Through the Darkness

Up at the head of the hall, an assistant to the burgomaster of Skrunda stood waiting, dressed in colorful baggy tunic and trousers from the days between the overthrow of the Kaunian Empire and the rise of the kingdom of Jelgava. For a few hundred years, Skrunda, like most of the towns of the Jelgavan peninsula, had been a power in its own right. The tradition lingered in ceremony, though nowhere else.

Traku murmured, “I’m glad the Algarvians don’t send their officials to do weddings and such.”

“So am I,” Talsu answered. “I wouldn’t really feel married if a redhead said the words over Gailisa and me.”

“Well, come on.” Traku took him by the elbow. “We’ve got to be waiting up there when your bride approaches--if she approaches.” He grinned at Talsu. “She’s got the right to call the whole thing off, you know.”

“So she does.” Talsu refused to let his father rattle him any more than he was already. Instead, he teased back: “And you’d be stuck with the bills for the feast.”

“Oh, I’d probably have a thing or two to say to her father about that,” Traku said. “Step lively now, son. We’ve got people to impress.”

Talsu didn’t know whether he stepped lively or not. He imagined himself on parade in dress uniform, and marched as impressively as he could. The men in the audience who’d been in the army--most of them, odds were--would surely recognize what he was doing. But nobody laughed at him, which was all that mattered in his eyes. A lot of them had probably gone up to wait for their brides at exactly the same slow march tempo.

After bowing to the burgomaster’s assistant, Talsu did a neat about-turn and stood waiting for Gailisa. Every once in a while, a bride didn’t come up and pledge herself with a prospective groom. People gossiped about scandals like those for months. Often, jilted grooms had to move away. Talsu was sure no such thing would happen here. He was sure, but. . .

He couldn’t help letting out a small sigh of relief when, escorted by her doughy father, Gailisa walked toward him in tunic and trousers of grass-green linen that made her golden hair shine like the sun. He also couldn’t help glancing toward the cousin who’d given him a hard time and who, at the moment, looked consumed with jealousy. That was exactly what Talsu wanted to see.

When Gailisa came before the burgomaster’s assistant, she bowed as Talsu had done. Then she turned to her bridegroom. She and Talsu bowed to each other. Then she bowed to Traku while Talsu bowed to her father, who went very red returning the courtesy.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate in public what has been agreed upon in private, the wedding of Talsu and Gailisa,” the burgomaster’s assistant intoned. For all the excitement he showed, he might have been made of clockwork. Talsu wondered how many times he’d said these words. “For the town must recognize this union to make it true and binding. And the town is pleased to do so, confident that the two of you will live many happy years together and bring up many children who will be a delight to Skrunda and an asset to the Kingdom of Jelgava.”

What Kingdom of Jelgava? Talsu wondered. Mainardo’s kingdom, under the thumb of the Algarvians who set Mezentio’s brother on the throne? The words that solemnized the wedding neither asked nor answered any such awkward questions. That was probably just as well.

“By the power vested in me as representative of the independent community of Skrunda, I have the authority to make this wedding both true and legal, so long as that be the wish of those entering into it,” the burgomaster’s assistant said. The independent community of Skrunda had been a joke before the war; with Algarvian occupation, it was a worse joke, and a sadder one, now. Somehow, that didn’t matter. “Is it your wish, separately and conjointly?” the burgomaster’s assistant asked.

“Aye,” Talsu and Gailisa said together. Traku and the burgomaster’s assistant might have heard them. Talsu doubted anyone else did.

But that didn’t matter, either. The burgomaster’s assistant spoke loud enough for them both: “It is accomplished!” Everyone in the hall cheered. Talsu took Gailisa in his arms and planted a decorous kiss on her mouth. The cheering got louder. Several people shouted bawdy advice. At any other time, Talsu would have been furious. Now, he grinned at Gailisa. She smiled back. Was she waiting as eagerly as he was? He hoped so.

They had a while to wait. They ate and drank and danced and accepted money for luck (and to set up housekeeping on their own) and congratulations. All the men in the crowd wanted to kiss Gailisa, and none of the women seemed to mind if Talsu wanted to kiss them. He had an enjoyable time indeed.

The best advice came from his father: “Don’t get too drunk, boy. Tonight of all nights, you don’t want to fall asleep early.”