The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [32]
Moving in a daze, Keturah went out into the courtyard. Dhamari Exchelsor entered the garden, his expression strangely shy. Keturah took a small amount of comfort from this. If she was to be overwhelmed by events far above her control, at least she was not alone.
Dhamari was closely followed by his family and their retinue. They had a priest of Mystra in tow and servants bearing trays upon which were arranged the traditional marriage items: a silver chalice, a scroll, a small, jeweled knife. One of the servants held a robe of crimson silk that was richly embroidered and encrusted with gems. This she held out to Keturah, clucking indignantly over the woman's simple tunic and bare legs.
"Now?" Keturah murmured, sending a look of appeal toward the queen's counselor.
Zephyr shrugged. "Why wait? The matter is settled."
Moving like one in a dream, Keturah allowed the servant to help her into the robe, to tie the marriage cord around her waist.
She echoed the spells of binding and drank from the chalice when it was given her. When they handed her the ceremonial knife and pushed back the sleeve of her robe to bare her wrist, she stood for a moment studying the pulsing life beneath her skin.
As if he feared what she might do, the priest quickly took back the knife and handed it to Dhamari. He nicked Keturah's wrist, then his own. They pressed them together, a symbol of bloodlines mixed.
When at last the ceremony was over, the Exchelsor clan erupted into loud celebration. Dhamari winced and sent Keturah a shy, rueful smile.
"You look as overwhelmed as I feel, my lady. If you desire a few moments' privacy to catch your breath, I will try to keep the revelers away."
She nodded, grateful for his understanding, and slipped off in search of a quiet corner of the garden.
Dhamari watched her go, then sought out the queen's jordain. He found the elf lingering by the front gate, watching the celebration with narrowed eyes.
"The thing is done and well done," he said.
"Is it?" Zephyr countered. "You came here well before the appointed hour, before Keturah learned the reason for this match. By law, she must be told."
"She will be, when the time is right. Leave it in my hands."
When the jordain hesitated, Dhamari pressed a small, coin-filled bag into his hand. "Our lady has no need of wealth. She is enriched by your faithful service," he said meaningfully.
"And the potions?"
"I am qualified to administer them." He paused for a wistful smile. "You have not seen the wizard Keturah in a temper. It would be best if she hears the full story from my lips and in private."
"As you say." Zephyr handed Dhamari a wooden box.
Dhamari opened the box and took from it one of many tiny vials. He emptied the potion into the contents of a gem-encrusted wine cup. "We will begin this very night," he assured the jordain. "You may tell your lady that all will go as planned."
An odd little smile touched the elf's face. "She will be gratified to hear this, I'm sure."
"And please, convey my regards and thanks to the queen."
That strange, secretive smile flickered again. "I will do that, as well,"
Zephyr agreed, "although at a somewhat later time."
He punctuated this cryptic remark with a proper jordaini bow, then he turned and disappeared into the night with disconcerting elven grace. Dhamari shrugged and took a small packet from a hidden pocket of his tunic. He ripped off a corner and spilled the powder into the wine. For a moment the liquid fizzled and bubbled, seething as it turned a hundred shades of crimson and purple and green. Then, suddenly, it settled back into the sedate, aged gold of fine haerlu wine. Dhamari smiled with satisfaction and went in search of his bride…
*****
Fury, pure and searing, tore Tzigone from the past and jolted her back to herself. Around her lingered the faint shadows of the green tower, and