Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (51 page)

‘Thank you Cielie,’ Gynevra said, hugging her fiercely. ‘I hear what you say and it's a precious gift you offer me. I've tried so hard these last few days to project the joy I truly feel and to disperse the dread that eats at my gut. But I need a sign of Their blessing.’

Cielcif only shook her head as if she would say ‘what more sign could you ask for?’ and settled patiently to meditate at her Queen's side.

Gynevra could feel the presence of the Gods but could get no sense of a blessing. This deeply troubled her for she knew in her heart, even if the Gods didn't give her a sign she could recognize as their blessing, she’d not change the course she’d chosen—for she could not. Every particle of her being yearned to be sacredly joined with Taur.

Back at the Castle, Gynevra broke fast with Cielcif and Difleer. Nudon came to help with preparing the azanon and her handmaiden for the special day. Their bodies deeply massaged with perfumed oil, hands and faces carefully painted with henna and kohl they were dressed in gowns of sheerest silk it had taken thirty seamstresses many days to create.

Cielcif's gown was deep rose heavily embroidered with gold, the rich colors a perfect foil for her dark beauty. Gynevra's was cut from a bolt of exquisite apricot silk embossed with silver the King had imported from Burmina, a land far across the sea renowned for its beautiful fabrics.

Staring at herself in the long silver mirror, Gynevra knew she'd never looked nor felt more queenly. With a tight waist, voluminous long-trained skirt and deeply plunging neckline, the bodice was laced front and back with silver and studded with emeralds. Hundreds of tiny jewels of emerald, ruby, crystal, pearl, and black obsidian had been utilized to depict on the train the Bull of Nyalda and the Dragon of Poseidonia rising together over an ankh, symbol of Life. The short sleeves were of intricate silver lace with great, stiffened apricot wing sleeves fanning up from her shoulders making her look like some sort of exotic butterfly.

Difleer fixed the beaten gold choker about her neck from which hung the carved obsidian bull Taur had given her on the occasion of their first joining and Nudon placed on her head the horned Nyaldan crown he'd had made for her. A delicate golden helmet studded around the rim with emeralds, it had delicate horns carved from clear quartz.

‘Ooh Lady,’ Diffie whispered, dropping back to stare at Gynevra with wide eyes. ‘You look—like a Queen!’

They all laughed and into their mirth Taur erupted, pure white silk kirt quite startling against the oiled mahogany glow of his skin. For a moment Gynevra saw only the magnificence of him reflected behind her in the silver mirror; the square-linked gold belt with its fist-sized cabochon of polished obsidian, gold vambraces and amulets studded with obsidians and emeralds, her teardrop emerald on a thick chain around his neck, his horned crown polished and gleaming above the rich blue-black sheen of his hair. About to comment on his effect on her, she was distracted by the almost comical expression of tragedy marring his handsome features.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘The Magus is ill. He can't perform the ceremony. We must wait until he is well!’

Chapter 29

‘We can't! Not now!’

Were the Gods going to deny her after all? Was this her sign? Her eyes met Taur's and on the instant she knew, this day was their moment, their window of time. If they missed it the opening wouldn't come again. Unbearable pain accompanied that thought, and a deep determination that having come so far, nothing should stand in their way now. There were others with equal power and status who could take Marek's place. As she began to voice the thought, Pog waddled in.

‘Excuse me, great Master Sire and great Lady Queen, the Lord Dogon is without and seeks an audience.’

Dogon! Suddenly her heart was singing.
This
was her sign.

Whirling about, she cried, ‘Dogon! Perfect!’

Turning to Taur, she snatched up his hands and said, ‘The Gods bless us! I don't like Marek. He looks at me as if I was the one who'd kidnapped you! Dogon can officiate for us. He has all the status of Marek and none of the ego. This is going to be the most perfect day in all creation! Please kiss me. Diffie will just have to paint my mouth again.’

Grinning down at her, Taur bent and kissed the tip of her nose.

‘I wouldn't dare disturb such perfection. Diffie would have my hide. But you're right. Dogon is perfect for the job.’

‘And what job is that, Sire?’ Dogon asked, entering the room carrying a ceremonial fighting stick crafted from copper and crystal. Briefly touching his chin to his chest, he waited, eyes lively with curiosity. When Taur explained their dilemma, Dogon's smile was wide.

‘Nothing would delight me more,’ he declared. ‘I came to bring you my joining gift.’

With a solemn little bow he laid the staff in Gynevra's hands. Immediately there was a rush of heat up her spine and her eyes went wide. Dogon nodded.

‘I had no doubt you'd feel its power. I bring you a ceremonial fighting stick because one
doesn't
fight with it. Being crafted from copper and crystal it symbolizes power and peace, which is what I wish for your union.’

‘Thank you,’ Gynevra breathed, handing the staff to Taur.

As his hands closed around it he stilled. Nostrils flaring, he said, ‘Power and peace is a wonderful gift. Thank you, Lord Dogon. Marek is indisposed. We’d be honored if you'd officiate in his place.’

