Findi
24 Fallfirst 1266
On Findi morning, Dekkard was up early, thinking about the day ahead, and that by noon he and Avraal would be married, little more than a week after he’d proposed. They’d not had much choice about the timing, not after he’d been suddenly selected to fill the Council seat left open by Haasan Decaro’s untimely death.
He glanced around the small staff bedroom, musing that, after more than two years, he’d spent his last night in the Obreduur house. Avraal had left the night before, when she and Dekkard had used their newly purchased gray Gresynt to carry the last of her clothes to her sister Emrelda’s house, where she spent the night … and where Dekkard and Avraal would be living after the wedding.
Another necessary accommodation to reality.
Recognizing that the last thing he needed was to be late, Dekkard quickly shaved and washed up, then threw on a set of old security grays to wear to breakfast. He hurried down to the staff room, where the normal Findi breakfast platter was already laid out, and poured his café and took two croissants, with his usual quince paste.
He ate quickly and had just stood to leave when Hyelda and Rhosali appeared.
“You’re leaving already?” asked Hyelda.
“Not quite. I have to load a few things in the steamer, then change into my formalwear for the wedding. You’re both going to be there, I trust?”
Rhosali grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it. You’re both good people, and I’ll be able to tell the family and everyone that I was at a councilor’s wedding.”
“I’ll be there.” Hyelda offered an amused smile. “Someone has to settle Rhosali.”
“Good.” Dekkard smiled, then turned and walked into the back hall and up to his room, where he packed his few remaining clothes, then dressed in white formalwear and carefully made his way downstairs, carrying the case, and out to the gray Gresynt.
After loading and lighting off the steamer, he waited for full pressure before starting down the drive. Since it was well before third bell, he had plenty of time. Still, he worried. Because it was a Findi, and because the New Meritorists had often created demonstrations on endday, especially at Imperial University, which was on the way to Emrelda’s and the Hillside Trinitarian Chapel, he wanted to have time to avoid any disruption. Fortunately, the university was quiet, and less than a third of a bell later he pulled the Gresynt into the chapel’s parking area, where there were only two steamers, that of Presider Buusen and another Realto he didn’t recognize.
He locked the Gresynt and walked toward the chapel with its gray stone walls and gold-tinted side windows that turned the greenish-white sunlight into a golden hue—when the sun shone through the green haze that suffused the atmosphere most days when it didn’t rain. When he entered the chapel, he could hear the harmonium, suggesting that the other Realto belonged to the organist. He vaguely recognized the music. At least, he thought he’d heard it before, but since he’d been raised in a household essentially of lapsed Solidans, his only exposure to Trinitarian hymns and music had been at the Institute and when he had accompanied the Obreduurs to chapel.
Presider Buusen’s study door was open, and Dekkard looked in and saw Buusen, clad in a simple green cassock, standing and looking out the half-open window.
The presider, a slender man, slightly taller than average height, possibly four digits shorter than Dekkard, with short-cut sandy and silver hair, turned and gestured for Dekkard to enter. “You’re a little early, Steffan.”
“More than a little,” admitted Dekkard. “I didn’t want to be late, and delays always occur when it’s most inconvenient. I also wanted to thank you, again, for being so accommodating.”
“I was free at this time.” Buusen smiled as he went on. “Emrelda’s been a good parishioner, and since you and Avraal will be living with her for a time, how could I resist the opportunity to have another young couple become part of the ward? Especially such a distinguished young couple.”
“We may not be quite so faithful in attending as Emrelda,” Dekkard replied. “I’ll have to spend time in Gaarlak, since that’s now my district.”
“I understand. There have been other councilors attending during my time here.” The presider gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “We might as well sit.”
“Thank you. How did you come to be a presider, might I ask?”
“I actually trained as a chemist, and there were questions that science couldn’t answer. Not to my satisfaction. Science is good at explaining how. I found it lacking in answering why. Perhaps it’s my weakness, but why do we think … or think we think … better than other creatures? Some believe that seabears are as intelligent as children, but they have no voices and no hands. Is it just random that we have hands and voices? Science so far cannot answer that question. There are fossilized bones that suggest we developed from arboreal creatures … but why us and not mountain ursinoids … or seabears.” Buusen shrugged. “Those questions led me here. How did you get here?”
Dekkard smiled. “It’s a very long and simple story … but the mostly simple fact was that I wasn’t a very good artisan and I turned out to have some ability as a security aide, where I slowly fell in love with my partner, who let me discover that by myself.”
“What about her?”
“We’re both reserved, Avraal more than I am, although most people wouldn’t see that.”
“How are you finding being a councilor?”
“Very carefully,” replied Dekkard wryly.
While Dekkard summarized how he’d gone from being a security aide to a councilor, what he didn’t mention was that, while he knew the routine and outward duties of a councilor, if only from observation, he had no firsthand political experience. There was also the added fact that councilors had become targets of either Commercer-linked interests or of New Meritorist demonstrators. Over the four months before the recent election, five councilors from the Council of Sixty-Six had been assassinated, and there had been four attempts on Premier Obreduur when he’d still been a councilor, attempts that Dekkard and Avraal had thwarted.
