Her thanks filled his heart and face with joy. When she tried to kiss him again on the cheek, he turned so that his lips met hers. She returned it tenfold, confident that her life with this kind and wonderful man would be more than tolerable. Far more.
Pondering the scene on the ride back to her home, Meralda's emotions took a downward swing as her thoughts shifted back to the baby and the lie she would have to tell for the rest of her days. How much more awful her actions seemed now! Meralda believed she was guilty of nothing more than poor judgment, but the reality would make it much more than that, would elevate her errant longing for one night of love to the status of treason.
And so it was with fear and hope and joy combined that Meralda stepped into the garden early the next morning to where every one of Auckney's nobles and important witnesses, her own family, Lord Feringal's sister and Steward Temigast included, stood smiling and staring at her. There was Liam Woodgate dressed in his finery, holding the door and beaming from ear to ear, and at the opposite end of the garden from her stood High Watcher Kalorc Risten, a more senior priest of Helm, Feringal's chosen god, in his shining armor and plumed, open-faced helmet.
What a day and what a setting for such an event! Priscilla had replaced her summer flowers with autumn-blooming mums, kaphts, and marigolds, and though they weren't as brilliant as the previous batch, the woman had supplemented their hues with bright banners. It had rained before the dawn, but the clouds had flown, leaving a clean smell in the air. Puddles atop the low wall and droplets on petals caught the morning sunlight in a sparkling display. Even the wind off the ocean smelled clean this day.
Meralda's mood brightened. About to be married, she couldn't be vulnerable any longer. She was not afraid of anything more than tripping over her own feet as she made her way to the ceremonial stand, a small podium bedecked on top by a war gauntlet and with a tapestry depicting a blue eye set on its front. That confidence was only bolstered when Meralda looked upon the shining face of her mother, for Kalorc Risten's young assistant had, indeed, worked a miracle upon the woman. Meralda had feared that her mother would not be healthy enough to attend the ceremony, but now her face was aglow, her eyes sparkling with health she had not enjoyed in years.
Beaming herself, all fears about her secret put away, the young woman began her walk to the podium. She didn't trip. Far from it. Those watching thought Meralda seemed to float along the garden path, the perfect bride, and if she was a bit thicker in the middle, they all believed it a sign that the young woman was at last eating well.
Standing beside the prefect, Meralda turned to watch Lord Feringal's entrance. He stepped out in his full Auckney Castle Guard Commander's uniform, a shining suit of mail crossed in gold brocade, a plumed helmet on his head, and a great sword belted to his hip. Many in the crowd gasped, women tittered, and Meralda thought again that her union with the man might not be such a bad thing. How handsome Feringal seemed to her, even more so now because she knew the truth of his gentle heart. His dashing soldiery outfit was little more than show, but he did cut a grand and impressive figure.
All smiles, Feringal joined her beside the High Watcher. The clergyman began the ceremony, solemnly appointing all gathered as witnesses to the sacred joining. Meralda focused her gaze not on Lord Feringal but on her family. She scarcely heard Kalorc Risten as he preached through the ceremony. At one point she was given a chalice of wine to sip, then to hand to Lord Feringal.
The birds were singing around them, the flowers were spectacular, the couple handsome and happy-it was the wedding that all the women of Auckney envied. Everyone not in attendance at the ceremony was invited to greet the couple afterward outside the castle's front gate. To those of lesser fortune, the spectacle evoked vicarious pleasure. Except from one person.
"Meralda!»
The cry cut the morning air and sent a flock of gulls rushing out from the cliffs east of the castle. All eyes turned toward the voice from high on a cliff. There stood a lone figure, the unmistakable, saggy-shouldered silhouette of Jaka Sculi.
"Meralda!" the foolish young man cried again, as if the name had been torn from his heart.
Meralda looked to her parents, to her fretting father, then to the face of her soon-to-be husband.
"Who is that?" Lord Feringal asked in obvious agitation.
Meralda sputtered and shook her head, her expression one of honest disgust. "A fool," she finally managed to say.
"You cannot marry Lord Feringal! Run away with me, I beg you, Meralda!" Jaka took a step precariously close to edge of the cliff.
Lord Feringal, and everyone else, it seemed, stared hard at Meralda.
"A childhood friendship," she explained hastily. "A fool, I tell you, a little boy, and nothing to be concerned with." Seeing that her words were having little effect, she put her hand on Feringal's forearm and moved very close. "I'm here to marry you because we found a love I never dreamed possible," she said, trying desperately to reassure him.
"Meralda! " Jaka wailed.
Lord Feringal scowled up at the cliff. "Someone shut the fool up," he demanded. He looked to High Watcher Risten. "Drop a globe of silence on his foolish head."
"Too far," Risten replied, shaking his head, though in truth, he hadn't even prepared such a spell.
At the other end of the garden, Steward Temigast feared where this interruption could lead, so he hustled guards off to silence the loudmouthed young man.
Like Temigast, Meralda was truly afraid, wondering how stupid Jaka would prove to be. Would the idiot say something that could cost Meralda the wedding, that might cost them both their reputations and perhaps their very lives?
"Run away with me, Meralda," Jaka yelled. "I am your true love."
"Who is that bastard?" Lord Feringal demanded again, past agitated.
"A field worker who thinks he is in love with me," she whispered while the crowd watched the couple. Meralda recognized the danger here, the volatile fires simmering in Feringal's eyes. She looked at him directly and stated flatly, without room for debate, "If you and I were not to be married, if we hadn't found love together, I'd still have nothing to do with that fool."
Lord Feringal stared at her a while longer, but he couldn't stay angry after hearing Meralda's honest assessment.
"Shall I continue, my lord?" High Watcher Risten asked.
Lord Feringal held up his hand. "When the fool is dragged away," he replied.
"Meralda! If you do not come out to me, I shall throw myself to the rocks below!" Jaka yelled suddenly, and he stepped forward to the rim of the cliff.
Several people in the garden gasped, but not Meralda. She stood eyeing Jaka coldly, so angry that she cared little if the fool went through with his threat, because she was certain he wouldn't. He hadn't the courage to kill himself. He wanted only to torture and humiliate her publicly to show up Lord Feringal. This was petty revenge, not love.
"Hold!" cried a guard, fast approaching Jaka on the cliff.
The young man spun around at the call, but as he did so his foot slipped out from under him, dropping him to his belly. He clawed with his hands but slid farther out so that he was hanging in air from the chest down, a hundred-foot drop to jagged rocks below him.
The guard lunged for him, but he was too late.
"Meralda! " came Jaka's last cry, a desperate, wailing howl as he dropped from sight.
Stunned as she was by the sudden, dramatic turn, Meralda was torn between disbelieving grief for Jaka and awareness that Feringal's scrutinizing gaze was upon her, watching and measuring her every reaction. She immediately understood that any failure on her part now would be held against her when the truth of her condition became evident.