“Thanks Ahnao, thanks Ellyn. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” Julia said, turning this way and that in front of the mirror. Ahnao and Ellyn had spent all morning helping to alter the dress to fit.
“Oh, I think you would have managed,” Ahnao said with a laugh. “I know you too well. You wouldn’t have let Keverin get away, dress or no dress.”
Julia grinned. “You’re right about that, but this is much nicer for a wedding than my leathers.”
Ellyn smiled and gathered up the scraps left over from their hard work. “Oh I don’t know about that. They looked nice in a scandalous sort of way, and very comfortable.”
Julia laughed. She had stopped worrying about scandalising people long ago. Living with the Clans after her kidnapping had been liberating in one way; it had been free of petty worries like how she looked. Of course, it had been fraught with other concerns. Things like staying alive and killing her enemies. Thoughts of one enemy in particular silenced her laughter. General bloody Navarien wasn’t playing fair. His sorcerers had changed their strategy from offence to defence forcing the Shamen to respond in kind. With both sides warding their forces, and neither being able to strike effectively with magic, the war had come down to pitting man against man again. War in Deva had come full circle—sword against sword.
“Julia, you’re frowning again,” Ahnao chided. “Stop obsessing about what’s going on out there and start thinking about the wedding. You have Keverin to think about now, and if you don’t mind my saying so, its time you gave him a son. Connell will need someone to jump fences with!”
Julia grinned. “I made a start on that last night.”
“You didn’t!” Ahnao gasped.
Ellyn looked just as shocked. “What would Gideon say?”
“Don’t scold me. Kev appeared out of nowhere like a ghost and I just couldn’t wait any longer. I did make him promise to wed me today.”
“Yes, but still…” Ahnao shook her head. “You are so odd sometimes.”
Ellyn nodded emphatically. “But we love you anyway.”
“I love you too, guys. I… I know I haven’t been a good friend, but I’m going to make it up to you… I just…”
“Oh hush up!” Ellyn said, stuffing the scraps into her basket. “It’s your God be blessed wedding day! It’s no time for tears, and if you keep on I’m going to be blubbering like an idiot.”
“Me too,” Ahnao said, looking suspiciously bright eyed.
Julia tried to smile, but it felt false. “I have to say this, and then I’ll shut up about it. When Kev… when I knew he was dead, I wanted to join him so bad that I nearly gave up and used my magic to kill myself.” Julia ignored the gasps from her friends and went on in a very quiet voice devoid of emotion. “I didn’t obviously, but it was a close thing. Killing Navarien drove me on. I wanted revenge for Kev before I let go. People say I’m mad—”
“What people? Show them to me and I’ll put them straight!” Ellyn said.
Julia shrugged. “Just people, everyone really, but it doesn’t matter. They were right anyway. If it wasn’t for Lucius and Mathius I wouldn’t be here now. They kept me alive and and sane enough to keep fighting. I owe them so much. If not for them, I wouldn’t be alive for my wedding day. I owe all my friends more than I can ever repay for staying with me.”
“Friends don’t owe,” Ahnao said indignantly. “They do it out of love.”
Julia nodded, they were right. She hugged Ahnao, dragging Ellyn in a moment later. “I love you both very much.”
They cried and laughed at the silliness of it.
The moment of closeness was soon over; Ellyn said she wanted to make sure things were ready in the chapel. Lady Direlle was taking care of the preparations down there, she and her lord husband were the hosts after all, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Ahnao said she would change and then come back to escort Julia downstairs.
With her friends gone, Julia had only her thoughts for company. Something she had managed to avoid since she lost Kev. “He’s back now. You didn’t lose him; you just misplaced him!” Julia said to fill the quiet. She grinned but it faded all too soon as other thoughts intruded. “How did they hide him from me?”
Julia shook her head. She doubted she would ever know. She turned to look in the mirror. The dress looked nothing like any wedding dress she had ever seen. In fact, Devan brides didn’t wear a formal wedding dress, nor had Ahnao ever heard of the traditional veil Julia’s birth people would associate with a church wedding. Her gown was one of Ahnao’s dresses altered to fit. Julia was shorter than Ahnao, thank goodness, and it fit her perfectly now. Instead of a veil, Devan brides wore a crown of flowers. Mathius had provided one, somehow magically finding the sweet smelling white blooms out of season and in the middle of a battlefield. She was wearing the crown now. It looked and smelled wonderful, but she couldn’t help thinking about the unintended symbolism of it. She shivered; flowers from a battlefield? She hoped it didn’t mean anything.
