Read Online The Fortress of Glass by Drake David - Free Book Online
Authors: Drake David
Tags: Speculative Fiction
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stand and crown Prince Protas with the ancient topaz diadem-he'll be holding that through the rites. There'll be a general acclamation. I hope-"
He looked coldly at Sharina.
"-that we may expect the royal party to join in the acclamation?"
"You may," Sharina said in a neutral voice.
Lord Martous took a deep breath. "Then," he said, clasping his hands, "I believe we're ready for the ceremony. Except for the seating arrangements. If you don't mind, I'll take my leave now. I need to talk with the master of the boys' choir."
"I hope your discussions go well, milord," Sharina said, but the chamberlain was already halfway to the door.
She knew she should feel more charitable toward him. Only a fussy little fellow concerned with trivia could've made a good chamberlain. Given that, Martous was more than competent.
Tenoctris faced the pyre, but Sharina couldn't tell where the old wizard's mind was. "How do the arrangements strike you, Tenoctris?" she asked.
"What?" the wizard said, falling back into the present. "Oh. The arrangements seem perfectly regular. A little ornate for so-"
She smiled.
"-rural a place, but one finds that sort of thing in backwaters... if you'll forgive my prejudices. I've always been more comfortable in communities that value books over turnips."
"I'm glad to hear it's all right," Sharina said. "I was worried that something might happen."
"So am I, my dear," Tenoctris said. "The human arrangements are regular, as I said; but I'm by no means sure that we humans will have the final say in what happens tomorrow."
* * *
The combined signallers of the royal army, some fifty men with either straight trumpets or horns coiled about their bodies, stopped playing at a signal from Liane. It seemed to Garric that the plaza still trembled. Even so there was only an instant's pause before the combined signallers of the fleet, fifty more men determined to outdo their army counterparts, took up the challenge.
Garric groaned, looking down at the topaz crown resting on a pillow in his lap. The images in the heart of the yellow stone danced in the play of the sun. He hid a grimace and leaned to his left, bringing his lips close to Sharina's ear. He had to be careful because he was wearing his dress helmet, a silvered casque from which flared gilt wings.
"I should never have allowed them to do this," Garric said. "It was Lord Tadai's idea, a way that we could contribute something unique to the funeral ceremonies, but it's awful."
"The locals seem to like it," said Sharina. He more read the words on her smiling lips than heard them. "I'm sure they've never heard anything like it before."
Neither had Garric, though some really severe winter storms had been almost as deafeningly bad. The signallers were skilled beyond question, but they and their instruments were intended to blare commands through the chaos of battle. It was remarkable what they could do when grouped together and filled with a spirit of rivalry.
But as Sharina'd said, the islanders filling the plaza seemed to love it. That went for both country folk and the residents of Mona itself. City-dwellers on First Atara tended to sew bright-colored ribbons on their dress garments, but there wasn't as much distinction between urban and rural as there would've been on Ornifal or even Haft.
Sharina wore court robes of silk brocade with embroidery and a cloth-of-gold appliqué to make them even stiffer and heavier. Garric's molded and silvered breastplate wasn't comfortable, but at least it wouldn't prevent him from swinging a sword. The court robes were far more restrictive.
Normally Liane would be seated slightly back of his left side, formally his aide because she wasn't legally his consort. They'd planned the wedding over a year before-but events had prevented the ceremony, and further events had pushed it back again. The royal wedding would be an important symbol that the Kingdom of the Isles was truly united for the first time in a thousand
He looked coldly at Sharina.
"-that we may expect the royal party to join in the acclamation?"
"You may," Sharina said in a neutral voice.
Lord Martous took a deep breath. "Then," he said, clasping his hands, "I believe we're ready for the ceremony. Except for the seating arrangements. If you don't mind, I'll take my leave now. I need to talk with the master of the boys' choir."
"I hope your discussions go well, milord," Sharina said, but the chamberlain was already halfway to the door.
She knew she should feel more charitable toward him. Only a fussy little fellow concerned with trivia could've made a good chamberlain. Given that, Martous was more than competent.
Tenoctris faced the pyre, but Sharina couldn't tell where the old wizard's mind was. "How do the arrangements strike you, Tenoctris?" she asked.
"What?" the wizard said, falling back into the present. "Oh. The arrangements seem perfectly regular. A little ornate for so-"
She smiled.
"-rural a place, but one finds that sort of thing in backwaters... if you'll forgive my prejudices. I've always been more comfortable in communities that value books over turnips."
"I'm glad to hear it's all right," Sharina said. "I was worried that something might happen."
"So am I, my dear," Tenoctris said. "The human arrangements are regular, as I said; but I'm by no means sure that we humans will have the final say in what happens tomorrow."
* * *
The combined signallers of the royal army, some fifty men with either straight trumpets or horns coiled about their bodies, stopped playing at a signal from Liane. It seemed to Garric that the plaza still trembled. Even so there was only an instant's pause before the combined signallers of the fleet, fifty more men determined to outdo their army counterparts, took up the challenge.
Garric groaned, looking down at the topaz crown resting on a pillow in his lap. The images in the heart of the yellow stone danced in the play of the sun. He hid a grimace and leaned to his left, bringing his lips close to Sharina's ear. He had to be careful because he was wearing his dress helmet, a silvered casque from which flared gilt wings.
"I should never have allowed them to do this," Garric said. "It was Lord Tadai's idea, a way that we could contribute something unique to the funeral ceremonies, but it's awful."
"The locals seem to like it," said Sharina. He more read the words on her smiling lips than heard them. "I'm sure they've never heard anything like it before."
Neither had Garric, though some really severe winter storms had been almost as deafeningly bad. The signallers were skilled beyond question, but they and their instruments were intended to blare commands through the chaos of battle. It was remarkable what they could do when grouped together and filled with a spirit of rivalry.
But as Sharina'd said, the islanders filling the plaza seemed to love it. That went for both country folk and the residents of Mona itself. City-dwellers on First Atara tended to sew bright-colored ribbons on their dress garments, but there wasn't as much distinction between urban and rural as there would've been on Ornifal or even Haft.
Sharina wore court robes of silk brocade with embroidery and a cloth-of-gold appliqué to make them even stiffer and heavier. Garric's molded and silvered breastplate wasn't comfortable, but at least it wouldn't prevent him from swinging a sword. The court robes were far more restrictive.
Normally Liane would be seated slightly back of his left side, formally his aide because she wasn't legally his consort. They'd planned the wedding over a year before-but events had prevented the ceremony, and further events had pushed it back again. The royal wedding would be an important symbol that the Kingdom of the Isles was truly united for the first time in a thousand
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