The Branchalite Legionnaires

Chapter 20: The Wedding at Waw.

The sun had chosen to banish the clouds for the event. The sky was that faded blue that stretches out forever, a cool blanket to wrap the world in. Snow still lay on the ground, but the trees stood up as a bulwark against the horizon, daring the snow to continue its advance against the promise of spring. The aghar manned the fortress walls. Michelle relied on their inherent capacity for fear to alert the wedding party if anything should happen. Terror was a common feature in their lives after all, along with an inability to count above one.

Part of the fort's interior, now freed by the absence of the wagons, (which were outside the fortress with the horses and trade stock, ready to head off toward Alsip), had been converted into an outdoor ceremonial hall. Chairs borrowed from the chambers below were set out for the small number of those who wished to attend – a couple of dozen. Michelle thought it was a good number and the setting quite idyllic. Members of the cell were there of course – Fandy to one side with the rings, Sarah officiating next to the huge harp that went everywhere with her, but she rarely dragged out, primarily because of its bulk. Today it served as an altar to Branchala.

Michelle was stood to the right of Sarah, dressed in her finery. Steven was to Sarah's left, with Asmar beside him. They were both big men, Asmar a little taller than Steven, with long blonde hair and blue eyes and wearing his most formal furred clothes. Steven's green eyes appeared a little moist, but no-one would have pointed it out to him. He wore the animal hides associated with the Weya-Lu, which left his forearms bare, revealing the hawk tattoos in blue, red and black ink. His skin was naturally olive complexioned, and the tattoos were marvelous works of art done by the tribe when he completed his apprenticeship as a smith. The clothes emphasized his muscular frame, developed from years of work as a smith and a warrior. His short brown hair was neatly combed and he bore a serious expression for the occasion.

Stura was sat in the front row, on the bride's side. She wore her armor and had actually been cleaned for the event, with Fandy's help no doubt. Long blonde hair was done in braids to the middle of her back. Her cheeks were shaved, something that Michelle could not recall happening before, and her pale complexion was burnished by the freezing breeze that caressed the skin with a frosty appetite. The cloak she wore was thick and there was a stick in a belt at her waist, but she bore no weapons. She was smiling, albeit in a distant way that Michelle understood too well: both of them had lost their partners, though for different reasons.

Sedgwick had chosen to sit with the elven noble lady, also in the front row, but on the groom's side. He was in courtly attire without weapons. He wore one ring on each of his hands, and a silver chain at his neck suspended something out of view under his shirt. His short, curly black hair was left to flap about in the mild wind, that did not seem to touch him with frost as it did others in the company. His intent brown eyes flickered about often lingering on an individual with some curiosity. His smile was genial and genuine, and he whispered with Gilleana discreetly. He was a tall man, and while his clothes demonstrated that he wasn't wiry or reedy, he wasn't as built as Steven, but Michelle knew that he was intelligent and very effective as a soldier.

Lady Gilleana had found noble attire that would fit a royal wedding: a silver dress modest and yet ruggedly practical against the wind's predations. She wore a white stole over the dress that went down to her knees and displayed the silver triangle with pearl inlay. Gilleana had a silver jeweled circlet set about her head, almost like a crown yet styled more in a clerical fashion, and decorated with sapphires and emeralds. Her hair, rich walnut in color, fell in waves to the middle of her back, restrained in motion somewhat by the circlet on her head. She was the noble lady and yet she was also the Priestess of Paladine, god no more. Michelle recalled her words to Fandy after the incident at Wayreth: "It is simplicity and complexity." That statement of Gilleana's summarized her attire and yet, to Michelle, it was entirely appropriate.