Something Wild (Child of the Winter Moon Book 1)

41: The Wake

The Islanders at Kaer Trolde gathered around the docks and a platform normally used as a lookout over the bay. Erimon, the leaders of the Druids in Skellige, stood there, along with three women, an old man, and Crach. The dark-haired woman in a dark red dress stood quietly, wiping away tears. Beside her, a younger woman with red hair in a green and gold dress wept. Erimon addressed the crowd who had come to see off their king.

"Our time amongst the living is but the wink of an eye," he said. "What's left when we are gone? How shall we be remembered? Will they speak of us with respect? Or disdain? Bran was a great man. We shall remember him as a hero."

Pallbearers passed by at that moment carrying the late king, a soldier tailing behind with Bran's shield. They laid him in a longboat docked there before stepping off and picking up oars to cast off the ship. The red-haired woman turned and started to walk towards the stairs of the platform. Erimon stopped her and they conversed a moment before she continued on her way. The woman boarded the ship and knelt next to Bran. Juray realized this was one of his wives as she laid her head on his chest. The pallbearers pushed the ship off and a smaller boat guided it towards the strait that led to the sea. Juray glanced up and noticed Erimon glaring a hole into the dark-haired woman's back. Crach lit a single arrow before aiming and releasing it. It sailed in a perfect arch before hitting the ship. As the ship began to burn, a single horn sounded to send off Bran and his wife to the afterlife.

"You look beautiful," a gruff voice said and both Yennefer and Juray turned their heads to their left to see Geralt had finally shown. Juray was relieved he survived.

Yennefer gave a smile, looking at Geralt. "Thank you," she said. "Nice to see you again." She looked back up at the platform. "The eulogy."

"King Bran of Clan Tuirseach has embarked on his final voyage," Erimon said. "At its end, our glorious ancestors await him. Together, they will hunt and raid. They will sit 'round the fire and praise the deeds of ages past. For now, he lives in our hearts. One day, we too shall stand at his side and face the sea together. That will be a good day."

"You knew Bran?" Geralt asked.

"Yes. He was well respected. Unlike his wife."

Crach then addressed the crowd. "Skellige is its clans. In times of war, tradition holds the clans unite under the leadership of their king. We've bid Bran farewell. Time to pick his successor, who will lead us against the Black Ones. The gates of Kaer Trolde stand open to all who held Bran of Clan Tuirseach dear. Meat and mead will be plentiful. During the wake, those who believe themselves worthy of the crown will step forth."

"Come to the wake with me?" Geralt asked Yennefer.

"Gladly. Feasts in Skellige, so predictable. Slobbering drunks, brazen boasting, and the inevitable rows that result..."

"Sounds like a typical Thursday at Kaer Morhen," Juray commented.

"Usually the inevitable row involves you and Lambert," Geralt said.

"Then you know which one of us is the boasting, slobbering drunk."

Geralt gave a small laugh for addressing Yennefer again. "Nothing like the banquets mages attend. Remember the one on Thanned?"

"You were there, how could I forget? I also remember excruciatingly well what happened after the banquet." Yennefer gave a smile and Geralt gave a slight smirk.

"Reading my mind again?"

"Mhm." Yennefer looked at him. "What's more, I like what I see."