful hermit in all of Garla and, apparently, a relative of Holder Dors of Carlasa who, she’d already established, was not her ally.
“My Liege,” he said as he stepped directly over to her.
“Your Grace,” she replied, wondering where this hermit’s loyalties really lay.
“Please, do not stand on my account, my Liege.” He took her hands and pulled them lightly, urging her to resume her seat. She did, and as he sat down beside her, she wondered if she should say something or remain quiet. “I am honored to participate in your throning, my Liege.”
“Oh.” She sat up a little straighter. “Well, wouldn’t it be odd if you didn’t? Participate, I mean.”
“It is one of the Primate’s duties, but normally the Primate and the new Empir are already acquainted.”
“Well, I am Ariannas, and you are Primate Niko. And now, we are acquainted.”
“And now we are acquainted,” he answered with a smile.
“Any words of wisdom for this unproven Empir?”
“Be gentle on yourself.”
She turned in her chair to look at him. “Good advice but difficult to follow.”
“You’ve had to make difficult decisions. Ruling, by its nature, is an uneasy task. Of course, your life at Solsta Haven did teach you to sacrifice for others.”
If he only knew, Ariannas thought but smiled at him in spite of herself.
“One day others may have to sacrifice for you. Do not run from it. Embrace it. It’s your duty now.”
She struggled with that one for a moment. Ariel had already sacrificed his life. Did this Primate realize that? What did he know? She doubted he knew she’d been possessed. There’d been too little time for Hermit Teran to learn who she was, much less to send word back of what he knew about her. But the Primate probably knew she was an untrained necropath. Oh, how she wished she was a reader. This man hid his thoughts and feelings from her, not allowing her to assess his tells.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she replied finally. “I will keep your words in mind.”
A servant stuck her head in. “Your Grace, you’re needed now.”
“Yes. A moment.” He turned to Ariannas. “I see in you the greatness of a leader. You listen, you evaluate and you’ve proven your ability to act.” He stood up. “I look forward to seeing you within.” Then, with a nod, he left.
She sat there, curious as to how much longer she must wait. This Niko might be a Dors, and he certainly was a hermit of some power, yet his advice had sounded solid enough, sincere even. But she had sworn off hermits after recognizing everything that Eloise had done. No, this was her place now, her home and duty. Hermits were a necessary inconvenience to be tolerated but never again trusted.
“My Liege,” a small voice whispered at the door. Ariannas looked up to see a servant standing there, his eyes glistening in anticipation.
“Yes?”
“The summoning is near,” the servant answered.
She rose, straightened the Ilazer-green tunic which reached nearly to the floor. She wore no flowing robe, no gaudy jewelry, no special sash. Just the gilded edges of long sleeves and hem adorned her garb. Not even the Ilazer crest to identify her for who she was. That, with the emblem of the crevix, would be placed upon her in the form of a heavy bronze necklace at some point in the ceremony. So much she didn’t know or couldn’t remember. She would give anything for someone in her immediate circle who didn’t leave her floundering in the dark. They all treated this like some surprise party, not to be fully revealed until a specific magic moment. No, not a surprise party. An initiation. I hope they don’t make me swallow so much beer that I pass out. She smiled at that. She hadn’t totally lost her sense of humor, but it was fading.
“Ariannas!”
She started at her name roared out from the Great Hall. Focus, Lisen. Focus. She pushed that old name far behind her, breathed deep and stepped forward towards the hall’s southern door. This was the moment, the moment she had fought for—not that moment three nights ago in the bedchamber a floor above—this moment, here, right now.
She stepped to the entry to the Great Hall and paused. After she’d left the hall earlier this morning when it had resembled nothing more than total disarray, the servants had transformed it into a magical room of grand proportions. At the end opposite the door where she stood, a triangular-shaped dais with steps in front leading up to it had been wedged into the corner. Upon this stage Primate Niko stood, and beside him sat the throne. Her breath caught in her throat for one brief second. This is it, she thought.
On the floor, they’d arranged the benches diagonally from wall to wall with an aisle positioned in the middle to guide her directly from the door in which she stood to the throne she was about to claim. The room nearly overflowed with people, presumed dignitaries of her new realm. She’d met some of them yesterday at the reception, but even those she’d met there felt like strangers to her.
“I am here,” she responded as she’d rehearsed. The rustle of fine fabrics heralded the rising in unison of all present. She saw Nalin in the front row turn and grant her a supportive smile. Others turned as well, but his gaze eased the fidgeting of her soul.
