Morgan Rice - A Sky of Spells

There came a huge cheer, as horns sounded all up and down the courtyard, and people broke out into merriment. Musicians picked up their instruments, and the sound of trumpets and cymbals and horns and flutes and drums filled the air. Dancing broke out everywhere, strangers locking arms and spinning in jubilation.

The Summer Solstice had officially begun, and no time was wasted. Gwen looked down and saw tables already being rolled out everywhere, casks rolled up beside them, platters of meats and cheeses and fruits laid out as far as the eye could see. It would be a feast unlike any other.

Gwen looked up at the now-hollow fruit, swinging there, and as she examined it, she had a moment of dread: the inside of it, usually a bright yellow, was rotted to the core, black. She was the only one who could see it, from her angle, high up on the platform, and she quickly looked away. She did not want anyone else to see this, and she tried to push it from her mind, to pretend she never saw it. But it was, she knew, a terrible omen.

“Gwendolyn?”

Gwen looked over to see Thor standing there, smiling, hand outstretched; he had climbed the steps, and was waiting to help her back down.

Gwen put on a good face, and she forced herself to smile wide as she descended to the shouts and cheers of endless well-wishers, all of them embracing her, patting her on the back. Thor took her hand and she walked in a daze, filled with conflicting emotions, her stomach so large, as he led her past thousands of loyal and devoted subjects.

“They are enamored of you,” Thor said. “They don’t just admire you, they truly love you. Most unusual for a leader. You are like a mother to all of them, or a sister. You can see it in their eyes.”

Gwendolyn looked around, and she saw that Thor was right. She felt all of their love, and it was the greatest feeling of her life. She had never thought she’d be capable of ruling a kingdom. She had always assumed that it was only something a man could do.

“I love them back,” she replied.

Thor led her to a long feasting table in the midst of the courtyard, seated with all her family and council and dozens of nobles and lords and foreign dignitaries. Gwendolyn, ever the ruler, walked around the table, greeting each noble there, making a point to make everyone feel as welcome as possible.

Gwen spotted Kendrick and Sandara, Reece and Selese, seated beside Erec and Alistair, and she fell in beside them. Gwen had become so close to Thor’s sister these last moons, she already felt like a sister to her, like the sister she’d never had. Gwen had also become equally close to Selese, her sister-in-law to be. She had always been close to Reece, and anyone he loved, she knew she would love to. And she did love her, more than she ever expected, not out of fraternal obligation, but because she was discovering what an amazing person Selese was, and how devoted she was to her brother.

When Gwen had found out that she’d had the good fortune of being proposed to on the same day as Selese, she felt that it was meant to be, and had insisted that Selese and Reece share her joy, and be married together in a double wedding. Selese and Reece had been thrilled. The wedding preparations under way now were for all four of them, and in preparing and planning, Gwen had become as close to Selese as Alistair. In a way, it had been like she’d been given two sisters at once.

Gwen embraced her brothers, Kendrick and Reece, and looked about.

“Where’s Godfrey?” she asked Reece, realizing one of her brothers was missing.

“Where else?” Illepra remarked, shaking her head in frustration. “Drinking and having fun,” she added, and pointed across the courtyard.

Gwen turned and followed her gaze, and saw a stage being rolled to the center of the courtyard, Godfrey standing in its center, dressed in costume, Akorth and Fulton beside him, along with dozens of their tavern friends. A horn sounded, and the common folk began to gather about the stage.

“He’s incorrigible,” Illepra said. “I searched for him all morning, only to find him in one of the new taverns you ordered built. There are too many of them. King’s Court has become a drinking haven!” she said, laughing.

“The people need a reason to celebrate, and a place to forget their woes,” Gwen said, “as much as they need food and shelter.”

Gwen sighed.

“One cannot keep the people back from the taverns,” she added. “If you don’t build them, they will drink anyway, in private. At least now they can come together, and we can regulate them.”

“HEAR ALL AND ONE COME TOGETHER!” Godfrey yelled out, as the stage was rolled out front and center.

Musicians quieted, the jugglers and fire-throwers stopped, and the crowd pressed in more closely, milling about the stage, an eager anticipation in the air, eager to see another play by Godfrey and his men.

“And what do you have for us this time?” O’Connor called out to Godfrey.

Godfrey stepped aside to reveal a tall, thin actor, dressed in a scarlet robe and hood, who stepped forward, threw back his hood and scowled at the crowd.

“I am Rafi! A man to be feared!” the actor hissed.

The crowd booed and jeered.

Godfrey stumbled forward, his belly out before him, crumpling his face, doing his best to act mean.

“And I am Andronicus!” Godfrey said. “The most feared of all commanders!”

The crowd booed.

“No—wait!” Godfrey called out, stopping, confusion on his face. “I forgot: I am dead! And no one fears the dead!”

Godfrey suddenly slumped down, collapsed on the stage and did not move, and the crowd shouted out with laughter and relief.

The actor playing Rafi stood over him and held out his hands:

“Rise, Andronicus! I command you!”

Godfrey suddenly jumped to his feet, and the crowd booed. But he then chased Rafi around the stage and caught him and strangled him, pretending to throttle him to death. The two of them wrestled on stage, and the crowd howled with laughter.

Finally, Godfrey killed him and rose, victorious, and the crowd cheered.

Another actor, lean and unshaved, stepped forward, frowning.

“And who are you?” Godfrey asked.

“I am Gareth, the former king!” the actor said.

The crowd booed. As Gwen heard his name, it sent a chill through her spine. She flashed back to her killing him. She had no regrets—it was justice for her father. Yet still, the very thought of her former brother pained her. It was too fresh for her.

“And I, McCloud!” Akorth announced, rushing forward.

The crowd jeered, and threw tomatoes at him.

“You shall rule the Western Kingdom, and I shall rule the East!” McCloud said to Gareth.

They both reached out and clasped hands. But as they did, a woman stepped forward from the crowd, holding a long sword, and pretended to stab each of them through the chest. Each one sank to his knees, collapsing to the ground, dead.

The woman turned and faced the crowd, and raised her sword high.

“I am Gwendolyn, the greatest of all MacGil rulers!”

The crowd roared with approval, and Gwendolyn felt herself blush. She was overwhelmed with love for her people, but she also felt a deep sense of lingering sadness for all that transpired. Although six moons had passed, it all still felt like yesterday—and watching this farcical play somehow brought it all back.

“Excuse me,” Gwen said to Thor.

She turned away from the stage, unable to watch anymore, and made her way back to the table. Thor followed on her heels, taking her hand, looking over at her with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping back a tear, and forced a big smile.

“It’s just the baby,” she said.