‘The honor is mine, Sire,’ Dogon responded.

From that moment the magic of the Dawn Ritual was back to carry them through the day on wings of light. As they processed to the King’s Fane to make their private vows, Taur murmured with rough satisfaction, ‘Mine—at last.’

With joy blazing in her cheeks and eyes, Gynevra responded, ‘And you, my Lord, are mine.’

They passed through the King's Presence Chamber, which was crowded with richly dressed courtiers, avid for the first glimpse of the Queen's gown that was reported to have cost a high qim. Dogon paused to explain his presence then amid a myriad calls for the blessings of the Gods on their union he led them down the hall to the sanctuary of the King's Fane.

The only light in the circular jeweled cavern came from tiny crystal lamps in the hands of the priests at the twelve sacred stations, who chanted the paean for harmony, peace, and joy in Sacred Union. The two High Priests of the King's Fane swung censors of precious frankincense before them as they approached the golden stairs to the central altar.

The statues of Ist and Asar were as Gynevra remembered them from the time Taur had first brought her here. But resting on their joined hands where Merwin's Crystal had been, was the Violet Flame, a large ametrine sphere. The priests uncovered four small crystal lamps designating the Four Directions and the sphere took up the light, glowing deep amethyst irradiated with living gold and symbolizing the Presence of the Divine. With hands side by side on the sphere, Taur and Gynevra connected heart and mind to make their vows.

‘By the golden light of Ra as seen in the Violet Flame I vow to walk at your side in protection and by the laws of sacred partnership, for as long as I live and Ra shall rise with the dawn,’ Taur promised.

Gynevra responded, ‘By the golden light of Ra as seen in the Violet Flame I vow to walk by your side in honor and joy as your Queen according to the laws of sacred partnership.’

If any noticed the omission of the words denoting eternity from Gynevra's vow, none commented. Taur, long since reconciled to the fact she could never make that vow to him, clasped her hands on top of the stone and the violet and gold aura of the crystal enlarged to encompass them both.

We walk together always in Love.

The thought flowed between them with the clarity of gold and the mysticism of violet as they stood in sacred communion.

After a brief luncheon with the Castle courtiers and retainers it was time to lead the procession into the city. The ceremonial double reica had been re-gilded and hung with black silk curtains embroidered with gold bulls and the twelve bearers wore black, with gold bulls embroidered on the backs of their tabards. At the head of the procession walked two flag-bearers, the right flying the Nyaldan gold bull on black, the left flying the Poseidonian gold dragon on red. Behind them came a third flag-bearer flying both pennants on a single pole, a symbol of the joining of the two royal houses.

Between the forward flag-bearers and the King and Queen marched a hundred warriors in ceremonial regalia, a drummer in their midst beating a huge bull-hide drum. Another hundred warriors followed the royal reica and behind them came a plethora of colorful reicani led by Dogon, Cielcif and Archinus Varia and Lady Nudon. In the train of the courtiers and other wealthy Paggi came the Castle musicians with harp and lyre and singing the popular epics recounting the deeds of their King and his ancestors. Dancers, jugglers and tumblers followed, their antics and agility entertaining the crowds as they passed.

The first stop on this carefully orchestrated journey was the Star Path Pyramid on the narrow peninsula of land running into the harbor from the toe of Castle Crags. Complete but for the carved and gilded designation stone to be placed above the entrance arch, the pyramid stood like a gleaming black beast on a piece of land where once only rock terns roosted. A quarter of a stade high and of polished black onyx, its immense energy was further amplified by five massive quartz points. One was the capstone and the others stood at the four corners and were aligned to the magnetic grid of the Earth.

On this highly auspicious day of Summer Solstice the King was to lay the last stone and declare the building complete. Not prepared to risk her to the high energy of the pyramid, Taur had insisted Gynevra watch from within the protection of the reica. From the top of the scaffolding before the archway, with Lord Dogon and Archinus Varia by his side, he addressed his people, drawing them into his dream of being able to communicate with their star-home, Sirius, as he believed their ancient earthly ancestors had been able to do.

Having her first close experience with the energy of the pyramid, Gynevra marveled at the skill of the builder priests who, using only the power of the mind to cut, shape and polish the blocks in the quarry in the mountains, had used that same mind-power to transport and position them on the building. Many buildings were created thus in Atlantis but it was still a feat of great skill. Magus Marek had had several discussions with the King over his monopoly of every available builder priest until the project was completed.

Gynevra felt a great desire to experience the energy inside the pyramid. It was potent enough at the end of the walkway where Taur had insisted she stay. One day, she determined, she’d ask him to take her there but not today for such a request was likely to cause dissension between them.

‘T’is an awesome monument to an awesome King,’ she said, as they rode on towards the city.

‘And I intend to build many more,’ he answered solemnly, and squeezed her hand.

