Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(121)
“We will begin with the binding ritual, a ceremony that is at least a thousand years old. It has occurred on a battlefield, at a roadside inn, inside a prison, and aboard ship. Believe it or not, this is the largest group ever assembled for the purpose. The essentials are a willing soldier, the blood of the line, soil from the mountain home, and a speaker of the Old Church. Up to now, the ceremony has been held in secret—even from the royal family—and the willing soldier has always been a Byrne.”
Talbot licked her lips, as if worried that she might be declared unworthy at the last minute.
Jemson smiled at her. “But times change, secrets are revealed, and traditions deserve examination. Perilous times require a certain . . . flexibility of practice and an agility of mind and spirit. We began descending this slippery slope, as some would say, with Captain Amon Byrne, who was bound to the princess heir Raisa ana’Marianna before she was crowned queen, and before his father, Edon Byrne, had passed away. This was done because then-princess Raisa was in danger. We continued this practice with Princess Hanalea, when Simon Byrne was bound to her.”
Jemson looked to Captain Byrne, who said, “Now Hana is dead, and Simon is dead, the Line is in grave danger, and there is a need for a new guardian. This time, it seems that the best candidate to perform this service to the line is not a Byrne, but Corporal Sasha Talbot.”
Talbot’s cheeks pinked up, but she kept her eyes on the floor.
“We have brought you all together to serve as witnesses. Going forward, you will hold the memory of what we do here, and be ready to testify to it if need be.” He looked around the circle. “Are you willing to be the memory of the realm?”
“We are,” the chorus came back.
“Corporal Talbot,” Jemson said, “are you willing to be bound forever to the line of Gray Wolf queens that began with Hanalea?”
“Yes, sir,” Talbot said, bringing her fist to her heart.
“Bare your arm, Corporal,” Jemson said, picking up the knife.
Talbot did, scraping back her sleeve. Jemson ran the tip of the blade down her forearm so that the blood welled up and dripped into the stone basin.
Now the speaker held up the stoppered bottle. “Behold the blood of the line,” he said. He didn’t specify whose.
Do they keep Lyss’s blood on hand, just in case? Ash thought. Is it our mother’s blood? Or does it go all the way back to Hanalea? He couldn’t seem to shut down his scientist mind.
Jemson spoke more words over the bottle, pulled the stopper, and tipped a small amount into the bowl. Lifting it, he swirled the contents together.
As the ceremony continued, Ash thought of all the bound captains since Hanalea, all the secret ceremonies held with one purpose—to protect the Line and assure that it continued into the future.
I’m bound to the Line by blood, too, he thought. I will not see it end while I live and breathe.
Ash’s amulet warmed against his skin. More and more, he was hearing his father’s voice again, though he’d not yet achieved the kind of meeting his father’d had with Alger Waterlow, their ancestor. He hoped, with practice, he would be able to see his father again in Aediion—that meeting place between worlds. Again, he heard his father’s voice.
You don’t get what you don’t go after.
Jemson poured the contents of the bowl into the silver cup, then held the cup out to Talbot. Talbot wrapped both hands around it, knuckles white, as if afraid she might spill it on the way to her mouth.
“Sasha Talbot, we ask of you this thing, that you be bound to the Gray Wolf line of queens, and, specifically, to the blood and issue of Alyssa ana’Raisa, Princess Heir of the Fells. You will swear that her blood is your blood, that you will protect her and her line until death takes you. Will you?”
“I will,” Talbot said, her voice strong and forceful, despite her jitters.
“Then drink to signify.”
Tilting her head back, Talbot drained the cup, then staggered backward, all but toppling over. Captain Byrne seemed ready for that. He grabbed her arm to steady her, deftly plucking the cup from her grip before it fell. She put her hands over her ears, her eyes wide and panicked, an array of emotions tracking across her face.
“You’ll learn to shut it out,” Byrne said, “and filter it, so you only take in what’s useful.” He glanced around, as if self-conscious at having these long-held secrets exposed in front of an audience.
Gradually, Talbot seemed to find her footing, resuming her ready stance.
The ceremony continued, as more blood was mingled with the earth in the garden to signify the connection between the queen, the bound captain, and the mountain home.
“Now,” Jemson said, “we have one more milestone to celebrate. Most of you know that today is the princess Alyssa’s sixteenth birthday. It is our tradition here in the north that the sixteenth birthday is the day of Naeming, when young people choose their vocation, and when the heir to the Gray Wolf throne is named the Princess Heir. We had hoped to celebrate this day along with her, and with the queendom at large. At present, Princess Alyssa is too far away to celebrate with us, and so we have chosen a proxy, who will bring the good news to her.” He turned to Hadley. “Captain DeVilliers, are you willing to serve as proxy for the princess heir in this celebration?”
“I am,” Hadley said.
Jemson went on to describe Lyss’s accomplishments, mostly on the field of battle, and the virtues and talents she would bring to the throne. This ceremony, at least, was familiar, since Ash had been present at his sister Hana’s name day ceremony. His mother participated in this one, her voice ringing out strongly as she asked Hadley the Three Questions. Clearly Hadley had been studying, because she delivered the Three Answers flawlessly.