Robert Hughes - The Power and the Prophet

Crowns

Spring had come by the time the crowning of the new king and queen of the One Land could be arranged. But the months before had been busy ones.

The wreckage of the brief war had to be repaired, wounded required healing, and the tugoliths had to be returned to Dolna. Above all, a search for the bodies of Pelmen and Serphimera had to be undertaken.

They were never discovered. The searchers found that the

top of the mountain had been blown off, and the bodies must have been blown to bits or buried under the wreckage. But the remains of Flayh had been tossed to the bottom of the mountain, entangled with the bodies of an immense pack of midnight black dogs. They left it where they’d found it.

Pahd’s body was accorded full honors. Along with two empty coffins for Pelmen and Serphimera, his casket was dropped from the top of the Rock of Tombs. Pahd slept at .last where he could never be disturbed.

It was left to Kherda to plan the coronation, and the Prime Minister gloried in the task. He was disappointed when Bronwynn vetoed his elaborate plans for a great scaffolding and platform, telling him that the ledge of the dragon’s cave was the right place. Hope revived briefly when he visited the place and discovered its condition and the nauseating odor. But Bronwynn was adamant.

“It can be cleaned,” she told him. “See to it.”

Hordes of workmen were organized and induced to work at immense task. Kherda watched from a safe distance. He soon discovered that, even allowing for some theft by the workers, the jewels mixed among the muck would pay for the labor many times over. And he consoled himself with thoughts of the grand palace he would design for the royal couple.

Even that plan collapsed when the great throne room inside the cave was discovered. In the end, Kherda had to content himself with the building of an impressive stairway up to the cave.

But at last the day arrived.

The parades began, streaming into the Central Gate from each of the three mouths, with musicians from each of the three lands struggling to outdo one another.

Lord Joss led the Golden Throng from Chaomonous. Kherda watched as the general climbed the stairway to the entrance. His face registered only a slight shock as the remaining odor struck his nose, but he took his place stoically.

Dorlyth, mounted on a strangely agitated Minaliss and accompanied by Ferlyth and Bainer, led the Mari lords. Syth was recovering, but still not strong enough for the journey. And Mar-Yilot, slowly learning to cope with her loss of power, elected to remain with him. Even Janos put in an appearance. Maris and Chaons regarded each other cautiously, but both were glad hostilities were ended. New markets and trade were in all minds, now that the old merchant monopolies had collapsed.

The arrival of the Lamathians caused barely a ripple of excitement. The ubiquitous pale blue robes were a common sight now. But when the tugoliths advanced into the pass, Chaon and Mari alike took notice.

These were the newest wonders of the world. The huge beasts wore enormous smiles; with Thuganlitha gone, there was much less quarreling.

Last of all, Rosha, Bronwynn, and Erri entered the pass at the same moment, each through a separate mouth. They rode to the center of Dragonsgate, where they dismounted and embraced. Then Erri led the two young sovereigns up the stairway. Loud fanfares greeted their ascent.

“What is that? Erri muttered as he turned to smile and wave at the wildly cheering throng.

“That is dragon,” Bronwynn said cheerfully. “Just a ghost of what it smelled like when I was here before.

Kherda promises it will all be gone after the final washing.”

There were solemn vows to be made and oaths to be sworn. Then Erri took up one of the two identical crowns and raised it above his head. Bronwynn knelt.

“I wonder what they think we’re saying down there?” Rosha muttered.

Bronwynn chuckled. “The wisest words ever uttered, probably.”

“Very well then, let’s say them. Remember the Power. All wisdom proceeds from that.” Erri smiled and placed the crown on her head.

Bronwynn got to her feet and waved, while the assembled nations cheered loudly. Then Erri picked up the other crown and turned to Rosha. “Do you still feel pain from the memories of the dread?” he asked.

“Some,” Rosha murmured as he knelt.

Erri nodded and pressed the crown down on Rosha’s thick curls. “That may be good. Some dread may be desirable in a leader. A long memory certainly must be.”

Rosha stood to receive the adulation of the crowd. As he gazed down at the sea of faces, he murmured,

“Now can we go?”

“Not without saying good-bye,” an unexpected voice said from behind them.

The three figures high above the crowd turned their backs on the throng in such precise unison that everyone assumed it had been planned. Suddenly they disappeared into the cave. A moment later, Erri emerged to step quickly down the stairs to the Prime Minister. “Kherda, what’s next on the program?”

Kherda was flabbergasted. “Why, the recessional, of course—”

“Not yet. Do something else.”

“But—what?”

“Just stall. You know how, I’m sure.” Erri started back up the stairs.

“Wait!” Kherda cried. “What are you discussing?”

Erri smiled mysteriously. “Secrets. Matters of faith,” he said. Then he popped back inside the cave.

Kherda sighed, wishing they’d let him know before they changed the ritual. But he had the coronation to control and little time for resentment. He called upon years of experience as a professional courtling and stalled.

Erri found Pelmen embracing Bronwynn and Serphimera in a crushing hug from Rosha. “Where have you been?” the new king of the One Land was demanding.

“On our way here,” Serphimera answered. “At least, we’ve been for the last two weeks. Before that we were—sleeping.”

Bronwynn peered at Pelmen. “Where?”

“Underneath the mountain.”

“How did you survive?” Erri asked.

“In your own words, remember the Power!” Pelmen looked at the three, smiling. “I assume that the Power saved us.”

“And the explosion?”

“I never heard the explosion. I woke in darkness with Serphimera beside me. It took us a while to convince ourselves that we weren’t some kind of shades, but then we started looking for a way out.”

“We were in a tunnel of some kind,” Serphimera added. “When we reached the end of it, we found ourselves climbing out in the middle of the Great North Fir. Then we heard of the coronation and came here to wait. We couldn’t miss that.”

“But how did you see to get out?” Rosha asked.

Pelmen shrugged. “We had light.” He stretched out his hand before him, and suddenly a globe of blue flame burst into life above his palm.

“Shaping!” Rosha whispered in shocked surprise. “Then magic isn’t gone! Some of the powers haven’t left?”

“Some apparently never leave. They’re just not ready for new discoverers.”

Rosha and Bronwynn stared at their friends in surprised delight. Erri stood to one side, chuckling.

“We buried you,” Rosha remembered suddenly. “We’ve got to tell the people you’re alive!” He started for the cave mouth. Pelmen grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

“Please,” Pelmen said quietly. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Pelmen looked at Serphimera. “It’s very pleasant for us now—a welcome rest. Give us that. Then, after you’ve moved into this underground castle, we’ll find you from time to time. There are corridors that lead to other entrances, and we can come and go without being noticed.”

Rosha looked back and forth between them, then nodded slowly. “So be it,” he said. He glanced at his wife. “That’s all right with you?”