Ceridor (Danubian #4)

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ceridor

The madam came up and ladled more stew into our bowls before we could object. Johann sent me a wink and I grinned. She wanted us to enjoy her cooking so maybe we'd stay at the inn longer; it was included in the room and board, so I wasn't going to argue. And truly, with local root vegetables and alpine herbs in the broth, it was quite good.

Johann and I were just finishing our second round when a commotion drew our attention. People stepped into the street and hustled in the same direction, beckoning to others. " Komm! It's starting!"

"What is?" Johann asked a young woman hurrying by.

"The dragon!" she called as she ran away.

Johann looked absolutely bedazzled and I could not help but echo his joy. "Shall we go see what that means?"

He took my hand and we too stepped into the street.

The crowd flowed onto the main thoroughfare like a stream merging with the larger river. Grateful for my height, up ahead I could see the swelling mass of people all dancing and celebrating together, banging pots and pans, jingling bells and beads, calling and laughing and cheering.

Then farther up, I caught sight of it just as Johann tapped my shoulder and pointed. "Look!"

An enormous sky blue dragon made of lightweight fabric bounced over the crowd, compressed like a spring. Rows of dancers beneath it shifted their weight from foot to foot while drummers started up a cadence. As the crowd cheered, the head of the dragon set out. When it got close to us, I was struck by the beautiful color of the fabric against the sinking dusk and the first stars flickering into the evening sky.

A woman in front of the head lit a fire baton and danced, the flames bleeding and stretching in arcs as she twirled. The fire mistress served to keep the crowd well enough back from the head of the dragon, making way for the group carving through the main square like a river.

"I can help!" I heard Johann shout at someone, then suddenly he was given a pole to hold up the dragon's side and the dancer moved to the middle of the dragon where another rod allowed him to push up and lift the dragon's spine even higher. Dancers enlisted adults who were tall and sober enough to take the sides of the dragon while they moved to the middle, shouting instructions on how to get into the rhythm and keep pace with the leaders at the head.

"Ceridor!"

Johann was beaming from under the dragon, the joy bursting out of him as the procession moved through, the crowd following and dancing alongside. I waved and tried to keep up, so happy to see him happy and belonging to something larger than himself.

Then seven dancers came beside the dragon with large lanterns held over their heads, and a stone dropped in my stomach. The rumors and stories had spread, even this far west, and even here in West Danube right up against the Helvetican border, the lanterns gods had presence. Indeed, Johann had reported hearing about the seven lanterns from guests at the Mulberry Inn, well inside East Helvetica. When it came to stories, our borders meant nothing.

Children were given anklets with little bells and thus with their cavorting the cacophony rose to an ecstatic pitch that overtook the participants. Many of the little children had colorful streamers on sticks that they waved in the air. Then as the crowd moved through, the adolescents came in holding paper lanterns on the ends of sticks and suddenly all the sensations made me still.

Fear.

I was feeling fear.

Fear that clenched my chest and cramped my belly. Jet black, stark terror at what all of this could mean for my loved ones. If indeed rumors of the lanterns had reached as far as West Danube and Helvetica's border, then I was already too late. There was nothing I could do to stem this surging tide, a fierce storm that would put a target on poor Wren's back, the guardian of these gods, and even Awariye's, should my apprentice step in to take Wren's place if something terrible were to happen. Even my back, since more and more I'd been quietly deliberating whether I should try to help them bring the power down into manifestation.

And yet Wren, the keeper of the lanterns, was unafraid.

I pictured the fellowship that had gathered in a castle ruin just a month ago and had sworn to reconvene at the summer solstice, after the planting season at the monastery. Wren's eyes had a kaleidoscopic overlay of colors in them, the effects of the power from the lantern gods changing his consciousness. Even Awariye had something similar though not as distinct, a pale flame that glimmered in his eyes sometimes when he'd recalled trying to guide the power down and into the earth by means of bardic hymns and songs dedicated to the Eart Mother.

