The Consort, Chapter 33
The gazebo was draped in wildflowers from the Finaquan fields. Outdoor kitchens had been set up nearby, delicious smells from the cooks’ grills and fires wafting across the gathering on the passing breezes. The sky was sharply blue and the sun was shining. The string quartet was playing soft, unintrusive music.
The guests gathered around the gazebo. Inside it stood close family and friends, and the civil magistrate from Middleway, the nearest town to Finaqua, who’d been asked to perform the ceremony. Nobody was wearing finery. Cain wore tan trousers and a white linen shirt, DG wore a floaty sundress in all the colors of the rainbow, her hair loose and falling down her back in dark waves. No medals, swords or tiaras were in evidence. No proclamations were made, no aisles were walked, no processions mounted.
Once everyone was in place, the music stopped. Cain took DG’s hand and stepped forward with her to stand before the magistrate. The guests quieted, the magistrate beamed a motherly smile at them.
“Wyatt and DG, do you stand before me of your own free will?”
“We do.”
“Do you understand the vows you are to make, and the commitment into which you enter?”
“We do.”
“Wyatt, will you pledge yourself to DG, body and soul?”
“Yes, I will.”
“DG, will you pledge yourself to Wyatt, body and soul?”
“I will.”
“Please make your vows.”
Everyone inched a little closer as Cain and DG turned to face each other, clasping both hands between them. Nobody wanted to miss anything.
They stood there, eyes locked, while their guests waited for them to speak.
I waited for you, eight years in that suit I waited, but I didn’t know I was waiting for this. When you came I didn’t know what I was in for. I was rusted shut and I’d forgotten what life looked like until you made me remember.
I wasn’t in Kansas anymore when I came here. I was a stranger, and I felt like one for a long time, except with you. You were solid so I could brace myself while I found my footing, then you stayed in case I lost it again.
I didn’t know it would turn out like this. I thought I was just doing what you needed, what the country needed. I didn’t know it was what I needed, too.
I was so afraid that if I married you, I would lose you, because some part of me already loved you and I never thought you’d feel the same way.
You gave me a second chance.
You were my family before my own parents were.
I’m proud of the man I’ve become because of you.
I could never have been the woman I am now without you.
I will be your partner and your champion.
I will be your lover and your confidante.
Everything I am is for you.
Everything I’ll ever be, I’ll be with you.
I love you.
I promise.
DG opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She closed it again. Cain smiled crookedly and shrugged. DG just nodded.
They turned to face the magistrate again. She blinked at them, bemused. “You…don’t wish to make any vows?”
“We’ve made our vows,” Cain said, quietly.
“We don’t need to say the words,” DG added.
The magistrate nodded. “All right. You may exchange your tokens.”
While their family and friends watched, DG and Cain replaced the ornate, royal wedding bands they’d been wearing with new ones they’d chosen together.
“As you have witnessed, as I have acknowledged, you are joined as one.” She closed her book, smiling. “If you’d like to kiss, now would be the time,” she said with a wink.
DG laughed while everyone applauded. Cain was flushed from inside; he turned and took her in his arms, beaming. She was still laughing when he kissed her.
DG insisted that everyone at Finaqua come to the garden and join in the gathering, servants and footmen and guards alike. “Nobody’s royal here today,” she said, although the maids and valets didn’t look convinced.
A local band from Middleway played happy-sounding music; to DG it sounded like bluegrass by way of Dublin. The cooks served skewers of meat and vegetables, sweet cold melon soup in chilled mugs and crunchy grilled bread with honey. Ahamo popped open chilled bottles of champagne and poured generous glasses for everyone whether they wanted them or not. Everyone watched, clapping along, as one of the footmen danced a Southern folk jig.
She surveyed the gathering with satisfaction. This was what she’d wanted. A party like the kind her parents had thrown for the neighbors back in Kansas, where people sat in lawn chairs and the smell of charcoal was everywhere. She’d managed to acquire the ingredients and planned to introduce the company to the wonders of s’mores after dark. She saw her guests intermingling in surprising ways. Lord Hocksley talking to Jillian, Ambrose laughing about something with Stu Dwyer’s wife Louise. And…
DG stared. Oh, my Lord. “Cain. Cain!” she hissed, shoving her elbow into his side.
“What?” he finally said, turning away from the talk he’d been having with Jeb.
“Look,” she whispered, leaning close and cutting her eyes to where her father was deep in conversation with Thelma Winterset.
Cain’s mouth quirked. “Oh.”
“They’re just talking, right? Just…you know. Polite conversation.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“C’mon, Cain. Translate the male body language for me.”
He sighed. “He’s…leaning. He’s interested.”
“And she’s playing with her hair. She’s interested back.” DG shut her eyes. “I can’t deal with this.”
“I don’t blame him. She’s a handsome lady. Widow, isn’t she?”
