COMMAND THE TIDES - Wren Handman Page 0,72
tasks to be done at camp.”
He nodded, rising with her, and the two of them made their way back to the growing circle of light, a silent figure walking in their shadows.
Chapter Fourteen
THEY HELD THE FUNERALS that evening, waiting until the stars were visible in the night sky. Those who could stand joined ranks in a half-circle around a bonfire, with those wounded but conscious sitting at their feet. There were no white sheets in which to wrap the bodies, so they had been wrapped in their extra clothes, with stripes of white bandages circling them. Each was carried on the shoulders of four people, and there were so few in the party unwounded that it had been decided the same four would carry each of the bodies, one at a time. Taya was surprised to see that Liam had volunteered for the duty—it seemed that every time she thought she understood him, she found herself mistaken.
Marce stood at the mouth of the semi-circle, dressed in a traditional robe. It was black wool, with tiny holes cut through it. His skin glowed white through the fabric, and his arms were spread to the side. He began the ceremony with a traditional prayer for the dead, and then he quietly intoned the names of the dead. He repeated the first name, and then the body-bearers came forward, the corpse balanced between them. They walked to the fire and then stood, waiting for Marce to speak.
“Yariel, we beseech you from below. This man has died with your name on his lips, and your love in his heart. For his morals he died, as you for yours. Take him now, and may his ashes find your arms and be sheltered there.” He bowed his head, and the sweating men threw the body into the fire. It was the first time Taya had ever seen a Sephrian burial, and at first she was struck by the beauty of the moment. In Miranov, bodies were consigned to rivers or the sea, to find Ashua, but this too seemed to resonate. As the smoke from the fire curled up into the night sky, it seemed so possible that it might reach their god, frozen as pinpoints of light in the sky. But as the flame began to eat into the dead she was struck by a terrible sweet smell, like pork roasting, and her stomach turned. She was quietly sick in the scrub by the fire pit, praying no one was paying her any mind.
Marce repeated the words for each man, and then he brought forward a cask of wine. “As we hold vigil here, we speak of the dead, and of their deeds, and so too do we speak of our dead, and of the stories that made our lives. May the vigil begin.” He uncorked the wine and took a long swallow, and every throat let out a resounding cheer. Their voices echoed from the cavern walls and filled the space until they could have been two score, or a hundred, for the passion that they held.
People broke into groups of two or three, speaking quietly, sharing their stories. Some of the wounded fell asleep in the warmth of the bonfire, and they were covered with blankets and left to their restless dreams.
At one point in the endless night, Taya noticed David and Ryan sitting to the side, their heads bowed together. People were giving them a wide berth, leaving them to their thoughts, but something prompted Taya to walk over and sit down beside them.
“You asked me for a story once,” Taya said, resting her hand against her chin. “Did Darren ever give it to you?”
Startlingly, it was Ryan who answered her. “No.”
“We never asked,” David admitted. “It seemed prying.”
“Would you like to hear it now?”
When they nodded, she settled down.
“It’s a simple tale, full of intrigue and dashing heroes. It starts, as all good stories do, with a young woman, too young to know the world but thinking she has more wisdom than all the kingdoms combined, and a young man, with one constant mistress, the sea, and a mother who wants something a little more solid for her darling boy.
“The woman wants to own her own store, but only married couples are allowed to own property. Her parents think she should find a sweet young lad and marry, give her life up to her family like a dutiful child of Ashua. She doesn’t like this plan, wants to be beholden to