Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [107]
Due to the haste of the wedding, Skylan had not had time to commission the wedding ring. Norgaard, with considerable effort, removed his own ring from his gnarled finger and gave it to his son. Father and son embraced. Norgaard spoke a few words of love and pride that brought tears to Skylan’s eyes.
Skylan clasped Garn in a bear hug.
“Did you talk to Aylaen?” he asked in a low tone.
Garn returned the hug. “Aylaen wishes you joy, Skylan. As do I, my brother. With all my heart.”
Skylan was impatient. “I know that. But Garn, did you talk to her about coming to Vindraholm—?”
Garn pretended not to hear. “It is time for the ceremony. Look outside. Everyone is waiting to honor you.”
Skylan could see that. The road in front of the dwelling was filled with friends, relations, comrades. Garn clapped Skylan on the shoulder and then led his friend forth. Skylan walked out of the shadowy dwelling, emerging, blinking, into the bright sunlight, to be greeted with rousing cheers. Skylan forgot about Aylaen, forgot everything except what he owed to the god.
He placed his hand on the silver amulet and whispered, “Thank you, Torval! I will try to be worthy of your faith in me. I swear on my life!”
The warriors would not permit Skylan to walk to the sacred grove. They hoisted him up on their shoulders and carried him through the streets. Women flung blossoms at him. Men sang the old songs that always accompanied the bridegroom to his wedding.
The grove was a sacred place of ancient lineage. Located well inland from the sea, the grove stood in a small valley surrounded by forests and grassy hills. Twelve enormous oaks formed an irregular circle at the bottom of the valley. Although these oaks were tall and straight and would have made excellent timber for the dragonships, no one even thought of cutting them. Every clan had its own sacred grove, but none were as old or honored as this one. Gogroth, God of the World Tree, was said to have planted the oaks in honor of the gods.
Early that morning, Bone Priestesses carried the statue of Vindrash to the grove and placed the statue in the center of a large sward of cut green grass. Acolytes decorated the statue with flowers, and the Bone Priestesses blessed the grove and invited the gods and goddesses to attend the wedding.
After the grove had been consecrated, the Heudjun and their guests from other clans crowded into the shadows beneath the enormous arms of the spreading oaks. Weddings were joyous affairs, this one especially, for it was the wedding of the two most important people in the lives of the Vindrasi.
Everyone was in a festive mood, able for a short time at least to put aside worries and problems. Those who had doubts about Skylan’s youth and inexperience kept silent. Skylan was Torval’s choice, and no one wanted to bring down the god’s wrath by daring to question his judgment. The people clapped and cheered when Skylan arrived.
He took his place in front of the statue of Vindrash, together with his father, Garn, Bjorn, and Erdmun. Skylan scanned the crowd quickly, hoping to see Aylaen, but such was the press of people that he could not find her.
Strains of music came from the grove, the sound of a harp played by Balin, Togogroth and bard. The crowd hushed, for the music heralded the coming of the bride. Skylan toyed restlessly with the hilt of the sword. He hoped the ceremony would be soon over and he could move on to the feasting and merriment. In the Chief’s Hall, he might have a chance to speak to Aylaen. Garn jabbed him with an elbow in the ribs, and Skylan ceased fidgeting.
The bard appeared from among the trees, and behind him came two lines of Bone Priestesses, singing a song of praise to Vindrash. They took their places around the statue.