She nodded. “This shouldn’t bother me. My father’s an adult.”
“It’s okay if you’re bothered.” He nudged her. “Say, what do you know about that?” he asked, cocking his head in the other direction.
DG looked and saw Az and Danny Armagnac standing side by side with a cushion of space between them too large to be comfortable but too small to be an accident. They were both staring out at the gathering, studiously ignoring each other. She smiled. “That, General, is many late-night sisterly conversations in my future.”
Cain chuckled, pulling DG closer to his side. She tilted her face up and he obliged her with a kiss. He nudged her as the musicians swung into a slow two-step. “How about a dance?” he murmured in her ear.
She drew back and gave him a look. “You are actually initiating a dance? Wait, let me note the date in my diary.”
“Don’t be smart. I’m feeling…adventurous.”
DG laughed. “You’ll set off on a quest across the whole Zone without a second thought, but a little dance requires the conquering spirit of an explorer?”
“Hey. On a quest, nobody’s around to see you make an ass of yourself.” He tilted his head down. “I just want to dance with my lovely bride, if she’s willing.”
She melted a little. “It’d be my pleasure, Mr. Cain.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cain.” He drew her to a clear spot where several couples were already dancing. He put his hand on her back while hers went to his shoulder, their free hands clasping between them. DG relaxed, their feet moving slowly all on their own. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder and she let her eyes fall closed.
The suns set and everyone pulled on sweaters and relocated to the firepit. Danny was crouching next to it, carefully arranging a meticulous construct of split logs. “You have to stack them so the air can circulate,” he explained to Azkadellia, who was standing over him cultivating an air of bemused indifference.
DG bustled about, arranging the accoutrements for the s’mores, trying not to notice the fact that her father had pulled up a deck chair next to Thelma Winterset. “Danny, how’s that fire coming?” she asked.
“Just lighting it now, ma’am,” he said, leaning over with the matches. The wood caught, then sputtered. He twisted up some butcher paper, lit that, and they all watched as it burned merrily…and then sputtered out.
“I thought you were an outdoorsman, Captain,” Azkadellia said, her tone arched with the perfect overtone of condescension to set Danny’s teeth on edge.
“I’m getting it,” he growled. “Uh…ma’am,” he added in a hurry, off Cain’s glare. He lit a dried branch with many dead leaves on it and laid it in the center of his careful log arrangement. A cheer went up from the crowd as the flames flickered high…and then they all groaned as they died just as fast.
“They’re going to take away your Merit Badge,” DG joked.
Danny held up his matchbox. “I was an Eagle Scout, ma’am. I can conquer this fire.”
DG frowned. “Wait…I don’t have to explain that? There are actually Boy Scouts in the O.Z.?” She turned and pointed at Cain, who looked very comfortable in a deck lounger, his feet kicked up and his shirt untucked. “No, don’t tell me. You have to have been one. You’re like a Boy Scout recruiting poster.”
“Of course I was a Boy Scout. Everybody was a Boy Scout.”
“Ahem, excuse me. Some of us found better uses for our time than whittling duck-calls and perfecting the tying of obscure knots,” Glitch said, raising a hand.
“Pardon me, Zipperhead. I bet you had a real exciting childhood reading science books,” Cain said.
“Hey! My science knowledge has saved your hide more than once, Tin Man!”
“Play nice, boys,” DG scolded.
“I think I’ve got it!” Danny said, dropping in another lit twist of butcher paper. For a moment, it seemed like he might really have it, too. “Damn!” he exclaimed, as the flames guttered and died yet again.
Az sighed and stepped forward. She swung her fist down over her shoulder like she was pitching a fastball; it began to glow on the upswing and she released a ball of flames down into the firepit. The logs burst alight, crackling merrily. Danny stood there, shoulders slumped, dejected. She shrugged. “All you had to do was ask.”
Everyone laughed. Az stepped away from the firepit, but then stumbled a little and put one hand to her head. The laughter died fast. DG started forward, but Danny was already there. “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he asked, his arm around her waist.
She nodded. “I’m just…oh. I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, tossing DG a shaky smile.
“Az, what’s going on? That one little flame shouldn’t do this to you,” DG said.
“Oh…well…I’ve done more magic than that today.”
“What did you do? I didn’t see you do much…”
Az smiled tightly. “It was going to thunderstorm this afternoon, Deeg.”
DG sighed. “Az…” Changing the weather was a significant feat of magic, and while Az’s health had improved somewhat, she was not up to that kind of strain.
“I couldn’t let it rain on your wedding!”
“You should go lie down, right now.”
“No, I’m okay. I just need to sit.”
“Here,” Danny said, leading her over to a nearby chair and helping her sit. “Can I get you some water, or anything?” he asked. DG watched him leaning over her sister, with whom he was supposedly on the outs, and wondered if Az’s not-quite-admitted attraction to Danny was necessarily one-sided.
