I also noted that no time was wasted for the gray-haired, female healer who had attended me when I had sunstroke was standing to the side bearing an unlit torch which another woman was lighting.
Interesting, women lit the pyre.
Then I sucked in breath when her torch was lit and her eyes came to me before her body started my way.
Oh shit. No. Was this a queenly duty?
She kept coming.
Oh God, it looked like this was a queenly duty.
Great, f**king great.
She stopped in front of me and spoke. “My golden queen, I watched as you held her gaze when her spirit moved to the next realm. It is my honor to offer you the torch which will send her ashes to the heavens so her body can join her spirit.”
Then she offered me the torch.
Crap.
Well, there was nothing for it so I took the torch and looked at the pyre. Then I looked at the healer and asked, “Do you know her name?”
She examined my face a second before her eyes warmed and her lips tipped up in a small smile.
“Her name was Mahyah, my true, golden queen.”
I nodded. Then I took in a deep breath and walked to the pyre.
Then I looked up at the body so high up I couldn’t see much except they’d changed the gauze, there was no blood to be seen and her face had also been shrouded.
Then I thought about a young Korwahk woman who possibly walked through the parade and looked over the warriors in their avenue while wondering which one would be hers, maybe excited about her life as a warrior’s wife and in three short weeks she’d been debased, defiled, beaten and abused.
Then I turned around and called to Diandra.
Quickly, she moved to me.
When she arrived, I whispered, “Can you translate?”
She nodded.
“You can say no if you’re uncom –” I started but she shook her head and touched my arm.
“I will speak your words, my queen.”
I smiled at her.
Then I wasted no time so I wouldn’t lose my nerve, turned to the crowd and spoke loudly in Korwahk, doing the best I could do and hoping I didn’t f**k it up.
“I am only recently Korwahk and I am new to your tongue. I have not yet learned it enough to honor young Mahyah on her pyre before we send her ashes to the heavens. So my friend Diandra will be translating for you the words to a song I sang to Mahyah some days ago in hopes of reaching her spirit and giving her a few moments of peace. Before her death, she told me the land that I sang of was the land where she wanted to go. Now, I will sing the song to you so you can know where Mahyah is and she is somewhere happy.”
Then I looked to Diandra who nodded to me.
Then I sang without accompaniment. I didn’t do great, I didn’t suck. I certainly didn’t sound like seraphs, though I didn’t know what they sounded like. The good news was, once I closed my eyes and gave my mind over to the song, I remembered all the words. And I was so into it, I didn’t even hear Diandra translating the words while I sang.
When I was done, I opened my eyes and saw a sea of faces, there were some women crying, their eyes wet, their hands to their mouths but every eye was on me.
“I don’t know what lemon drops are, Circe, and they don’t have chimney tops but I did my best,” Diandra whispered to me and I turned my head to her and smiled.
Then I grabbed her hand, squeezed and whispered, “I’m sure it was perfect.”