Chapter Twelve (Pt.2)
Walking in front of the open carriage, pulled by two sturdy black horses, the king and queen led the grave procession from the courtyard, past the councillors who stood on the palace steps with heads bowed as the warriors filed past. Behind the carriage were the commanders, split by rank.
Harlan’s body lay in the carriage, decked in a pristine white tabard, his hands covering the hilt of his sword, resting on his chest, his helmet by his feet. Unable to face the finality of laying her beloved to rest, his widow was not present; neither were his young children.
The procession filed past the warriors’ barracks, along the broad walkway, heading towards the funeral mound, at the juncture where the northern wall met the western wall. From that mound, only royalty and warriors were allowed to embark on their final journey. At the end of the walkway, the chosen warriors lifted Harlan’s body onto their shoulders and proceeded up to the pyre.
Cropped grass carpeted the ground on either side of the wide, well-maintained path, which lay smooth and free of obstacles that might trip the bearers. It had been cut into the small hill so as to afford a gradual climb to the wide, flat top.
Once there, Edmon and Maeve stepped aside, followed by the commanders. The bearers approached the pyre and carefully laid Harlan’s body on it. The warriors arranged themselves in an outward rippling ring around the pyre and bowed their heads. Each silently paid their respects in their own way. No long, drawn out ceremonies for warriors who never tarried in their duties.
Berkhos stepped forward and drew his sword, pointing it skyward. “Harlan!” His voice rang out, clear and strong.
As one, every warrior mirrored his actions and the sun sparkled off countless upraised blades of steel. Their deafening shout of “Harlan!” echoed down into the city.
At Berkhos’ signal, the one with the flaming brand stepped forward to thrust it deep into the pyre. The dry wood caught almost immediately. Small tongues of flame darted out curiously before joining together to seek out Harlan and gradually turn him to ash. No one moved, except for the delicately built attendant, who ensured the fire was fed and hot enough to consume the body. He would then wait for all present to leave before gathering the ashes for the king to hand over to Harlan’s family.
* * * *
Unable to bear the mood at the barracks after the funeral, Leah decided to seek refuge at Jess’ home. No longer a warrior, she now lived with her husband in a modest, one-level abode past the bazar. Faro, still a warrior, was away on patrol, and already two neighbours had stopped by to make sure the young woman was alright.
No longer the slender warrior, Jess had filled out in her new role. She wore her fair hair long, which was fashioned in a slightly untidy bun atop her head. Pushing errant strands off her face, she picked another apple from the bowl.
Leah cuddled Jess’ six-month-old son, Farel, close as if he had the power to put everything right. He had a special place in her heart for his birth had coincided with her promotion.
“Poor Nadeen,” said Jess. “I can’t believe what’s happened with her. And Conor...” Sighing heavily, she shook her head.
Leah remained silent.
“I know you’re upset, Leah, but apart from that, is anything else bothering you?” Jess paused, knife resting on the partly sliced fruit.
“No...”
“Are you sure?”
“All that’s happened... it’s a lot to deal with.” And so much more besides. “I know you want to talk about Nadeen, but now it all seems no more than a distant memory, overshadowed by almost losing Evalan, Harlan...” Meraud, whispered her mind before she could stop it.
“I still cannot believe that foolish plan is abroad.”
“The council will be meeting later today. Though I think Father has already decided; the meeting seems to be nothing more than a formality.”
“The warriors will be briefed today?”
Leah nodded. “I’ll have to get back soon as I don’t know how long the council meeting will last.”
Jess glanced at her before quickly looking away.
“What?”
“Umm... how’s Conor?”
She snorted. “Don’t talk to me about him. Harlan’s dead because of him.”
Jess jerked her head back. “Leah–”
“You weren’t there. His behaviour during the whole trip was... atrocious. He was supposed to be under guard but no, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. He had to–” She shook her head, the words catching in her throat.
Only the baby’s gurgling and the sound of fruit being hastily cut broke the uncomfortable silence. Jess placed a bowl in front of Leah and sat by her at the table. “But he’s a warrior. He only did what he’s been trained to do. It was an unfortunate accident–”
“Not doing anything would have worked better.”
“But blaming him for Harlan’s death?”
“He didn’t deny it.”
“You accused him to his face?”
