The Wintershall Tales

The coronation was a splendid and archaic affair.  By ancient tradition, it started with a procession from the great southern gate to the city and wound up through the wide streets to the Great Hall of the People below the palace. 

Fortitude had not heard anything of Merrin since the day of the assembly a week ago, but knowing her as he did; he doubted that she would miss this ceremony.  Despite the havoc that he expected from Merrin’s eventual appearance, he was in a buoyant good mood.  This was mostly due to the presence of Adela standing at his side.  The coronation seemed somehow less important than the fact that this was the day of their wedding and he found himself repeatedly smiling down at her.

With a triumphal blare of trumpets, the procession started forward.  A thousand Lunar guards led the procession and as many followed behind.  Every uniform had been cleaned and pressed and every button and weapon gleamed.  They marched with pride as they led their new King and protector to his coronation.

The thousand notables who had acclaimed Fortitude King at the grand assembly marched next in the column.  They wore the colours of their various offices, guilds and estates in splendid mass of coloured silks, opulent furs and rich metals.

Fortitude followed them with Adela at his side.  King William of Bayonnar marched directly behind them, followed by Fortitude’s other companions.  Four hundred of King William’s personal guard and retinue followed behind them. 

By Fortitude’s calculation, the mile long march to the Great Hall of the People would be completed before the last columns of Lunar troops set out. 

The procession moved slowly through the city.  Cheering joyful people lined every inch of the way.  They were crammed into every bit of roadway, footpath, window and balcony.  Flowers rained down on the procession and hundreds of voices called out their blessings and good wishes to Fortitude and his bride as they passed by.

Fortitude was astonished and humbled by the good will he saw on every face.  Rapturous crowds chanted his name in places and he saw hope and approval everywhere he looked.

Fortitude sneaked more than one glance at Adela as they ascended the hill.  She looked radiant and joyful and was clearly revelling in the occasion.

At length, the procession reached the Great Hall and wound into the candlelit chamber beyond.  A choir of several hundred voices was singing some triumphal hymn of praise as they entered and a gigantic instrument sitting at one side accompanied their voices. 

Adela identified it to Fortitude in a low whisper.  “It’s a pipe organ,” she said.

It was a remarkable instrument and the sight of it being worked distracted Fortitude long enough that he temporarily forgot his nervousness.  The huge wooden case was filled with long pipes that had been intricately painted with golden whorls and twists.  Huge levers were spread around the outside of the organ case and priests from the order of Grism could be seen – two to a lever – leaping up and down, pumping the wooden shafts up and down frenetically.  Another priest was at a huge console bashing down wide keys with his fists.  Each time he hit a key, a huge set of notes would ring out covering two or three octaves and forming entire chords.  The organ and the choir suddenly made everything seem ethereal and unworldly.

Fortitude and Adela were led to the double throne on the dais at the front of the hall.  All the high priests and great nobles of Archesia stood there in a circle around the throne. 

On a table to one side a golden sword and crown sat on a cushion of blue velvet.  Fortitude gasped as he saw them for the first time.  For about the tenth time that day the whole affair suddenly became unreal and something that was happening to someone else.

Nevertheless, he kept his legs moving.  Carolus led him and Adela to the thrones where they each took a seat.

King William stopped in front of the thrones and nodded regally to Fortitude and Adela in turn.  He then turned to the mass of people and cleared his throat ready to speak. 

Before he could say anything, however, the air shimmered and Merrin appeared.  Her dress was now blood-red and was throbbing and twisting slightly.

“Oh thank dread Kha’ill, I made it!”  She stared anxiously at Fortitude.  “Can I still be a bridesmaid?”  She strode over to where Fortitude was seated leaving a long thick trail of bubbling blood on the floor behind her.

Those nearby cried out in alarm and disgust.  Fortitude glanced at Adela and found her edging away fearfully.  He tried to imagine how it would look with Merrin standing next to Adela during the service and formed the unpleasant notion that Adela had a good chance of ending up insane, devoured or some combination of the two. 

An idea came to him and he turned to Merrin.  “Say Merrin,” he said.  “Rather than just being a bridesmaid, I’ve got a more fitting role for you,” he said.  “As your high priest, I would be honoured if you would carry out the service to marry us.”

Merrin’s eyes bulged rapturously.  “Beastlord, I would be so honoured.” 

She paused and focussed down on the dress for a second.  It suddenly turned black and began changing shape.  Within seconds, it held the rough form of a huge black robe with a towering black hat.  Tendrils continued to twist and writhe, but now they formed a collar around her neck. 

Merrin peered down critically at the dress then looked up at Fortitude.  “What do you think?” she said.  “Does this look like the kind of thing a marriage celebrant would wear?”

Fortitude made some noncommittal noise and placed Merrin to one side for a moment.  He then turned and nodded at the King. 

