The Wolves of Gryning: Chapter 25
Chapter 25: The Wedding Feast
So it was that the royal wedding came to pass. It had arrived on short notice, and just on the heels of the Lord Khiifa's funeral, leaving the beasts with very little time to prepare. The main keep had been a source of chaos, wolves worried about the attempt on their king's life; in the people's keep there had been another chaos entire, stemming from the loss of their ruler. Yet the wolves were no strangers to chaos and managed to turn it to their favor. They thrived on the energy and the buzz, and they dedicated themselves to the task of preparation. When all was said and done, the banquet hall nearly overflowed with food and wine, and the king entered with his new queen. They took their places at the head of the main table; Tanda was seated beside them, and Seshi stood off to the side with the king's sword. Thybion was seated at the head of the second table, but her sour face carried no hint of the happiness that the other beasts felt. The time for mourning had passed--the time for feasting had begun.
Three days the feasts lasted. It was an extended period of drunkenness and debauchery in Gryning, but the wolves were full of good cheer and quickly forgot the tension that had ruled them of late. The first day they toasted to the health of the royal couple; the second day they toasted to the memory of Khiifa; and on the third day of feasting they toasted to the name of all wolves. The city streets glowed with light and sparkling fireworks. Young beasts roamed the halls in packs, whooping, cavorting, tumbling into each other.
And the festivities began with this, the pronouncement made by Besegrare, with his goblet of wine raised high:
"Let the Flame burn bright in each of us, in every wolf and every beast in Gryning, and upon the face of the world!"
His words summoned Tehlina from the door at the end of the hall, and she was followed by a procession of acolytes. They carried their firetrees aloft before them, and the beasts held their breath in silence while they marched. Besegrare stood, his goblet still aloft, and Nashil followed suit. The other wolves raised their goblets, but remained quiet. Tehlina made her way down to the king and then bowed low before him.
"My lord. I come before you, high priestess of the chapter of the Order in Gryning. My blessing I bestow upon you and your mate, our new queen; may the two of you lead the rest of us through darkness, and forever walk the al-Valar."
Besegrare stooped and lowered his head, over which the high priestess waved her wand of Flame. Then she motioned for Nashil to step forward and she repeated the process. Tehlina reached into a pouch on her waist and coated her fingers in ash, which she smeared over the muzzle of the king and then over the muzzle of the queen. She bowed and intoned a low chant, harsh words of the Ancient Tongue. There was nary a wolf present who did not understand the meaning of those guttural sounds, though none of them would have been able to translate the precise meaning. Only the priests understood the exact translation, an approximation of which is this:
Let every action of this united front
Be immolated, burned to ashes
And thus shine light for every beast
Whose footsteps are in the dark.
As darkness precedes us,
And shadows lie before,
In this moment alone we see light.
Tanda understood not with his ears, like the priests, nor with his bones, like the wolves, but felt the severity of it all the same. He was driven by a curiosity which possessed him in the form of that harsh tongue, and he followed Tehlina out of the dining hall, placing a hand upon her shoulder.
"Excuse my intrusion," he said. "Can we talk?"
It turned out that Tehlina had more to talk about than he did. She tried her best to translate the speech to him, losing much of the true meaning when spoken in the Common tongue. She was trying to explain this subtlety to him when he nodded, cutting her off. He seemed unsatisfied, but said:
"I understand as well as I can."
She thought the response indicated something of wisdom in him. And is this the wisdom of a prince? She thought it would be worthless to ask him about his heritage. What will change if he is? Or if I find out he's just another fox? He's the advisor now, and what he is now means more than what he was before. A royal advisor... That's something interesting, indeed.
"Maybe you can help me with something," she said.
Tanda paused, then offered a nod in response.
"I can try. At the very least, I can listen. I don't know how much help I can be in--how shall I say this?--more religious matters."
"You do not follow the Flame," she said. Of course he doesn't. He's not a wolf, like you.
"Oh yes, I do. After a fashion. Where you wolves place importance on al-Valar, we foxes place great weight on the al-Venta unity between Flame and Shadow. Nor do we shun the other gods, whose names the Order has forgotten."
He's smarter than you thought. But what to make of this? He does not belong to the Order, or subscribe to al-Valar. Can he be trusted to advise us, or to advise me for that matter? Tehlina bit her lip, then decided she'd risk it. You've already got him here, and you have his attention. Maybe his wisdom will reveal an aspect of Flame you have not considered.
"I have visions," she explained. "Terrible visions. They don't always come when or how I'll expect them. Sometimes they come in dreams. Sometimes they appear out of nowhere, blending in with and overcoming reality. I don't know what they mean--but they've never caused me any sort of physical harm, or even left me feeling physically different at all. I don't think they've altered anything. It's possible they've predicted something that will come to pass. I think they're symbolic."
"You think that I can deduce their meaning? That's misplaced trust, priestess."
"It's not that," she said. She held her firetree tight, her fingers curled almost painfully around the length of the stave. "I had a vision that may have been shared."