So you have to not only worry about learning how to be a councilor, but also deal with possible assassination attempts … and being married.
Dekkard pushed those thoughts away—for the moment—and finished his summary. Before long, the organist stopped practicing and began playing what Dekkard would have called prelude music. Then Emrelda appeared, wearing an ankle-length teal dress with matching gloves, shoes, and nearly transparent headscarf.
“Avraal’s ready, Presider Buusen.”
“So am I,” said Dekkard as he stood, followed by Buusen.
The presider smiled. “I won’t be the one to hold up the ceremony. We’ll give you a few minutes to get back to the bride, and then we’ll take our places.”
“She looks so beautiful,” said Emrelda, her voice catching just slightly. “You’ll see.”
Then she turned and walked back toward the main entry to the chapel.
A minute or so passed before Buusen said, “It’s time.”
Dekkard handed the two rings to the presider. “I imagine you’ll need these.”
“It will make the ceremony go a little easier.”
Dekkard and Buusen left the study, then walked along the corridor paralleling the nave, before entering the chapel proper. Dekkard stopped just short of the middle of the center aisle and turned to face the rear of the chapel. Buusen took the low step up to the sanctuary and also turned, looking down the center aisle.
Behind them was the usual golden-edged tapestry, hung from a shimmering brass rod that extended nearly the width of the sanctuary wall. Against a pale green background three golden orbs formed an arc. Within the orb on the left was a silver-edged green maple leaf, while the middle and highest orb held a silver-edged ray of golden sunlight splitting a green waterspout, and the orb on the right portrayed the outline of an antique four-masted ship haloed with the reddish-gold light of sunset on a calm sea. Though the tapestry changed each season, only the background color varied, currently a pale golden red for autumn.
Dekkard surveyed the small group in the five front pews—Premier Obreduur and Ingrella, as well as Gustoff and Nellara, although the Obreduurs’ oldest child, Axeli, was in his second year at the Military Institute; Isobel Irlende, the security empath who was replacing Avraal; Hyelda and Rhosali; the office staff members of Obreduur’s office and the few staffers from Dekkard’s office; and in the back of the chapel, two Council Guards in their green-and-black uniforms, there to protect the Premier.
Svard Roostof, seated beside Ivann Macri and his wife, flashed a warm smile at Dekkard, and then the organist began playing the bridal processional.
Not that it was really a procession, just Emrelda, followed by her younger sister. Avraal wore a long-sleeved, high-necked, and ankle-length bright emerald-green dress, which suited her trim, petite, but slightly muscular figure far better than the more traditional pale green flowing gown. Her gloves and shoes matched the dress, as did her veil, although the veil was also more transparent than traditional, revealing more clearly her shimmering bobbed black hair. She did carry the traditional bridal bouquet of white and green gardenias.
Her gray eyes were on Dekkard, and his eyes were on her.
When Emrelda neared Dekkard, she smiled and stepped to the side, watching Avraal, as was everyone in the small assemblage of friends and guests. Suddenly, or so it seemed to Dekkard, Avraal was beside him, and the two turned to face Presider Buusen.
“Today, we are gathered here to witness and acknowledge the marriage of Steffan Delos Dekkard and Avraal Mikaila Ysella and to grant their union the blessing of the Three.”
Buusen turned first to Avraal. “Is this indeed your wish and intent, freely given?”
“It is.”
Then he turned to Dekkard and repeated the question.
“It is.”
Buusen’s eyes went to those in the pews. “As we acknowledge before the Three, our days are but fleeting threads in the fabric of time, yet in this transitory existence, one buffeted by the storms of fate and chance, the ties we make and hold enable us to weather the storms of life. Among the strongest of these ties is the commitment of a man and a woman to each other. So powerful and meaningful is this tie that it is specially blessed by the Three.”
The presider turned his eyes back to Dekkard and Avraal. “Marriage is a commitment not to be taken lightly. While it can afford the greatest of rewards, it is not a commitment to abandon in times of trouble or temptation. For, like threads that are stronger when woven together, remaining bound together in times both of triumph and tribulation leads to the greatest of rewards.” Buusen turned to Avraal and nodded.
She handed the wedding bouquet and her gloves to Emrelda, then turned to face Dekkard.
Buusen lifted the two rings and said, “These rings symbolize your decision and commitment to each other. In the sight of the Three and those gathered here, you pledge that commitment.” He handed one ring to Avraal.
She accepted the ring and slipped it onto Dekkard’s finger, saying as she did, “With this ring, I pledge my faith and love to you and to us both.”
Buusen handed the second ring to Dekkard.
As had Avraal, he placed it on her finger, saying, “With this ring, I pledge my faith and love to you and to us both.” In a murmur, he added, “With thanks and gratitude for your patience and love.” He squeezed her fingers gently before releasing them.
They turned back to face the presider.
“In the sight of the Three, you have affirmed your love and commitment. May it always be so.”