Her cheeks reddened; she froze... but only momentarily. “I was angry.”
“Oh, Leah.”
“Alright, I admit I reacted without thinking. It’s because of–” She caught herself, openly startled, unable to believe she’d been about to confess her magic to Jess.
“What?”
Her widened eyes flicked guardedly to Jess.
“Because of what?”
“Nothing. I mean, the shock of Harlan’s death... Evalan...” She groped for a suitable response, almost crying out when a knock sounded at the door.
“Not again,” muttered Jess as she rose to answer it.
“I’d better go.”
“Oh, Leah, don’t. Not because of what I said.”
“No, no. It’s not that.” She gave Farel a final cuddle and kissed him, relishing his baby scent, before handing him to Jess.
The knocking sounded again, more persistent this time; Jess glared at the door.
“I’m not very good company at the moment. I’ll come see you again soon.”
“Don’t wait too long?”
She gave Jess a quick embrace. “Promise. You’d better answer that before they break the door down.”
A small, anxious woman almost fell in when Jess pulled the door open.
“There you are! Thank the goddess.” Her hand fluttered over her chest. “For a moment, I thought–”
“Ah, Madam Kell. Sorry for the delay but–”
“You have company. How rude of me. Hello, my– Oh!”
“I was just leaving. I will come again soon, Jess, I promise.”
The newcomer was grinning widely. “That explains the presence of the guard.”
Leah glanced at Eurik who remained as stoic as ever. “Goodbye, Jess. Madam.”
“Take care,” said Jess as they walked away.
Barely noticing the greetings that came her way, Leah mentally rebuked herself. You were about to tell her. I can’t believe you were about to condemn yourself so easily. Her frown deepened; she hugged herself as if suddenly cold. Last night... I wanted to talk about last night. I need someone to tell me that it’s alright to... to surrender yourself to... to a– “But I haven’t surrendered,” she muttered.
“Highness?”
She glared at Eurik then swiftly replied, “Thinking aloud, nothing more.” She quickened her pace. He may have had my body but he’ll never have me. She marched to the barracks and, without another word to her guard, raced up the stairs to her room.
* * * *
The great, rectangular shaped Council room was plainly decorated. Portraits of Edmon’s ancestors looked down from the panelled walls onto those who sat at the sizeable, oval table. The monarch’s chair swathed in red fabric, stood empty at the head of the table. Ringing the table were another twenty-four chairs to sit equally twelve councillors and twelve commanders.
Leah took her place among the commanders in the room, where only a while ago Edmon had worked out his plan with his councillors and senior commanders. They sat quietly, waiting for Berkhos to speak, all very aware of Harlan’s conspicuously empty seat.
The second commander stood at the head of the table, by Edmon’s chair and, without waiting on ceremony, began. “The king’s proposals... There will be more permanent patrols out in the countryside with encampments set up between the settlements and the Grimwood. Each settlement, depending on its size, is to have six to eight warriors assigned to it for better protection…” He paused as murmurs rippled around him.
“But, sir, will that not leave Orenheart with too few?” asked Baily.
“As his majesty said, it’s unnecessary to have so many warriors within these walls, and the city guards can cope.”
Leah could feel the uncertainty amongst her fellows, and wondered how much Edmon had had to argue in favour of his plan. She got to her feet. “Sir, may I?”
Raising his brow, Berkhos nodded.
“I understand how drastic these measures must seem, but you weren’t at Holl. It was... frightening, the ease with which the brigands came so close to getting what they wanted. No one knew Evalan would be spending the night out in the open with us, yet they managed to get to him without any trouble. If it hadn’t been for some of the settlement folk coming to our aid...” She shook her head.
“Leah is right,” said Daven, standing to add his words to hers. “And as his majesty so eloquently put it, his people who have made a life outside the city walls are entitled to the same level of protection as those who live in the city. We’ve failed them already. That poor girl...” Closing his eyes as if in pain, he resumed his seat.
Seemingly deep in thought, Berkhos remained silent a moment longer before leaning forward and fixing them with his unblinking stare. “Our king has made a promise that this will not happen again; the brigands have had it easy for too long. They may think that without his right arm, the king can no longer defend his people. But he has us. He has his warriors. We will be our leader’s sword arm. And with us, he will deliver such a blow as to make them regret their actions.”