"Shared? By whom?"
"The pilgrims."
"You mean the skunks--the ones who arrived last week. I didn't think skunks could be priests."
"Shaid," she agreed. "They are followers, but they are not of the fold."
"If they're so different, what does it matter? The shared vision could mean anything."
"I don't take it so lightly. Why should we share a vision, we beasts so far apart in shape and form, and in different kingdoms? There's something to this."
"And?"
"They think that...That I may be the new Aventh."
"The Aventh," Tanda mused over the word, as if he'd never heard it before. Certainly he'd not expected to be having a conversation about it, yet here he was. "That's the word for your leader, yes? The head of the Order?"
"In direct contact with the Flame, the will of all things."
"Sounds impressive," Tanda said.
"What if they're right?" Tehlina heard the tone of horror curdling her words, and she stopped. Panic was welling up inside of her again. Her words caught in her throat, her pulse rising, and she caught herself. Deep breaths. Don't do this now. Please, just not now. Tanda was still unsure about the significance of what she'd told him, and he wasn't sure what to say. But he saw the panic in her and he put a hand on her shoulder, reassuring.
"You'll follow your destiny to the end. Wouldn't you? Is it so bad, what you speak of?"
"It could create discord in the Order. There's no telling whether I'd be accepted. Who would trust my word? Or the word of the Shaid? I'm a high priestess, yes, but they've already selected an interim Aventh. And the other beasts like him already. They want this problem to go away, to accept him as their permanent head. If I come along and challenge it, it could create a rift between Himmel and Gryning."
"Truly, I cannot help," Tanda made an apologetic sweep of his arms outward. "The workings of the Order are still beyond my grasp. But if life is presenting you with a clear choice, would it not behoove you to accept, and see what happens?"
"You speak of the al-Valar," she spoke low, not looking at him. "Following the path of the Flame. You're wise beyond your looks."
"I offer only the advice that makes sense to myself."
"Perhaps you will be a help in these dark days."
"You haven't faith in the king?" Tanda asked sincerely, his head cocked sideways.
"Have you? I trust that he's doing what he hopes is best. I can put my faith in that--for a little while. For now it will have to do. But keep your ears open when next you walk these halls. Morale is not in the king's favor."
She bowed.
"Forgive me if I've misspoken. It's not my place to question the king, nor do I feel that he is deserving of questioning. I'll leave you now; get back to the feasts. Thank you for listening."
"Thank you for translating," Tanda said.
The high priestess departed, leaving Tanda feeling very much alone in the hall. A group of young pups ran roaring past him, chasing a ball of tied up reeds, kicking it between each other. Drunkards staggered out of the banquets halls, clutching each other, pawing at each other's chests and groins, some heading to the warm dark depths of their rooms, others making their way outside to the clear and invigorating winter air. Tanda sighed and pushed his way past the feasting masses, resuming his seat by the side of the king.
"Where were you?" Besegrare said, his face full of cheer, his eyes sparkling. He was not drunk, but his senses had been dulled. Or was it a facade, meant to divert attention?
"Speaking with the high priestess."
"Her visions still trouble her," Besegrare said.
Tanda tried not to look surprised.
"You knew?"
"Oh yes. Has she come to a decision?"
"Not yet, I don't think. I'm not sure I understand the implications of it, either."
"She spoke of the rift, yes? She fears creating a divide in the Order."
"And thus a divide in all the wolves. I don't think it would be as bad as she makes it out to be. Or do the wolves of the Order have that little faith in their own ways, that they can't put their trust in her?"
"Wolves can be tricky beasts," Besegrare said, cutting short the conversation, then pushed back from his chair. He looked over to Nashil, who was sitting quietly. Her eyes were cast downward, as though lost in thought, but every now and again she'd look up and offer a smile and a little laugh. She gave him one of her most winning smiles now.
"Feeling all right?" he asked her.
"Yes," she said. "Just a little overwhelmed."
"It's been a big day for us all," Besegrare said, rapping the tabletop with his knuckles. "Forgive me, but I need to step outside."
Thybion's mind raced. So much had happened in such a short span of hours, and what had she been left with? A pile of thwarted plans, and a husband burned to ash. If nothing else, she had seized control of the People's Keep. No longer would she have to feed her plans through Khiifa; nor did she have any intention of remarrying, bringing another beast into the bedroom and trying to rule with her. The biggest problem was that Besegrare suspected her. Damn her carelessness! The way he had eyed her suggested how much he knew. She felt defeated, and an emptiness sagged within her. It wasn't time for mourning--Khiifa, idiot that he was, had been something to her, and in time she would grieve. But not now.
She rose when she saw Besegrare heading for the door, following him out onto one of the banquet hall's covered balconies. He saw her approaching but said nothing, spinning a goblet of wine between his fingers.
"You cannot avoid this," she said, taking a stand beside him. He was relaxed, leaning back on the railing by his elbows. She would not lower her guard like that, but crossed her arms and glared.
"What am I trying to avoid?" he said, staring down into the swirling wine.
