Kinghood: Book One of The Fourpointe Chronicles

Chapter 20

"Are you ready, Prince Jameson?"

No, Dawkin thought. "Yes," he answered.

The coachman gave the reins a quick snap, ushering the four horses forward. They clopped their way over the cobblestones of the main bailey, with the funeral carriage in tow.

The back end of his father's open casket shuddered. The body within, of a fallen king adorned with garlands and flowers, laid undisturbed. At peace.

Willelm nudged his nose into Dawkin's back. Dawkin looked over his shoulder to find his father's prized stallion outfitted with an assortment of open trappings, all in the royal Saliswater colors of gold and blue: decorative breeching, breast collar, bridles and reins. Beneath it all, through gaps in the bards, Willelm's coat shone as healthy sheen, as the attendants had washed and groomed him only hours before.

"Father would shit himself to see you decorated like a maiden's doll."

The stallion pursed his lips before shaking his head and snorting.

"Very well. Let us say our good-byes."

Dawkin took Willelm by the reins to trudge on after his father. The steady beat of four hooves was soon joined by set upon set of others, as Everitt and a parade of knights, both Marlish and Ibian, followed.

The caravan went through the castle with little more sound than those of their horses. From the windows, galleries and balconies above, members of Court watched. The soldiers and veterans clenched their right hands into fists and crossed them over their hearts, in tribute to the warrior they had known. Some bowed their heads as the funeral carriage passed. Most just looked on at the procession.

Including Taresa.

The Princess and her family were to attend the march after the military line had crossed the barbican and left the castle grounds. Dawkin had spotted their Ibian coach earlier that morning, as it was being polished and oiled for the ceremony. The same carriage had been used to ferry the Ibian royals to every service held for the late Audemar. King Felix had attended the private funeral service within the castle chapel but not the public one at Mar-by-the-Sea Cathedral. Nor had he shown at the initial church viewing nor the wake that preceded the funerals, sending instead his nephew to the former and his wife to the latter in his stead. Princess Ermesinda had attended one of the ceremonies as had Princess Nataliya, although which ones Dawkin could not say. However, he did recall seeing Princess Taresa at each and every one of the gatherings.

As Dawkin approached the gate, he glanced up to his left to spot Taresa, her face framed by lengths of gold lace that extended down to her blue dress, in memory of the loss that Saliswater had endured. Others in the Ibian Court displayed their own touches in honor of the Marlish tradition. Dawkin saw a gold shoulder sash here, a blue doublet there. Yet none had gone through as much care and detail as Taresa. At every service she attended, her outfit varied. At the viewing, her garb had been a light blue dress with trim of handspun gold thread. Her outfit at the wake was of gold silk while at the funeral services, both of which she visited, she wore a simple long shirt and skirt with a shawl, all dark blue.

Taresa had not spoken a word to Dawkin at any of the ceremonies. In fact, Dawkin had not seen her speak to anyone. On a few occasions, her mother offered her a word, at which point she tilted her head and listened, then nodded. Her silence persisted though, as was customary in Ibia for seven days and seven nights following the death of a dear relative or close friend.