“Come, Heir-Empir Ariannas,” Niko intoned, his voice melodious to her ears. “Come and sit and accept the rights and privileges of your birthright.”
Elsba had told her to wait until the music started. What music? She wanted to look around, but with everyone watching her, she kept her eyes forward, towards the dais and Primate Niko and waited for her cue.
It came first as a low humming no louder than a breath. Was this the music? Or were her ears playing tricks on her? Then it began to build, the humming growing into a bell-like note, then more notes intertwining. She started down the aisle, and it took everything she had to concentrate on her singular procession. Her empty hands dreamed of pockets, but she knew there were none in this robe or tunic or whatever they might call it, so she let her arms hang at her sides.
The music. Ah, the mus
ic filled her, the notes flitting from string to bell and back again. Was it a single player or an entire orchestra? She couldn’t tell. Primate Niko. Dais. She forced herself to focus. The eyes of the assembly seared her like the sun of Thristas. Funny she should think of that place now.
She arrived at the steps leading up to the dais and the throne. Primate Niko reached out a hand to guide her, and she lifted up her skirt to keep from tripping. The music built to its crescendo as she turned to face her subjects, and the breakfast egg-filled tart thing pirouetted slightly in her stomach. As the music faded, she noted its source in the southeast corner of the room. A conglomeration of brass and silver bowls with wood and metal clappers suspended over them surrounded one man in Ilazer livery, while strings and ribbons of metal stretched in various lengths from a board hung from the ceiling down to the other musician, a woman in the same livery. Apparently these artists were in her employ, and she filed away the possibility of learning how they made the air sing, hoping to speak with them on a less involving day.
She heard Primate Niko beside her open up a scroll.
“Citizens and Emperi Council,” he began to read.
The Order of Ascension Decree, she thought. Nalin had warned her this was coming, but the memories attached to this particular document dizzied her with their intensity. Flandari’s death and the revelation. Jozan’s death and the death she herself had inflicted to avoid discovery. The run to Seffa with the decree and the supporting documents folded up inside her tunic. She blinked to force herself back to the now. Primate Niko continued reading.
“Flandari, Citizen of Garla and Empir, Holder of Prea and Forn, and Protector of Thristas, gives Greetings,
“In this, the twenty-second year of our reign, on the third day of the second month, I hereby decree the following Order of Ascension.
“My first-emerged, Ariannas, shall inherit the responsibilities, rights and title of Empir. She, whom I have not seen since her emergence, should note that the responsibilities are given before all else.
“Further, as is the custom, the Holding of Prea shall pass to the Empir who succeeds me.
“To Ariel, her twin, the Holding of Forn.
“As One Is and Shall Always Be, I remain,
“Flandari,
“Citizen of Garla
“Witnessed
“Nalin Corday,
“Holder of Felane.”
Primate Niko finished and took a deep breath. “Holder Corday,” he called out.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Nalin responded, smiling at Ariannas.
“Is this your signature at the bottom of this document?”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
“And is it your testimony that you did indeed witness Empir Flandari sign this?”
“It is, Your Grace.” Nalin stood strong and firm, and Ariannas could see the assets that her mother had valued in him.
“Does any dispute remain to this document?” the Primate asked of the assembly. Ariannas held her breath. This was the moment when Holder Zanlot or any of her supporters might muck the thing up, but none of them did. The room maintained its silence.
“As One is and ever more shall be, I invite you to sit on your throne, Empir Ariannas.”
She looked up to the ceiling high above, then backed up two steps and took her place on the throne. The black cloth, a velvety fabric, had given the appearance of softness, but the seat itself was hard, less giving than wood, and cold, and Ariannas wondered if the entire throne was made of bronze like its wings.
“The Empir has passed! Long life to the Empir!” Primate Niko declared. The entire room exploded into good wishes, but Ariannas sat very still and allowed the barest upturn of the corners of her lips to acknowledge the cheers.
The room evolved from sound to silence. Primate Niko approached her now, a bronze chain hanging from something gripped within his hand. The crest, she thought and leaned forward slightly from her waist, waiting. She saw the Primate’s feet right in front of her, and the cold metal dropped down heavily over her exposed neck. She sat up again as the Primate shifted the Ilazer crevix to center on her chest.
“The Empir has passed!” he repeated. “Long life to the Empir!”
