A MIRROR MORE DARKLY
CHAP 1
WEDDING OF THE KING
The last of the wedding fireworks exploded in a bright array of multi-coloured sparks over the tall, pale towers of King Galedhil's palace. Crowds roared and cheered in the square as the King and his new bride, Heurodis the Golden departed the great cathedral and seated themselves in the wedding carriage, drawn by ten white steeds with plumes on their harness. Waving at their subjects, they were carried along the town streets, past leaning timber framed merchants houses and gabled halls festooned in banners, until they reached the drawbridge that split the moat that surrounded the palace.
Guards shuffled along the walls, yanking on chains and gears and slowly the Great Bridge creaked down into place, its timbers polished to a sheen. The carriage rolled over it, to accompanying cheers, and from the lighted windows above doves were released and hundreds of rose petals poured like rich red rain.
Once inside the main courtyard, the footmen gathered to prepare for the disembarkment of the king and his new bride. The king emerged first from the carriage, the spires his gold and sapphire crown gleaming on his greying dark hair; a warm kindly smile on his careworn bearded face. He lifted a hand and all the castlefolk shouted 'Long live our king!" Galedhil was a kindly ruler and well loved by his people, and he had suffered greatly in the past year when his first wife, the gentle lady Elomar, had died giving birth to their child. However, as kings must, he had chosen a new Queen when the mourning period had ended, and joy would soon return to the palace--or so all of his closest counsellors and friends hoped.
There was a pause, a hush in the air, as the king's new bride hovered inside the carriage. Queen Heurodis had come from a far country to the east and was said to be the most beautiful lady alive. The courtiers were anxious to see, for Elomar had been a beauty too, dark haired and fair skinned with eyes that matched a wintry sky, and it was difficult to imagine she could be matched.
Slowly a golden shoe was extended from the carriage and hovered, waiting above the gilded steps a footman had brought. "Oh silly me, an old man has forgotten his manners!" said Galedhil in a teasing voice and he turned back to hand his new bride down from the carriage.
There was a gasp as she daintily stepped upon the hay-strewn cobbles of the courtyard. She was indeed a goddess, and as different from their former queen as the day differs from night. She was a few inches taller than the king, who was only a man of middling height, and her hair was the colour of burnished bronze, falling in ringlets down to her tiny, nipped in waist. Bronze too was her skin, unlike the pale northern ladies, and her tilted, dark-fringed eyes were amber, shot through with streaks of pale green. She was like a bronze statue of some primeval goddess brought to life.
Heurodis smile as she heard the collective sign of indrawn breath around her. She was used to such noises when she walked amongst men, but it was always good to hear, especially as she was coming to the realm of Horningwold as second wife.
Still smiling, she let her new husband lead her into the palace. Inside, they walked down a corridor of white marble trees adorned with tiny crystal leaves that glinted in the torchlight. Her quick eyes darted, taking it all in-the velvet draped walls behind, the gold traceries, the murals painted on the ceiling. Her father's advisors had told her Galedhil was wealthy and it seemed they were not lying. It would certainly help to make her life a bit more pleasant with a man old enough to be her father, though Galedhil was not unpleasant to behold by any means.
"Now, my dear," the King was saying, "I will show you to your quarters, I trust you will find them to your liking. Your trunks of clothes, jewels and furniture has arrived and is being set up even as we speak."