"Khiifa," she hissed.
"Oh, yes. My sincerest apologies. Your husband saved my life, you know. I had my doubts about him, but he proved to be one of the good ones, in the end."
"I know Khiifa. He harbored no affection for you--you think I would try to hide it? No, you know as well as I do that he wanted you gone. He was no hero."
"He did seem to be after the throne, didn't he? I was, of course, concerned. But when it came down to it, he was as loyal as the best of them. I never expected someone like him to die for me." Besegrare looked up from his goblet then, his eyes running her through. He took a long drink of the wine, and smacked his lips. "I guess you didn't know him as well as you thought you did."
"Liar," she growled.
"I never lie," Besegrare said. He drained the goblet, then turned to face the open air. He considered the weight of the cup once, then tossed it over the rail, watched its glittering turning as it sailed outwards into the waves. He shrugged. "It was a fine cup, but an empty chalice is of no use to me."
"You must think yourself very wise. Surely you know that Khiifa acted without my order."
"I think he mentioned something like that. How did he phrase it? 'Not her,' he said. Something like that. 'She didn't make me,' I think it was."
"You admit it, then! Khiifa was the assassin, wasn't he?" Thybion bit her tongue and faced away from the king. "The damned fool."
"Your mind just loves to jump to conclusions. May I suggest you practice jumping someplace else--off the balcony, perhaps?"
His voice betrayed no hint of irony, but there was a wicked glimmer in his eye. She couldn't help but chuckle.
"Very, very wise, oh king. Just know that I did not order that attack."
"Then I expect your full loyalty. Whoever comes next better have truer aim, or a sharper knife."
Thybion ground her teeth loudly.
"As ever, I am your loyal servant," she said.
"I suppose that means you're taking over for him? Leader of the People's Keep? Come now, you don't think I'm going to have you exiled? After all, you didn't order any attack, and your husband save my life. I should have you promoted even higher! Oh, don't give me that look. This was part of your plan all along, wasn't it?"
"You give me too much credit, my lord," Thybion said. She bowed dramatically, sweeping one arm up and out with the end of her robe, her tail swishing around the end of her foot. She knew she'd lost this conversation. Better to cut your losses. He's not going to budge on that story. Even if you could prove it, he wouldn't budge an inch!
"Congratulations on your marriage. Tell the queen I wish her well," Thybion said, and left to pursue her thoughts elsewhere. Besegrare remained where he was, looking out over the rail, then hung his head low and exhaled slowly. The feasting had begun hours ago, and he knew there were days yet remaining. He composed himself, put on a brave smile, and returned to his place in the banquet hall.
-
Sujji arrived on the third day of the wedding feasts. The fox was one of the Shaid pilgrims, and like Tanda he had adopted many of the ways of the wolves. He came into the fortress bowing deeply at the guards he passed.
"Good day and good fortune," he said, "Walk lightly in the Flame."
The guards returned his bows and platitudes, but were left feeling quizzical. Sujji was much more apparent in his ways than the last pilgrims had been. To the wolves, so accustomed to seeing their own kind wearing the robes, it was a strange sight. Sujji was used sticking out, though, and he acted his way right through it. The group of pilgrims that followed him deferred to his judgment, deferred to his way of speaking and his mannerisms. They would be much more comfortable standing silently behind him, and so they did. Sujji would work for them all.
"Which way to the chapel?" he asked of a local wolf, who pointed up the thoroughfare and said in reply, "Due North. Beyond the gates of the barracks, you'll see a hill. Just up around that's the chapel and all the prayer grounds."
"Many thanks," Sujji bowed to the stones of the floor, and his followers bowed a moment's breath after. The wolf gave a little half bow then spoke again:
"You need something over there?"
"Why, we're pilgrims. The chapel here will be our home for a time."
"Forgive me, I've misspoken. I don't often see pilgrims like you."
"I have it on good authority that a group of highly maimed skunks came through here just a short time ago. Came through here as pilgrims, that is. I wonder, why should such a sight not be any stranger than this?"
Sujji gestured at his followers. They were Shaid all, and they were wearing their most threadbare clothing, for they had journeyed long.
"Al-Valar has lead us this distant way. Much like the aventh, in the early reign of Besegrare, ruler of the fortress on the cliffs, was lead by Flame to your doorstep. In this grand tradition we follow, and it is the very person of our aventh we seek to find!"
The words left the wolf a little stunned, and he shook his head in a dizzy confusion.
"My apologies. I don't much understand what you mean. Not that I've ever had much of a head for the religious--my parents raised me all right, it just never took. Nothing against it. I just don't ever understand what you types mean when you speak. But the chapel's up over the hill, just at the end of the thoroughfare."
Sujji watched the wolf fall back in line with the crowds. His hand was still raised in the air from his impassioned speech about al-Valar, and he lowered it slowly.
"Not much of a wolf worth remembering," Sujji said, bristling. He felt confused by the wolf's own confusion and wrinkled his nose. "All right everyone, follow me--North, to the chapel!"