The King darted a wondering look at Merrin then stepped forward and lifted the golden sword from the pillow.  He then turned to face the congregation and spoke so he could be heard throughout the hall.  “I, William the Sixth, King of Bayonnar, Routh and the Khandahey Islands, Protector of Archesia and Gavin, and Defender of the Faiths, do stand here today in the sight of all the gods to put the traditional questions to Fortitude, Prince of Archesia.” 

Fortitude stood.

“Do you swear to defend Archesia as its rightful King for as long as you shall live?  Do you swear to uphold the laws and to respect the rights of all those who live in Archesia?  Will you use this sword to defend the weak, to maintain the law and to protect Archesia?”

“I will,” Fortitude replied.

The King reversed the sword and gave it to Fortitude hilt first.  “Then take this sword, the sacred blade of Aachen and use it for Archesia’s good.”  Fortitude took it and bound it to his side.

The King them picked up the crown from the blue cushion and spoke again.  “Do you swear to rule wisely, with compassion and honour and for the good of all Archesians?  Will you use the divine office of King to bring order, prosperity and dignity to all Archesia?”

“I will,” Fortitude said firmly.

The King placed the crown on Fortitude’s brow.  “Then I proclaim you King Fortitude the First, sovereign lord of Archesia and Gavin.”  He turned and stared at the people.  “Behold your King.”

The hall erupted in cheers and applause.  Over the acclamation, the choir and organ began again.  Fortitude lifted a hand to acknowledge the people.  He felt overwhelmed and humbled again.

At length the people quietened and the choir finished.  The King walked over to where Merrin was standing and bowed to her.  “They’re all yours,” he said.

Merrin’s eyes lit up and she glided forward and stopped in front of Fortitude and Adela.

“Right,” she said.  She cleared her throat and then began to speak.  Her voice was oddly amplified and insane harmonics and a distant cacophony of gibbering voices echoed her words in a mad counterpart.  “Marriage is a futile illusory state,” she started.  “Based on blind trust, wishful thinking and a strange abuse of property laws.  It is a state where insignificant little mortals place their petty lives in each other’s hands in the hope that they will have someone to care for them when they become drooling imbeciles as a result of old age or some visitation from the daemon sultan Az’aal.”

There was absolute silence in the great chamber.  Merrin beamed happily at Fortitude and the ashen faced Adela.  She then stared out into the chamber and opened her arms wide to the mass of people.  “Is there anyone here who knows of any reason why these two people should not be married?”  Her face grew dark and her dress began to flail menacingly.  “Go on,” she said.  “Anyone?  Speak now and I’ll have you dissolved by slugguths.”

Funnily enough, there were no objections so Merrin turned back to Fortitude.  “Very well, I shall now put a number of questions to you so you can declare your intentions to Adela.”  She glanced around at the mass of people gathered around and her voice lifted slightly.  “I do so in the sight of all you gathered here, including the four dimensional shamblers, both abysmal demons and the elder god currently hanging over this city.”

There were moans and cries of horror from out in the hall.  Merrin visibly suppressed a smirk.  “Well Beastlord,” she said.  “Will you have this sack of mortal meat known as Adela?  Will you be infatuated with her for six months or so, then pretend thereafter?  Will you then breed repeatedly to continue the illusion of love throughout the next twenty years or so?”

Fortitude looked rather taken aback by this line of questioning but he rallied fast.  He turned so he was facing Adela and spoke loud enough for the entire chamber to hear.  “If you mean, goddess Merrin…” he began.  “That I will take Adela as my wife, love her, cherish and care for her all my days, then I swear that I will, with all my heart.”

Merrin rolled her eyes and stared at Fortitude disapprovingly.  Nevertheless, she turned to look at Adela.  “Very well then.  Adela,” she said.  “Will you take the Beastlord?  Throughout all your life, will you keep up the pretence that he is smarter, more sensitive and more vigorous than he really is?  Will you put up with his running with the wild wolves and leaving unnatural amounts of grey hair around the bathtub in his later years?  Will you accept his duty as my high priest and put up with visitations from the occasional chaos god, daemon prince and amorphous blob?”

Adela shuddered but took her lead from Fortitude.  She spoke loudly and clearly.  “If you mean, goddess, that I will take Fortitude as my husband to love, cherish and care for, then I swear that I will – with all my heart.”

Merrin frowned between Adela and Fortitude.  “I really don’t think you both understand the insignificance and hopelessness of all this,” she began, then sighed and gave up.  “I think I’ll just skip to the end.”

She turned to face the appalled and thoroughly disconcerted congregation.  “I declare this couple married,” she said.  She made a flourishing gesture.  “Behold the new husband and wife.  I give you the Beastlord and Adela – Your new Priest-King and Queen.”

Slowly but with increasing enthusiasm the applause began.