Citizens lined the streets in the heat of the afternoon to get a glimpse of the great ones on their special day. Many more waited at the military training field on the outskirts of the city where the Solstice Games were in progress. The Summer Solstice Games were a showcase for the best athletes in the province. By the time the King and Queen reached the city, the bearer's tabards were stained with sweat and the tide of people in their wake was many stades long. Warriors lined the way to keep the procession route clear, children rode high on men's shoulders, and youths climbed trees and even tall buildings to get a better view. Through it all Gynevra sensed the intense pride of the Nyaldans. Pride in King, city, province and all it stood for, and the pride of each individual in who he was and where he lived.

Each street in Fyr Heceuda had been decorated by its inhabitants according to their interests and status. The city had taken on the unashamed, gaudy beauty of a flamboyant philidora and Gynevra couldn't help comparing it with the rich, soul-less, brilliance of Fyr Trephyr on her Joining Day with Gotham. In Fyr Heceuda there was a reverence for life apparent in the general happiness, carefully tended plants, colorful tamed birds, and animals of all kinds roaming free.

Most of all there was no evidence of the private orgy-type parties characteristic of Trephysian society. This day belonged to the King and Queen and everyone joined in the celebration of it whether they approved the union or not.

Gynevra felt joy bubble in her heart, for in effect she was proclaiming herself more Nyaldan than Poseidonian, making herself one with Taur's people, many of whom had taken her into their hearts. Time and again as they traveled he raised her hand with his in response to cheers and acclamation.

The day had started, as for many tonni now, with a bright fine morning which quickly warmed to a humid, close heat unusual in this northern region. By the time they arrived at the Halls of Justice heavy banks of black cloud were gathering over the mountains to the south, which often presaged a short sharp thunderstorm before nightfall. The violent rainstorm would bring little relief from the intense heat but it was the general hope that solstice would herald a change.

‘The banquet could get rained off,’ Taur worried.

‘No,’ Gynevra responded instantly. ‘The rain will come later. I feel the Sky Father will truly rain upon the Goddess on the altar tonight.’

‘Another beautiful omen for our day.’

‘Yes,’ Gynevra said simply, and they smiled at one another, forgetting for a moment the crowds around them.

The public joining ceremony in the Halls of Justice before Judge Albyon and Lord Dogon was brief but the King's speech, broadcast to the entire city through the crystal echo chamber, would go down in the annals of history. Standing beside him with tears pouring down her face, Gynevra thanked the Gods for a happiness almost too great to sustain.

‘Citizens of Nyalda, there are many among you who fear your King has become a clod because he feels and expresses the sentiment of love. People of Nyalda, it is the lack of
love,
which is the root of all the ills besetting Atlantis today. Through my love for Gynevra I have learned what joy we Paggi have denied ourselves for generations through our upholding of the Doaara and by belittling this emotion, which is the basis of our being. Be that as it may, I intend to build Nyalda to the level of greatness Atlantis enjoyed during the reign of the legendary Evander when women were ladies, men were men and not ashamed to honor their women or to offer them love.

‘Beginning on this auspicious day of my joining with the golden Princess who is now my Queen, I declare a return to the old belief in
love
—man for woman, mankind for mankind, mankind for the Gods and the Universe. I know I can't change your thinking just by making a royal decree but I hope on this day to plant the seed of new thought, new understanding, new beginnings.

‘To this end I abolish the breeding flabria and declare that henceforth every man shall sire his own heirs.’

An instant outcry shattered the listening silence. There were boos and shouts of rage and shock. There were cheers and loud yells of delight. There were wide smiles on many faces, and many more were angry and dismayed.

Waiting for the first wave of shock to pass, the King raised his voice to be heard above the continuing rumble of reaction.

‘I intend to raise my children in my home, as was done in ancient times. I urge you to think of the advantages in doing the same. I don't believe it's too late to bring the old values back into our society. People, I ask you to listen and to think about what I say. There can be no sin or stigma attached to caring more for one another.’

Turning away from the echo chamber he took Gynevra into his arms, and for many moments they stood thus, before a stunned Hall full of the Paggi elite of Fyr Heceuda. Then all about them people began talking, commenting, applauding, decrying, complimenting, scoffing. There was no more controversial topic the King could have chosen to address than this one. That he chose to do it on such a day showed the people the height of his esteem for his Queen, and showed her the extent of the trust he had in the temperament of his people. As he had known they would, they muttered and mumbled and argued among themselves, but they continued to celebrate with every appearance of enjoyment.

When Gynevra commented, Taur grinned.

‘It's the basis of Nyaldan temperament. When we celebrate we do it with all our heart, putting all ill-feelings aside. In the same way, when it's time to debate and legislate, we'll do that with all our heart. The people won't allow me to make a change in the law of that magnitude without a struggle—but not today. Today is for celebration and before it's finished I aim to show them just how much of an oaf their King is even though he's fallen in love and isn't afraid to say so.’