Lucius had provided the rings; one tradition her birth people shared with Deva. He had carried the gold bands with him for years, hoping to give them to his mother, but that dream had died long ago. He had never found her. Julia had accepted the gesture because it meant so much to him, and she hadn’t protested when he fussed about the fit and the design. She secretly wished she could have given her father’s wedding ring to Keverin, but it was lost to her as was her mother’s ring along with everything else she had owned back on Earth. Lucius’ rings glowed subtly with the magic he'd used to size and decorate them. The glow was barely visible and might have been dismissed as a trick of the light had she not been a mage herself. The rings were a matched pair now in more than just looks. Lucius swore they would bring good fortune. Julia wasn’t adverse to that. They needed all the luck they could get.
* * *
“…supply caches. The boy walked in as bold as you please and told me how to run the war, can you imagine?” King Gylaren the First said, from where he slouched in a chair watching the proceedings.
Keverin raised his arms, and Purcell knelt on the rugs in front of him to wrap the sash around Keverin’s waist. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”
“Oh I agree,” Gylaren said. “I wouldn’t have followed the advice if I didn’t! It’s too loose, Purcell, he’ll be tripping over the damn thing before he gets half way to the altar. And it’s crooked.”
Purcell grunted in annoyance, and scowled at Gylaren over his shoulder. “Do you want to do this?”
“I think I better. Get out of the way and let a real man show you how it’s done!”
Keverin laughed. “Better let him. It does look a bit crooked now that I think about it.”
The King took Purcell’s place and unwound the dark green sash. “You didn’t leave enough for the knot either.”
“I’ve been dressing myself for years,” Purcell protested taking up his wine glass again. “Mine isn’t crooked.”
Gylaren grinned. “That’s because you had a servant wind it, and don’t tell me you didn’t. I know you did.”
“I might have,” Purcell said loftily and they all laughed. “With the way things are, it’s a shame this has to happen now. Isolde and the children would want to be here. They’ll be a bit upset with me when they find out they missed Julia’s wedding. And what about Farran? I bet he wanted to perform the ceremony as he did for your father.”
Keverin nodded. The Holy Father had indeed wanted to perform the ceremony, but in Devarr not here or at Athione. “I’m just glad it’s happening at all. I never thought I would marry anyone. When Julia came to Athione, I knew she was the one I wanted. All I could do was pray that she felt the same about me. I should have done this a long time ago. It may have changed the way things turned out.”
Gylaren knotted the sash and smoothed the trailing ends that hung from Keverin’s left hip. “There. Here’s a bit of advice for anyone soon to be married, stop looking back at what might have been. You’ll both be happier for it.”
Keverin helped his King to his feet. “I’ll do my best.”
Gylaren poured more wine and gave one to Keverin. “A toast to the happy couple, my good friends. Long life and happiness!”
“Keverin and Julia,” Purcell said.
Keverin raised his glass. “To Julia.”
They touched glasses and drank.
Purcell put his empty glass down and stood at the window. “They’re being awfully quiet out there. Do you think they know about the wedding?”
“My guess is yes,” Gylaren said. “But I doubt that’s why they’re quiet.”
Keverin pursed his lips in thought. “I don’t know. Navarien seemed a decent sort to me. He might hold back to honour Julia.”
Purcell snorted.
“No really,” Keverin said, stroking the golden torque at his throat. “I’m alive today because of him. When they captured me, Navarien called one of his sorcerers to heal me, and he made the man give this back.”
“Clan work is it not?” Gylaren asked. “I’ve seen a fair few of those since coming here.”
“No, Julia made this one. Any others you’ve seen must have been worn by Clan chiefs.” Keverin remembered the sorcerer, Anius, taking the torque, and Navarien returning it some time later with an apology. “Navarien is our enemy, but he’s an honourable one.”
Keverin joined Purcell at the window and stared at the scarred land beyond the moat. The battle lines of both sides were clearly visible from here. Cook fires were alight and the men were eating the midday meal. Thousands of men still lined the earthworks that Jihan had designed, and that reassured him. They wouldn’t be taken unawares. Marcus was out there caring for Athione’s guardsmen and wouldn’t be at the wedding because of that duty. Keverin had talked to him earlier and received congratulations from him and the men. Dozens of people had come to see him since his arrival, mostly nobles who had heeded their King’s call to arms. They all sent their best wishes, but the chapel was too small for them to attend the ceremony, and Keverin was glad. He wanted Julia and his closest friends there, not strangers. Besides, there was a war on and they didn’t dare strip the army of all its commanders, not even for a candlemark.
