«Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine…Et lux perpetua luceat ei.

«Tibi, Domine, commendamus animam famuli tui Donal…» O Lord, we commend to Thee the soul of Thy servant Donal, that, having departed from this world, he may live with Thee…

Chapter 21

«He left behind him an avenger against his enemies, and one that shall require kindness to his friends».[22]

Few in Rhemuth Castle slept much in what remained of that night, as scribes began to prepare the letters announcing the king’s death and the crown council began drafting preliminary plans for the late king’s state funeral. The archbishops, retiring to the cathedral, set in motion a succession of Masses for the departed king’s soul and began their own discussions regarding the new king’s coronation. Given the difficulties of winter travel, it was suggested that the ceremony should coincide with Twelfth Night Court, hardly six weeks away, when most of those required at a coronation would already have made plans to journey to Rhemuth. King and council concurred.

That day, while a sleep-deprived new king let himself be swept along with the endless minutiae of taking up the reins of government, deftly guided by Duke Richard, the late king’s body was prepared for burial and laid out in state in the chapel royal, where a rota of Haldane lancers was organized to provide a continuous guard of honor, augmented by additions of knights and other notables.

Meanwhile, the royal apartments were cleared of the late king’s personal belongings, the dowager queen moved to the quarters traditionally reserved for royal widows, adjacent to the royal gardens, and the few personal items belonging to Prince Brion moved into his new lodgings. It was Lord Kenneth Morgan who, that first evening after Donal’s passing, returned to the late king’s apartments privily to deliver certain Haldane regalia into the new king’s keeping.

«Lord Kenneth», Prince Brion said dully, himself answering Kenneth’s tentative rap on his door. The jet-black of his hair and the black of his mourning attire made his pale face appear to hang in midair against the semi-darkness in the chamber beyond.

Kenneth glanced past Brion into the obviously empty reception chamber, then nodded to the boy. Brion had allowed his mother to appropriate the Lorsöli carpet he had received in June, so there was little yet in place to mark the space as his own.

«May I come in, my Liege?» he said quietly.

Not speaking, Brion inclined his head and stepped aside to admit the older man.

«I’ve brought several special bequests from your father», Kenneth said, when the king had closed the door. «They probably would have come to you in time, but he wanted to be certain that you understood the importance of these particular items». He produced a cloth-wrapped bundle from underneath his cloak, about the size of a man’s two fists. «Shall I show you?»

Somewhat taken aback, Brion gestured vaguely toward a small table set before the fire, flanked by two straight-backed chairs with arms. The movement caught firelight in the stones of his father’s ring.

«Please», he murmured, as he moved toward the table, himself settling onto one of the chairs.

«Thank you, Sire». Kenneth set his bundle on the table and took the other chair, then reached into the pouch at his waist to produce a much smaller lump of folded fabric.

«I think this may be the more important of the two items», Kenneth said, unwrapping the lump to disclose the Eye of Rom, glowing like a burning coal in its cocoon of scarlet velvet. «I don’t think I ever saw your father without it, in all the years I served him». He gestured toward the more modest hoop of braided gold wire still affixed in Brion’s right earlobe. «Shall I help you change over?»

Brion’s hand had gone to his ear as Kenneth spoke, and he nodded somewhat dazedly, reaching out with his other hand to not quite touch the Eye of Rom as the older man rose to come to his other side.

«Thank you», the young king whispered, as Kenneth bent to the task of opening the hoop. «It did occur to me, right after he died, that the Eye of Rom now belonged to me. But I thought it might have seemed…well, ghoulish, to just take it from him right then — far different from merely putting on his ring».

«No, you did the right thing», Kenneth said quietly. He removed the hoop and put it in Brion’s hand, then took the Eye of Rom from its nest of velvet and carefully threaded its wire through the royal earlobe. Brion closed his eyes as the deed was done, biting at his lip as Kenneth closed the fastening.

«There, that’s better», Kenneth said. So saying, he returned to his chair to begin unwrapping the larger bundle, containing his smile as the young king exhaled a deep breath and dared to look at him again, gingerly touching his right ear.

«Should I…feel different?» he asked softly.

«I don’t know», Kenneth replied truthfully. «It’s my understanding that my wife will be able to clarify many of the questions I’m sure you must have». He folded back the last layer of fabric in the larger bundle to reveal a wide silver cuff-bracelet engraved with a pattern of running lions with their legs and tails interlaced. «When you speak to her, you’ll want to have this with you. And that Haldane cloak clasp that your father always wore».

Brion nodded, picking up the bracelet to finger it thoughtfully. He was already wearing the cloak clasp, though it was half-hidden in the folds of his fur-lined black cloak. He brushed it with his fingertips, then looked up at Kenneth again.

«They have something to do with my father’s Haldane powers, don’t they?» he said softly.

Kenneth averted his gaze, for he had been forbidden to speak of the matter — in fact, was not able to speak of it.

«I cannot answer that, Sire», he whispered. «Please do not ask me, for both our sakes».

Brion looked questioningly at him, head cocked in consideration. When Kenneth offered nothing more, the king shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

«Very well. I’ll accept that for now». He turned the bracelet in his hands again, then clasped it to his right wrist and sighed. «I can hardly believe that he is gone», he mused aloud, glancing at the dancing flames in the fireplace, then at Kenneth. «Somehow, I never imagined that it would really happen. You will stay by me, won’t you, Sir Kenneth?»

«You have my word, Sire. I shall never abandon you».

«Thank you».

Brion drew another deep, steadying breath, then let it out explosively and sat forward, looking uncomfortable.

«They’ve taken him to the chapel royal to lie in state until the funeral», he said then, not meeting Kenneth’s gaze. «Will you…come with me to pay my respects — now, when there are only the guards and maybe a few family members?»

«Of course, my prince», Kenneth replied.

They had known there would be a guard of honor, partly drawn from the late king’s most faithful retainers, but they had not reckoned on the monks, come up from the cathedral to pray for the king’s peaceful repose. Brion stiffened in the doorway of the chapel with Kenneth at his elbow, taking the measure of what lay at the other end of the chapel’s center aisle besides his father’s body.

The four guards, all battle-arrayed, stood motionless at the corners of the black-draped catafalque on which King Donal lay, their eyes averted, gloved hands resting on the quillons of their naked swords. The body itself was a blur of Haldane crimson, which immediately caught the eye, but even Kenneth could sense the appraising gaze of the monks turning toward them from the shadows beyond the bier, where a dozen of them, white-robed and hooded, knelt with prayer beads dangling from their clasped hands, their prayers a soft murmur that set the chapel a-hum.