The Wolves of Gryning: Chapter 24
Chapter 24: The Pyre
The attempt on Besegrare's life was on everybeast's mind the next morning. Word had spread quickly, but the identity of the assassin was yet unknown. This had aroused serious suspicion. Who could have done such a thing? The wolves had ideas about who it may have been, and began to blame one another; for there were many circles in that time that had grown to distrust Besegrare, and many of them had spoken about taking action. None of them had felt brave enough to do it. But it was settled with a pronouncement from the king, which directed their attentions to a new matter:
"Though my life was threatened, I walk among you today thanks to the efforts of the goodly Lord Khiifa, ruler of the people's keep. In my hour of darkest need, it was he who saved my life. He paid a dear price for his valor, and gave up his own life for mine. The name of our assassin is yet unknown, and it is unlikely we ever will. Nobeast has claimed him as a companion or a friend, and his body will be disposed of. We will continue to search for the culprits responsible. It is possible he acted alone. But though we do not know his name, we know the name of the one who thwarted his efforts. Lord Khiifa--let his memory live on in every beast among us!"
A cheer went up in the courts in the name of Khiifa, and Besegrare locked eyes with the Lady Thybion as he spoke. Her solemn face betrayed no emotion, but she left the room quickly. Besegrare announced that the wedding would continue to take place the next day, and that the festivities would be dedicated to the fallen Lord.
"This day," he told them, "Is for mourning. We will burn Khiifa tomorrow at dawn, and hold the wedding after."
Lady Thybion was unprepared for how open her room felt. Khiifa, idiot mine, at least you had a presence! He'd been a big wolf, and dominated the chamber when they were together. His hulking shoulders and heavy cloaks would sweep around the room, seemingly reaching from end to end. She remembered thinking, This is all we get? Lord and Lady and we sleep in a glorified dormitory!
She saw now how wrong she'd been, all those years. The room was spacious. Empty, even. The rug on the floor did nothing to spruce up the space. The bed took up half the floorplan, too, and without Khiifa in it it just looked like a cruel joke. Something to fill up the vastness of the chamber she lived in.
Thybion heard a knock at her door, and opened it to welcome in her visitor.
"Ashes," Seuthu said, stepping in. "It's really true, isn't it? Something's happened."
"You don't know?"
"I know something's amiss. What, exactly, I'm not sure."
"It's true," snapped Thybion. "Flame knows why, but it's true."
Thybion shut the door, taking care to lock it. The game they were playing was a dangerous one; there was no room for risk. Khiifa had spoiled too much already. Seuthu eyed Thybion's decanter and licked her lips, but made no move. Thybion noticed her greedy eyes and said nothing. She gestured to the chair in the room's corner and Seuthu made her way over, her eyes lingering on the bottle of spirits.
"This isn't the time for drinking," Thybion said, her voice a keen edge of anger. Seuthu just snorted and crossed her arms. She winced, and leaned over, breathing deeply. A groan escaped her lips, but she cut it short and sat up with her fingers pressed to her temples. There was desperation in her voice when she said:
"If this isn't the time for a drink, I don't know what is."
"What's happened to you? You look terrible."
Seuthu's face was pinched, her eyes shot full of blood and rimmed with gunk. Her fur was a tangled mess, sticking up on all ends.
"Never mind me. What of Besegrare?"
"Our king still lives. My husband does not."
"Then it must have been him. Ashes, I can hardly move!"
Seuthu's pain was not lost on Thybion, but she hadn't yet remarked on it. The girl's demeanor suggested profound discomfort, and likely was in for a day full of suffering.
"Drugged," Thybion said. "Is that it?"
Seuthu nodded. Her eyes fixated on the decanter once more. Thybion finally waved her hand, dismissing the girl from her chair, and she rose to pour herself a drink. Thybion continued speaking, running her thoughts out loud for the she-wolf to hear.
"For your own sake, I hope you're not lying. What did he think was going to happen? You were going to burst into the king's quarters and stop him? It's a day earlier than we'd planned, either way. I didn't think Khiifa was that paranoid; but no, it doesn't sound implausible. I thought I had a tighter rein on him than that."
Seuthu drank greedily, and nearly moaned with satisfaction.
"My head's been pounding," she said.
"If Khiifa did this, it doesn't match with Besegrare's story."
"And what story is that?" Seuthu poured herself a second cup.
"He claims Khiifa saved his life from some nameless assailant. I'd thought perhaps he meant you."
"Clearly not."
Seuthu grunted again, and set her cup down with trembling hands.
"Whatever poison he used is long lasting. I don't know how long it will take to wear off completely."
"Find me when it does, and we will discuss our next moves. I'm not sure I can trust the others now."
"But you can still trust me?" Seuthu's eyes glinted.
"I can't trust anybeast right now. Don't think you're in the clear."
"If you can't believe me, you'll never get anywhere. You need me in this."
Thybion bared her teeth, growling, and a knife appeared in her hands. Seuthu didn't see where it had come from. Her quick draw was pressed up against her throat.
"Khiifa is dead--that makes me your leader now. Don't forget who you are talking to!"
Seuthu's skin was stretched thin across her skull, highlighting the joints of her jaw beneath the wiry brown fur. She leaned back, hands raised, and Thybion withdrew the knife. She replaced it in its jeweled sheath and hid it once more in the folds of her robes.
"Leave me be," Thybion said. "I need to think."