“Have you decided yet which of you will be my sword brother?” Keverin asked.
Strictly speaking, he should have asked one of them to perform that duty himself, but he couldn’t choose one over the other. He'd stood for Jihan at his wedding to Ahnao, and probably would have chosen Jihan for his sword brother had they been at Athione.
“I will of course,” Gylaren said smugly. “I outrank you, Purcell.”
Purcell grumbled, but he was smiling. “That means I get to play Julia’s father then.”
Gylaren made to protest but then he frowned. “Damn, you’re right.”
Keverin laughed remembering a conversation he’d had with Julia a long time ago about this moment. “I wish Jihan didn’t have to stay with the army. It feels wrong having only us three there.”
Gylaren nodded. “I know what you mean, but one of us had to take overall command while we get you properly married, and Jihan knows the defences best. Besides, strictly speaking there are only three Lord Protectors here, not all four.”
That was true, but Keverin still thought of Gylaren as their fourth. In fact, his son Niklaus was Lord Protector of the South these days, but he had been ordered to stay at Meilan to protect against an attack through the pass by the soldiers of Tindebrai stationed at Orrisa. God help him should such a thing occur. Meilan’s best guardsmen were here under the command of his brother, Lord Gydrid.
The door to his suite opened to admit Lady Ahnao. Keverin and the others bowed to her and she curtsied. She was getting better at it, and hardly wobbled. Gylaren took her hand and helped her rise. She looked wonderful in her pale blue dress. If he wasn't mistaken, she'd worn this one to Gylaren’s coronation.
“Is it time?” Keverin asked eagerly.
Ahnao smiled. “Julia is ready, but you have to go down first. I’ve come to fetch… let me guess. Purcell?”
Purcell laughed. “Right first time.”
“Come then, Julia is waiting.”
Purcell escorted Ahnao out of the room and on to the women’s quarter of the keep.
Keverin took a deep shaky breath. He was well on his way to a half century in age, yet he felt as excited as a boy a third his age. He couldn’t wait to see Julia, couldn’t wait to hold her hand, to kiss her and marry her and hold her forever.
“Here, we need to get you ready. Let me crown you,” Gylaren said and laughed. “Fitting don’t you think, a King doing the crowning?”
Keverin leaned forward and Gylaren placed the crown of white flowers on his head. “Does it look all right? It doesn’t look silly does it? I want Julia to like it.”
“She will, not that she’ll notice the flowers. She’ll be too busy looking in your eyes…” Gylaren paused, remembering his own wedding so long ago, and his dead wife. “Yes, well. Like I said, she’ll love you no matter what you look like.”
Keverin took his friend’s hand, feeling his pain. “Thank you for that.”
Gylaren nodded looking away. “So… I guess it’s time we went down.
Keverin nodded and followed his King out the door.
* * *
“You look wonderful, Julia,” Purcell said. “I am honoured to stand in your father’s stead today.
Julia tightened her hold on his arm. “Thank you.”
They paused at the carved wooden doors of the chapel for a count of five before they opened to admit them. Julia’s eyes lit with pleasure when she saw Keverin waiting by the altar. He looked beautiful in a pearl coloured doublet. The arms had slashes in them and revealed a dark green interior to match his sash. He turned to watch her as she entered, and smiled. Julia’s breath quickened, and it was only Purcell’s measured pace that prevented her sprinting up the aisle and jumping into his arms.
Gylaren whispered something to Kev, and he nodded not taking his eyes from her. Gy was standing next to him performing his duty as sword brother. His sword was bared point down and grounded between his feet, ready to protect Keverin. His was the only weapon allowed inside the chapel, and wasn’t at all necessary. No one but a sword brother would dare bring a weapon into a chapel and into the God’s presence, but the tradition dated back to the Founding and maybe before that.
Bishop Gideon stood in front of the altar with his hands clasped before him, smiling benignly. He had been Athione’s resident priest and Keverin’s tutor for years. In recent times, the Holy Father raised Gideon to the position of bishop, after recalling the previous holder of the office for dabbling in politics against his Holiness’ wishes. Julia called Gideon her friend and her confessor, though such things as confessors were unknown in Deva. He listened to her fears and desires, and often advised her when she asked him for help. Although a bishop now, he still wore a plain white priest’s robe with its rope belt. It seemed to glow in the candlelight.