Then my mind had turned to Ulbrecht, whose gaze rested so lovingly on Wren. The king had shucked his tunic over his head, revealing the message inked into his back— To Him Unconquered —that Wren had asked me to look into. Ulbrecht explained that the late mystic who'd brought the lanterns to these lands had explained that the lanterns would lead to an unconquered warrior who would become a great king.

When Wren and Ulbrecht had first met, the words had leapt out at Wren and sent him into a vision, the message of which he could not discern. Scattered letters, ones he'd hoped would coagulate into the gods' names, but so far had yielded nothing, forced Wren to conclude that maybe it was simply the lanterns drawing him in closer to their power.

I hadn't said this at the time, but I suspected the letters leaping out at Wren to be an activation of sorts. They had surged into him, and thereafter he had become sensitive to the power of the lanterns. Even if the letters themselves never coagulated into combinations that held meaning aside from Ulbrecht's tattoo, just sending Wren into a vision was enough for me to connect those dots.

Johann laughed as the dancers began bouncing the dragon and moving faster, the gigantic serpent undulating and whipping around at a nearly frantic pace within the protective circle of the seven lanterns and guarded out front by the twirling fire dancer. This was the sky god coming in to complete the sacred elements of the daily magical ritual we monks practiced, Air swooping down along the Danube River, leading the sacred lanterns whose fire blessed this earth.

I spoke to the gods I had met at the monastery, who had graciously taken me under their wing and guided me as an eighteen-year-old whose father's betrayal had still tasted so bitter. No one knew whether those listening to our prayers were the same divine Gaulic gods who had been worshipped by the ancient Helveticans for centuries before the Romans came, but they were clearly willing to answer to those blessed names. Even thinking of what happened to the Gauls, the end of their civilization and the mass extermination of their people and future, was tragic enough to shake me out of my fears and put them into a different perspective.

"Please," I whispered under my breath, trying not to beg, but as tears burned my eyes it was hard for my prayer to not become desperate. "Please guide me, blessed gods, in helping this land—the nature here, and its people—to flourish."

I would bravely take my path and allow Johann to take his, even though the thought of Johann following Ulbrecht into battle had me so scared I was shaking.

I would do all that I could to protect Wren and the lantern gods from becoming a target. If word spread that this power that protected Ulbrecht in battle could be stolen, murdering Wren and abducting the lanterns would become foremost in the minds of anyone seeking power.

"I will do what I can to protect this king, and the precious years of peace he has secured," I promised, thinking of both Ulbrecht and my Johann, should my lover regain his kingship.

As the dragon danced through the square and celebrants rushed by me, I took a slow, deep breath, believing that the gods who guided me would bless this path if they chose to. I had made my decision and committed my will to it, and thus would accept the gods' decision regardless of whether it was one that I wanted.

A few more deep breaths pulled me from the intensity pressing in from all sides and instead filled me with the gentle flow of the river to let the cycle begin again. My breath coming in and out at a slow pace, I felt content to let the cards fall how they would, should we endeavor and struggle with all our might and still end up with a tragic fate.

My feet planted in the earth, I felt her never-failing promise to sustain me. More stars lit the night as the lanterns accompanied the dragon into whatever future awaited us. Unknowingly my right palm had pressed against my solar plexus as I'd schooled my breathing, the calm coolness of feeling connected to my higher soul steadying me.

Ulbrecht had said that the lantern gods did not feel good or bad, their presence in his consciousness neither one of affection nor disdain. As gods, perhaps they rose above such things, to a higher magnitude we humans were not privy to know. The High King had said that the old lantern mystic had taught him to feel when these gods were watching, and now Ulbrecht felt them at his back when he fought to defend the borders of these central Danubian plains from invaders. They were watching, and with their gaze on him, Ulbrecht and his men fought with all their might.

I would also.

"Thank you," I whispered, pulling my right palm up from my solar plexus to kiss it, then opening it out as an offering to the night sky. I smiled as some tears fell, so grateful to notice that my fear had left me. Then with gratitude in my heart, I went to go find my lover and the dragon.