ZIHAEN, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 2

CHAPTER 12 - DAMION AND ASHARTE (Part 1)

After a late evening and a sleepless night, the morning came as a shock to Ghyll. The royal bedroom bathed in the light of the early sun, a sign that his Gentleman had already opened the curtains and readied his clothes. Ghyll's brain seemed wrapped in wool, so groggy he was this morning. Mechanically he limped to his wardrobe and pushed his head into the bucket of cold water servants placed there for him every morning. He straightened, shuddering, and brushed the strands of wet hair from his face. Without thought, he began to dress and... Damn, he'd ended up with a button too many. With a sigh, he began to undo the twenty-eight buttons of his regal tunic.

The whole process took almost twice as long as usual, but finally he was ready. Still in a fog, he left his apartment, going past the rooms of his friends in the direction of the nursery, the shortest route to the garden. This way he didn't have to brave the throne room, where people would be waiting for him. He didn't want to see anyone; he needed fresh air. The empty rooms where his brothers had lived and played brought no memories. Quickly he ran down the outside stairs.

He wasn't the only one in the garden. Absently, he answered bows left and right, without stopping. As in a dream, he climbed the Avin Rath, the slender tower next to the main entrance of the palace. He nodded to the guards in their blue uniforms but promptly forgot them again. With a sigh, he rested his elbows on the parapet and stared through the embrasure at the houses in the distance. Rhidaun-Lorn, he thought, City of Towers. The capital of the kingdom was also the seat of the Council of Temples. According to the regent, the city boasted a hundred temples, chapels and towers, each with its own divine light in the color of its Order. In recent years, the lights had grown dimmer and dimmer, but now that the King had returned, they shone as bright and beneficent as ever. Kyssander said there was a renewed vibrancy in the people, and that was good.

They're my people, Ghyll thought with a shock of realization and his hands began to shake. Holy Gods, what should I do? What do I know of ruling? Uncle Jadron... He thought of the old man who had trained him, the calm way he had used to meet problems. He felt the tension lessen. This was what his uncle, unbeknownst to him, had raised him for: the kingship of Rhidauna. Uncle Jadron's face faded and another appeared. The glimpse he'd seen of Kerianna! Again, his heartbeat speeded up, but not from fear now. He wanted to crow wildly, but he thought of the guards, a few feet away. He shuddered, torn between euphoria and panic, two feelings that were completely new to him. Down on the ground, hundreds of servants and courtiers worked, in ignorance of their new king's emotional storms. They were busy with the final preparations for tomorrow and then... then... His brain stopped working. Tomorrow his life would be overturned again; he would be married twice then, to Kerianna, and to the kingdom. With neither did he have any experience. His new life would be filled with it, he thought. He sighed.

Along the driveway, he saw a cavalcade approaching. Yet more guests? Peering in the distance, he tried to identify the banners, but he couldn't see who they were.

'Whose banners are those?' he said aloud.

One of the tower guards pulled a folded paper with the blazons of the invitees from his tunic and ran his finger along the images.

'Black banner with silver wolf, that's Vavaun, Highness. That green one with the bear is not on the list, I'm afraid.'

Ghyll thanked the man. Vavaun! That should be Uwella's father.

He didn't envy Baron DeGrathain's job; it wouldn't be easy to find suitable accommodations for everyone. With Opit's royal family and a delegation from the Princes of Terekander already inside, Vavaun at the gate and the rulers of the three Ordelanden still underway, the palace would be busy. Still, the Lord Steward didn't seem easily fazed.