Blood of the King - Khirro's Journey Book 1 Page 0,136
the top of the stairs, Therrador drew his sword from its bejeweled scabbard and offered it to the High Confessor. When Aurna accepted it, Therrador went to one knee, head bowed and hands clasped before his heart. The cheering and whistling ceased as the blare of trumpets ended, echoes fading to silence a few seconds later.
Therrador closed his eyes; butterflies fluttered in his stomach. So many years of being the faithful servant, of waiting and planning, finally coming to fruition. He thought of Graymon, and of his poor, lost Seerna. He’d never forgive Braymon for what happened to her, but here was his vengeance, and he hadn’t raised a sword. When he imagined these moments, they tasted sweet—not so now. The specter of Graymon’s abduction clouded his mind, stealing enjoyment from every thought and deed. He drew a deep breath.
It occurred to him the throngs would think him praying as he knelt there like a good, Gods-fearing king should. He was praying, of a fashion, but not for the things which they’d want their king to pray. He prayed for Graymon and that the Archon would hold to her word. He silently told the Gods he’d give the entire kingdom away to get his son back safely.
The priest spoke, interrupting Therrador’s thoughts.
“Earth and Wind, Fire and Water,” he intoned in a deep voice practiced at addressing crowds. “The elements, the Gods, have brought before us this day our new king, to guide us and lead us in these troubled times.”
A neophyte appeared beside Aurna to take Therrador’s sword from the High Confessor. A second boy gave the priest a wooden box intricately carved with scrollwork on all four sides. Aurna opened the lid on ancient, creaking hinges, put his hand in and came out with a fistful of soil.
“Earth supports us, gives us food and hope as the king supports us, loves us, provides for us.” He waved his hand toward Therrador sending a spray of soil first across one shoulder then the other as he remained head bowed and eyes closed. “By Earth, with Earth, do you vow to provide for and love your kingdom and all its people?”
Therrador raised his head and opened his eyes.
“As king, I swear by Earth.”
Aurna nodded and returned the chest to the apprentice, brushing dirt from his soft white hands before the boy closed the lid. The next neophyte came to the High Confessor’s side and handed him a wooden tube. Aurna accepted it without removing his gaze from the man kneeling before him.
“Wind guides us and moves us, brings us weather and seasons as the king guides us and steers us through times of feast and famine, abundance and drought, war and peace.” He pressed the wooden tube to his lips and blew through it onto Therrador’s face. His breath smelled of last night’s wine and a bit of spittle landed on Therrador’s cheek. “By Wind, with Wind, do you vow to guide and steer your kingdom and all its people no matter the season?”
Therrador swallowed, resisting the urge to wipe the saliva from his cheek. “As king, I swear by Wind.”
Aurna nodded and passed the tube back to the apprentice, then received a lit torch from another. The torch guttered and spat in the still air, sending black smoke swirling toward the ceiling.
“Fire warms us and lights us, keeps darkness and cold at bay in the deepest night, protects us from all it holds as the king holds us close and keeps us from evil.” The High Confessor touched the torch first to Therrador’s right forearm, then his left. The kerosene spread upon them before the ceremony burst into flame. The crowd gasped. Therrador held his arms to the side keeping the flames from his face. “By Fire, with Fire, do you vow to be the light of your kingdom and keep the evils in the dark from your people?”
“As king, I swear by Fire.”
A sheen of sweat shone on Therrador’s brow and cheeks. It was good Water was the next God to be addressed. As another neophyte appeared, handing Aurna an ewer filled with clear water, the flames on Therrador’s arms faded leaving a layer of black soot on his previously dazzling armor. He cursed to himself.
“Water gives us life, replenishes us and strengthens us as the king lends us strength and keeps us alive.”
Therrador tipped his head back as Aurna lifted the ewer. The High Confessor sent a thin stream of cool water trickling over Therrador’s face, running down