They’d been warned that it was customary for the groom to recite his name, titles, and lineage at this time, though it was not, of course, usually expected of the bride.
“Matthew Patrick Reddy,” Matt answered in a voice that surprised him with its firmness. “Captain of the United States Ship Walker, High Chief of the American Clan, and Commander in Chief, by acclamation, of all Allied Military Forces united beneath the Banner of the Trees.” He paused, remembering to add the lineage part, and continued proudly; “I’m the son of former Chief Quartermaster’s Mate Donald Vernon Reddy, recipient of the highest military honor for bravery that my birth nation can bestow. He’s now a cattleman-a large landholder-in the great state of Texas, U.S. of A.!”
He heard murmuring to his right in response to his revelation. It sounded like Kutas asking Gray what Matt’s dad had done. He suppressed a head shake. How on earth do they think I got in the Academy?
“Sandra Cayce Tucker,” Sandra interjected before the bishop could proceed. She spoke a little softly at first, but with growing strength. “Nurse Lieutenant and Minister of Medicine for Adar, High Chief and Sky Priest of Baalkpan and Chairman of the Grand Alliance. I’m the daughter of Malcom C. Tucker, ah, Norfolk industrialist, in the great state of Virginia, United States of America.”
The congregation murmured, but Bishop Todd cleared his throat.
“And who giveth this woman to be wed?” he demanded.
Silva straightened. “Me!” he boomed. “Chief Gunner’s Mate Dennis Silva of the United States Ship Walker, DD rate, number one-sixty-three! Famous slayer o’ Japs, Griks, Doms, super lizards, mountain fish, an’ various other dangerous critters, includin’ a Dom Blood Cardinal I spattered at most of a quarter mile! Protector o’ women an’ small princesses, an’ rescuer o’ same! I’m the son o’ Stanley an’ Willa Silva, who was actually married when I was born but passed on soon after, God rest ’em, an’ I hail from Alabama-also in the U.S. of A!”
The bishop was taken aback and Gray muttered something, but Matt supposed it could have been far worse.
“And do you swear before God that this woman is here seeking the solemnization of matrimony of her own free will, and has no just impediment, nor moral or legal obligation that might entangle, complicate, or prohibit the honorable estate she seeks?”
“Ah… yes, sir. I swear,” Silva replied with less exuberance. “If all that means what I think it does.”
Matt saw Sandra roll her eyes.
The bishop paused, again perhaps taken aback by the unorthodox reply. “Then I entreat this congregation to bear witness that this man and this woman have entered this house and the sight of God to be joined together in holy matrimony, an institution created by God in the time of man’s innocency, which signifies the mystical union betwixt Christ and his Church, and which He adorned and beautified with His presence. With that understanding, it must be admonished that this estate be not enterprised lightly or wantonly solely to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites like brute beasts, with no understanding, but reverently, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God, duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained.
“First of these is the lawful procreation of unobligated children, to be reared in the fear of the Lord and to praise His holy name.
“Secondly, as a remedy against sin and fornication and other base temptations of the flesh, so that those who enter into this, the greatest of obligations, might keep themselves undefiled members of Christ’s body, and righteous members of His Church.
“Thirdly, for the mutual society, help, and comfort that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity.
“Only through due obedience to God’s matrimonial decrees may those who are scattered, and children begotten in the lonely places of this savage world, remain servants of the Lord, and not degrade themselves until they become unknown to Him.”
Matt was struck-vaguely-by the many similarities as well as differences to other wedding ceremonies he’d witnessed. He supposed-vaguely again-that the differences were mostly rooted in the odd society the Empire had created as far as women were concerned, but at that moment it really didn’t matter to him-except insofar as how damn long the thing was taking! They both answered in the affirmative at the end of the long, familiar, if somewhat archaic vows, and Matt duly, somewhat ironically, noted the extra-heavy emphasis on service and obedience that Sandra agreed to. He honestly wasn’t entirely sure what “plight thee my troth” meant, but a plight was like a predicament… wasn’t it?
Spanky stood next to Matt as his best man, and at the appropriate moment, he fished in his pocket for the ring: a simple golden band traditional for all Imperial weddings. It was growing increasingly hot in the still, unventilated cathedral, and the ring suddenly squirted from Spanky’s fingers just as he triumphantly produced it.
“Goddammit!” he muttered, instantly flushing red as the ring hit Sandra’s dress. Instead of being captured in the shapeless folds, it fell and struck the floor with a tiny chink and rolled away down the aisle. Silva stomped on it before it could escape completely, and Spanky quickly retrieved it and stuck it in Matt’s hand. Matt then laid the ring on the large, leather-bound Bible on the altar, as he’d been instructed, and the bishop held it up before passing it back to him. That’s when Matt turned to put it on Sandra’s finger. Her eyes were… chuckling, either at Spanky’s embarrassment or Matt’s grim, nervous expression, and Matt felt his own grin return as he repeated what the bishop told him to say.
“With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship.” There was nothing about “worldly goods” in Imperial ceremonies, but Matt didn’t have anything to offer but his ship. “So help me God,” he almost whispered. They both knelt then, and Bishop Todd held his hands out over their heads.
“O eternal God, creator and preserver of all mankind, giver of spiritual grace and author of everlasting life: send thy blessings through Christ our Lord upon this man and this woman, whom we bless in thy name. May they ever remain in perfect love and peace together. Amen.”
There was more, but regardless of how interesting or even beautiful it might have been, from that point on, Matt and Sandra might as well have knelt there all alone, as far as they were concerned. Only later, after all was done and the choir had been singing again for some time, did it suddenly occur to Matt that the song was “Eternal Father, Strong to Save.” He didn’t know how old the “official” Navy hymn was, but doubted it was old enough that the Imperials would know it. He was touched by the gesture, both on the part of their hosts and whoever had thought to give them the words and music. He hoped he could somehow reflect the words into a prayer of his own as he looked into Sandra’s eyes-not only for himself and this woman he loved, but for Walker and her crew and all those she’d lost.
“O, Trinity of love and power, our brethren shield in danger’s hour.
From rock and tempest, fire and foe, protect them wheresoe’er they go.
Oh hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea.”
CHAPTER 7
Zanzibar
Sovereign Nest of the Jaaph Hunters
General of the Sea Hisashi Kurokawa, former captain of the lost Japanese Imperial Navy battle cruiser Amagi, almost chortled with glee as his new personal yacht, the double-ended paddle steamer Tatsuta, backed her paddles and crept up to the dock. He knew General Esshk was wildly jealous of the vessel. But, then, General Esshk is in a poor position to complain just now. Isn’t he? Kurokawa thought with smug amusement. Esshk had hitched his fortunes to a waning star, and after the catastrophic losses in airships during the recent raid on the enemy fleet and bases, all in a desperate gamble to save Regent Tsalka’s precious Ceylon, Esshk’s “star,” had been slowly, painfully snuffed.
A quick, high-pitched giggle did escape then. An irony was that Ceylon had already fallen by the time Tsalka’s mission took place, but Tsalka had promised his life in exchange for the stupid, wasteful attempt to salvage his regency, and Kurokawa had “sadly insisted” that he must pay his own set price for failure. He’d argued vigorously against the gesture, as he’d described it. The airships should have been held back until they could accompany his new Grand Fleet into battle, thereby ensuring complete and total victory. Tsalka’s selfish insistence was what cost so many machines, trained crews, and time to replace them. For that, if for no other reason, he had to be held to his pledge! Now Tsalka was dead-having wagered against the Traitor’s Death! — and with him had vanished yet another obstacle to Kurokawa’s ultimate scheme.