Az cocked an eyebrow. “Water? No. I’ll have a beer, though.”
The s’mores were a big hit. Chocolate and graham crackers were known quantities in the Zone, but marshmallows were not, and DG’d had to enlist Glitch’s help to try and figure out how to make them, calling upon long-dormant Home Ec knowledge. It was well worth the effort, though, to see impeccably-dressed Lord Hocksley on his knees in the dirt holding his stick near the coals, grinning, and even more worth it to watch Cain sucking liquified marshmallow off his fingers, flicking his tongue out to catch the chocolate at the corner of his mouth.
“I can’t believe you managed to make marshmallows,” her father said. “I just can’t drink cocoa here without them.”
“Maybe the kitchens can make miniature ones for you now,” DG laughed.
One of the musicians pulled out a guitar and began to play songs that everyone else seemed to know; after two years here, DG knew a few Ozian folk songs but not many. One of the chambermaids sang in a sweet soprano, and at some point everything became magical. DG had joined Cain on his lounge chair, lying back between his knees with her back against his chest, his arms around her. Everyone was slumped comfortably in chairs, sprawled on blankets, or sitting lotus-style on the ground. The chambermaid’s voice harmonized with the guitarist’s, and sometimes others joined in if they knew the words.
She let her head fall back against Cain’s shoulder and stared up at the stars. The smell of the campfire and the quiet sounds of song and conversation lulled her into a kind of euphoric peace.
She felt Cain turn his head toward her a little. “See anything interesting up there?” he whispered, his lips moving against her cheek.
“Yeah,” she said, whispering as well so as not to disturb the music. “I see home.”
“Kansas?” he said, sounding a little confused.
“No.” She twisted a little so she could look at him. “Here. That was home for a long time, but now…I feel it here. I’m at home here, in the Zone.” She smiled. “Home is here, with you.”
He nodded, then leaned in a little closer. “You ready to turn in, princess?”
“I’m ready to get laid, is what I’m ready for.”
He chuckled, dark and low. “Whatever you say.”
The song came to and end and everyone clapped. DG sat up and rose to her feet, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. “Well, I think the General and I are going to say our goodnights,” she said. A chorus of exclamations greeted this statement, some evincing disappointment at their departure, some wishing them goodnight, and a couple of wolf whistles hidden behind hands, which DG ignored.
Cain bid goodnight to Glitch, Raw and Jeb while DG hugged Hank and Emily. “I’ll see you in the morning before we leave for Ridgewater,” she murmured, moving on to embrace Ahamo, then Thelma. “Anything you want to tell me?” she whispered in Thelma’s ear. She felt the heat move up Thelma’s neck as she blushed.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said as she drew back, flapping a hand, but her eyes told a different story.
DG bent over Az to kiss her forehead. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she murmured.
Az nodded. “And I might have my own personal guardian now, just like you,” she whispered, cutting her eyes quickly towards Danny, sitting nearby…one might say hovering.
Cain pulled her away, both of them waving over their shoulders at the group around the firepit; no one else seemed inclined to leave. As they stepped away into the darkness, his arm went around her shoulders. “Was that the party you wanted?”
She smiled. “Perfectly.”
They didn’t speak as they walked through the house, up the stairs to the royal chambers, which had gone unused thus far on this trip. Neither of them wanted to sleep there alone, so Cain had taken a room in the east wing near Glitch while DG bunked with Azkadellia. DG was thrumming with his nearness; it felt like a lot longer than three nights since she’d shared her bed with him.
They reached the double doors of the suite and she reached for the doorknob, but Cain stopped her. “According to your father, this is traditional,” he said, then suddenly bent and scooped her up in his arms. DG laughed and played along, looping her arms around his neck. Cain grinned at her, then looked back at the door, his brow furrowing. “Except…now I can’t open the door.”
“Why don’t you just kick it down, stud?” DG said, batting her eyelashes.
“I’m not going to kick it down, that’s ridiculous. Can you…” He looked at her. “Did you just call me ‘stud?’”
She shrugged. “Prove me wrong.”
He heaved a put-upon sigh. “Can you reach the doorknob or not?”
DG leaned over and opened the door. Cain shouldered his way through, awkwardly manhandling her across the threshold. By the time they got the door closed and were safely inside, they were both chortling. Cain put her down. “All right, that was less romantic than I might have hoped for,” he muttered.
“If you think I need help getting in the mood tonight, you’re crazy,” DG said, just before she grabbed him and further conversation was no longer necessary, or even possible.
Author's Note: It may be a couple more days for the final two chapters, they're going to be extra-long and I'm reworking some parts of them.
For casting photos for some of my OCs, including Danny Armagnac, Thelma Winterset and of course Mynus, click here.