The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(92)

“Diandra, my sweet friend, I’m telling you, I don’t hold magic,” I whispered and she studied me closely.

Then she said quietly in return, “Perhaps you do and you did not know you did until last night and it flooded out from you when your emotions were careening out-of-control. But it matters not, now your people believe you do, they believe you hold great power, they believe your king cannot die, they believe you will never age and they believe, deep into the depths of their spirits, that the Golden Dynasty is upon us.”

I faced forward thinking, holy shit, now what do I do with this?

“There is more to this than last night, my dear,” she continued. “You fit the description of the Golden Goddess exactly. Golden hair, golden eyes and now, with your time in the sun, golden skin. You sing like the seraphs and your heart is as golden as your eyes. But you are the queen of the warrior nation because you are a warrior, fierce of spirit, a match to your formidable king from the very beginning, the night of your claiming. The warriors themselves respect you like no other woman, you have earned great loyalty in a short period of time as evidenced last night when so many came forward to intervene, an occurrence so extraordinary, I still have trouble believing it. The same holds true for the mighty Dax. Seerim has told me for years he has never seen a warrior like your King Lahn, even when he was younger, he had no compare. He has never been unhorsed, he has never been disarmed, he rode out for his first kill at the age of fourteen for his trainers had nothing left to teach him, he so excelled in his studies. ”

Oh man… really? Fourteen? Holy crap.

She kept talking. “I have seen him face challenges and his strength and speed is astonishing. It is superhuman and now, it would seem, this is because he is not a human but, like you, a god.”

“Diandra, I’m not –” I started but she held up a hand and I stopped.

“We will talk more later, not now, my love, for we approach the pyre.”

Considering our bizarre and scary conversation, I hadn’t noticed it but now I did. We had left the chams and climbed a small rise which we were now descending. Others on foot and on mount moved in the direction of the tall, wooden pyre on which a body wrapped in white gauze rested. There were many still approaching, like us, but it seemed there were thousands already gathered and waiting, silent and respectful.

As our procession approached, the thick crowd parted at the orders of the front of the guard and, since I was queen, we road straight to the pyre.

See? Sometimes it was not good being queen.

We stopped close to the pyre and I saw that the wood leading up to the top was mingled heavily with flowers, hundreds of them of all colors, shapes and sizes, even the body had flowers resting on it from those who had been able to toss their blooms that high.

Zahnin’s horse trotted forward and he dismounted to spot me as I swung off my horse.

Then my women and I approached the pyre, each of us lost ourselves in a moment of reflection before, in our time, we laid our flowers in the wood.

Then we stepped away and stood, waiting, as silent as the rest of the crowd as the trail of horses and people joined us and gave their blossoms in offering if they had them.

As I stood close to the pyre, I felt eyes, many of them. This was not unusual but after Diandra and my talk, my senses were heightened to the point these eyes felt physical.

I shook this off and noted our numbers were no longer swelling however I didn’t look around very much. I did this not because I didn’t want to encounter people who thought I was a goddess (crazy!) but because I didn’t want to see Dortak amongst them. I made a promise to Lahn and I needed to keep it. And to do that, I needed to adopt the ignorance is bliss strategy.

I also noted that no time was wasted for the gray-haired, female healer who had attended me when I had sunstroke was standing to the side bearing an unlit torch which another woman was lighting.

Interesting, women lit the pyre.

Then I sucked in breath when her torch was lit and her eyes came to me before her body started my way.

Oh shit. No. Was this a queenly duty?

She kept coming.

Oh God, it looked like this was a queenly duty.

Great, f**king great.

She stopped in front of me and spoke. “My golden queen, I watched as you held her gaze when her spirit moved to the next realm. It is my honor to offer you the torch which will send her ashes to the heavens so her body can join her spirit.”

Then she offered me the torch.

Crap.

Well, there was nothing for it so I took the torch and looked at the pyre. Then I looked at the healer and asked, “Do you know her name?”

She examined my face a second before her eyes warmed and her lips tipped up in a small smile.

“Her name was Mahyah, my true, golden queen.”

I nodded. Then I took in a deep breath and walked to the pyre.

Then I looked up at the body so high up I couldn’t see much except they’d changed the gauze, there was no blood to be seen and her face had also been shrouded.

Then I thought about a young Korwahk woman who possibly walked through the parade and looked over the warriors in their avenue while wondering which one would be hers, maybe excited about her life as a warrior’s wife and in three short weeks she’d been debased, defiled, beaten and abused.

Then I turned around and called to Diandra.

Quickly, she moved to me.

When she arrived, I whispered, “Can you translate?”