The chapel was a small one, about half the size of the one at Athione. Lord Gelain and his consort Lady Direlle were standing near the front with Mathius and Lucius. Lorcan was standing sandwiched between them in his new robe. Julia smiled at them all as she slowly walked toward Gideon. Ahnao and Ellyn were standing on the left opposite the mages, looking beautiful in their best dresses, and beside them was Analise and Gydrid. The light from hundreds of candles lit the chapel, revealing the happy smiling faces of people she knew from the Clans as well as those she knew from Deva. Lords young and old bowed as she passed.
She smiled at Lord Robsort, and nodded to Lord Horton. Blaise, one of Keverin’s oldest friends bowed but then against all custom blew her a kiss. She caught Brian’s eye as she neared him. He was standing with Burke and Alvin, both looking nervous and out of place next to the imposing Lord Horton. She winked at Alvin and he grinned. Kadar, the chief of her adopted clan was here, and with him were her friends among the shamen. They all looked splendid in their best leathers, especially Kerrion and Larn with the colourful beadwork decorating their clothes. Kerrion was her adopted father in the clans. She had worried about hurting his feelings by leaving him out of the ceremony, but he had just laughed about it. He said that as her husband to be was Devan, she should be married according to his customs. She wished Jessica could have been here, and she did miss Jihan’s presence, but other than that, it was a perfect day.
Gylaren stepped in front of Keverin, protecting him and raising his sword to lightly touch Purcell’s chest. “Who comes?”
“I do—Purcell, Lord Protector of the East, stand before you with my daughter.”
“And who is your daughter?”
“She is Julia, betrothed to Keverin Lord Protector of the West and much beloved by him.”
Gylaren smiled and put up his sword. He stepped back and out of the way. Purcell raised Julia’s hand and kissed it, before joining Gylaren. Keverin stepped forward to Julia’s side. She looked at his face with eyes shining and full of love for him. Together and holding hands, they finished their journey to the altar where Gideon waited.
Gideon raised his hands, thumb to thumb and middle finger to middle finger, forming a circle. “Good friends, we gather here today to witness this joyous celebration of love between Julia and Keverin, and to support them in their decision to be joined as one in the sight of the God. Who brings this woman to be married to this man?”
Purcell stepped forward. “I do.”
Gideon nodded. “By what right?”
“By her wish and my love for her, I stand in her father’s stead.”
Gideon turned to Keverin. “Who brings this man to be married to this woman?”
Gylaren stepped forward. “I do.”
“By what right?”
“By his wish and my love for him, I stand as sword brother.”
Gideon lowered his hands. “So be it. Let it be known that Julia and Keverin are come to this holy place of their own wills to be wed. If anyone knows of any reason why this may not be so, let them speak now.”
Gideon made a show of looking to the spectators, but no one spoke up. Julia smiled as Keverin squeezed her hand. It was silly, but she had tensed when Gideon asked if anyone had objections. After a long pause and when no one said anything, Gideon placed a hand on Julia’s head and reached up to do the same with Keverin. Keverin had to lean forward so he could reach.
“May the God bless this union, may it be fruitful and long. What do you bring as tokens of your love?”
Lucius handed the rings to Gideon and stepped back.
Gideon held them in one cupped hand and covered them with the other. “Let us bless these tokens. Circles represent the God and eternity, and though our lives are finite, God’s love for us is everlasting. Through Him may we know ourselves; through His love may we find love and the force that gives new life. In making this commitment to loving each other, you share that which is best in us all and give light back to the world. His blessings be upon these rings and your love, Julia and Keverin, always.”
Gideon handed the rings to them. “Speak your vows so all might hear your pledges.”
Keverin took the ring and turned to Julia, his eyes shining and full of love for her. He gently slid the ring onto her finger and said in a strong voice, “I, Keverin, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life within my body and the love in my heart, take thee Julia as my chosen wife. I pledge to desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond.”
Tears spilled over Julia’s cheeks, as she slid the ring onto Keverin’s ring finger. “I, Julia, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life within my body and the love in my heart, take thee Keverin as my chosen husband. I pledge to desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond.”
Gideon raised his hands above his head. “I declare you husband and wife. You may kiss!”
Julia threw herself into Keverin’s arms, ignoring the polite laughter and kissed him as if her life depended upon it.
* * *