More shouting, and then everyone sat down. The musicians began to play a soft melody—different from before—and a servant entered bearing a large, ornate silver bowl. The servant stopped at the far end of the aisle and waited. Holder Dors of the dark, striking beauty rose from his place near the back—nowhere near Holder Zanlot who sat in the middle—and stepped to the servant. He took the bowl and turned to walk up the aisle. When he reached the front, he stopped.
“My Liege, I give you a silver bowl which my family has treasured for generations.” With a nod, he walked to the side of the dais and left the bowl there.
“Thank you, my lord,” Ariannas replied, and Holder Dors returned to his seat.
Another servant entered, gift in hand, then another. And another and another and another. Throning gifts of gold and silver, jeweled and unadorned, as well as small household items accompanied by promises of crops or chickens and such at the appropriate season. After each presentation, Ariannas thanked each noble whether she meant it or not and hoped that no one could tell how frivolous she thought some of the gifts actually were.
When it seemed no more gifts remained to be given, with the room growing silent once more, she expected Primate Niko to pronounce the ceremony complete, but then she heard an odd noise. A striking of hooves on stone was the closest she could get to describing it, but that couldn’t be. What would a horse be doing inside the Keep?
She saw Malaki Mira stand up and stride towards the far end of the aisle and out the door she’d come in. Curiosity teased at her thoughts, and she wanted to stretch up a little to see better, though she didn’t really need to; she could see just fine from where she sat. The hoof clatter grew louder and began to sound almost like tap dancing to her. She waited, hiding her impatience, and soon her waiting was rewarded.
She gasped as Malaki reappeared in the door, his hands holding the lead of an animal she only could have met in her dreams. Was this a dream? She didn’t think so. Everything preceding this had felt closer to nightmare. But not this. Not this…this…amazing black steed prancing in place before her. Its forelock and mane fell down long, with braids interspersed between near-ringlets. Malaki held its head close to its chest, its neck arched and the entirety of its muscles tense and rippling.
“My Liege,” Malaki said as he led the horse down the aisle. “We horse riders of Sudas celebrate your ascension with this stallion whose nobility we believe will equal your own. He looks unmanageable at the moment, I know, but I assure you he is gentle and responsive when outside where his footing is sure.”
The horse and the heir of Sudas arrived at the dais, and all Ariannas wanted to do was jump off the cold, hard throne and onto the magnificent beast. Instead, she said softly, “What is his name?”
“My Liege, we who have known him and loved him have called him Honor, but we would feel no remorse if you should decide to rename him.”
Ariannas rose, and holding the long tunic up to keep herself from tripping down the stairs, she descended to floor level, completely tossing out protocol and ceremony, and stepped over to Malaki and Honor.
Stroking the horse’s nose and smiling at a tingle of magic in the contact, she said, “He is beautiful. Thank you, Heir Mira.” She looked around to see if she could find a beaming older man who resembled the young heir before her. She’d been told that the heir and the holder looked very much alike. She found him, hair red but greying, eyes bright brown. “And Holder Mira, my thanks to you as well.” She then turned and, making sure her back was straight and her demeanor strong, returned to the triumphant throne that was now her own. There she sat, and as Malaki led Honor from the hall, Primate Niko stepped forward and raised his hands above his head.
“All is satisfied. Long life to the Empir!”
“Long life to the Empir!
” the assembly responded and rose. No applause followed, which seemed odd but somehow appropriate. This was a somber moment, not exactly a celebration. Instead, they nodded towards her, with some holding the nod longer than others. Nalin’s repeated admonitions had finally taken hold, so Ariannas did not nod back. And once they’d nodded, they turned and left the room, leaving only Ariannas and the Primate.
“Welcome to the uneasy task, my Liege,” the Primate said, and with that, he left her alone.
Well, now what? she asked herself. No one told me what to do now.
“My Liege?”
As if in answer to her question, Nalin had reentered to her right, through the same door she’d used three nights ago. “Yes?”
“You can leave now,” he said softly. “May I escort you?”
She stood up. “Yes, please. I would appreciate that.”
He came to her in a few long strides and reached up to her from the bottom of the steps. With his hand to maintain her balance, she descended from the dais. He started to lead her from the room, but when she hesitated, he stopped, too.
“What is it?” he asked.
“What do I do now?”
“Well, first you change your clothes, then have your lunch and finally meet me and Elsba in your office before this afternoon’s meeting.”
“You’re so systematic about it all,” she commented.
“I find putting one foot in front of the other works fairly well when you’re overwhelmed,” he responded.
“What makes you think I’m overwhelmed?”
“Your eyes, my Liege. Your eyes are very wide.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Empir’s Will
Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3) Page 4