"My lady," Seuthu said. She departed from the room, closing the door with a heavy shudder behind her. She heard the sounds of commotion in the keep below her. Her people were just as upset about Khiifa's death as she was--maybe more than her, but for all the wrong reasons. This blow would set her back some. Besegrare was on the alert now, would be watching her closely. She needed a new plan, a new path to the throne. This would be her own special al-Valar. She'd walk the path to victory, oh yes. One little setback wouldn't stop her. As soon as she figured out her next move, the throne would be hers. That left just one little problem--how, exactly, was she supposed to progress from here?
She picked up the glass Seuthu had set down, half full, and drained the rest of it herself. Warmth spread through her. She looked out the window and could see beyond the city walls, along the edge of the cliff, the acolytes working on a funeral pyre. From afar she watched them, the wood stacked higher and higher, and from on high she thought their motions looked like ants.
The wolves gathered on the cliffside. A procession of onlookers poured out of the city walls through a high arch, pressing close to the crowd where it surrounded the pyre. Seuthu was among them, and picked her way between the other beasts until she could see through. The wood was piled high and topped with a flat bed of straw and grasses, whereupon lay the corpse of the Lord Khiifa. His body and face were covered with a green blanket emblazoned with the sign of the Oak and the insignia of the People's Keep. She glared at the body.
How does death taste, you fool? I should feel sorrow for you, but I can't. If you hadn't done this we could've been taking the throne this morning, burning the body of the king. Well, now none of us are going to take the throne. Not today. She felt her pulse rising and clenched her fists by her sides. And how long until we can seize power now? You've set us back tremendously. And for what? The chance to prove yourself?
She spat at her feet, and watched the high priestess approach with her torch.
Tehlina handed her firetree to Grehn, who sat calmly off to the side on a raised wooden platform. An acolyte stood behind him with his hands on the valent's wheelchair, ready to help him down from the platform when necessary. He attempted a weak smile, but she couldn't reciprocate. Her heart felt heavy. Madness was descending upon Gryning. Besegrare was seated on her other side, and beside him sat the swordbearer Seshi and the advisor, Tanda. She looked to her king for a signal but he gave none, staring straight at the body, motionless. She nodded to herself and began.
In both hands she grasped the ceremonial torch and stepped down from the platform. The burning of a body was the most sacred of rituals. Though the soul might pass on to the next life in the Twilit Forest, the body would return to the Flame. The wolves did not bury their dead--and shuddered to think that other beasts did. A body buried was a body that the wolves couldn't bear to part with, as though they hoped for life to be restored. Tehlina presided over these ceremonial burnings. It was one of the aspects of her job as the high priestess. She took no comfort in it, though she'd seen it a thousand times.
Only a wolf of some significant status would be burned by their lonesome. Khiifa was such a wolf, and she saw that the pyre had been built for one. When beasts in the city died, their bodies would be gathered together and she would perform a burning ceremony for the multitude of hosts.
She held high the torch in one of her hands and used the other to withdraw a paper from a pocket in her robe, shaking loose a prayer scroll. She placed one end of the scroll at the foot of the body and unspooled it over his stiff form. She'd spent the night before drafting a prayer of protection, of thanks, and of acceptance. The words were always the same--but something of delicacy had to be used in the scripting. She didn't need to look at it to know what it said.
Accept unto the heart of Flame this beast whose soul has departed from us. Grant protection to this soul, and light the way through the chambers of death to the forest of the fold. Show this beast the al-Valar. Accept humbly the thanks of the living for the life of the dead, and for the wonders which this beast witnessed in their lifetime.
It was nonspecific enough to be used for anybeast who died, and was used even on the non-wolves, should they perish within the city's walls. The words filled her with a dread she knew too well. There was a taste of death in everything she did, in everything at Gryning. She'd noticed it months ago. What could it mean?
Tehlina stilled her heart and stilled her hand. There were no words to this ceremony. With the wolves watching all around, she lowered the torch to base of the pyre. The oiled wood caught in a flash and roared to life. There was no quiet spread of flames leaping to their neighboring logs. Just the instant moment of fire alight and blazing, as Khiifa's body began to be consumed.
Nashil watched from afar, under the branches of an oak. Winter had stripped the tree of life. Its branches were stiff with frost and chill, and they creaked above her, loud snapping sounds as it shifted its old bones. She held her hand to her belly and grimaced. There was a life inside of her, and with every groaning snap of the tree she imagined the bones of her child shifting within her, like some ancient spirit born unto her.
Khiifa burned brilliantly, the green edges of the blanket curling under the heat, his flesh and fur going up in smoke. The acrid scent reached her even from her distance, the wind blowing the smoke Southbound over the top of the city. A crowd of beasts had gathered to watch--mostly those from the People's Keep, still shocked at the loss of their leader. She wondered how many of them had stayed at home, how many beasts walked the streets of Gryning alone at this moment. It didn't matter that they weren't here to see this.
Soon enough they'd smell it.
And why this tragedy?
Somebeast tried to kill Besegrare. He says Khiifa saved him, but... But Khiifa hadn't stopped Besegrare from being stabbed. Is that it? Is that what worries you? Besegrare's strong enough to take more than that. She bit her nails, her head tilted away from the pyre. She didn't want to watch anymore.
When the last burning branch had been consumed, and the ashes had been swept away by the wind, the high priestess beckoned to a group of black-robed acolytes. They silently marched forward, in pairs, holding between each of them the handles of a heavy vessel. The acolytes gathered around the pile of embers quietly smoldering. They tipped the vessels up and coarse sand fell, smothering the remains. When the last of the sand had been piled they carried the vessels away and a lone acolyte approached, smoothing the sand over with a rake. Besegrare rose without a word and stepped down from his platform, followed by Seshi and Tanda. The wolves parted before their king as he strode back through the arch and into the city, leaving the pyre behind.