Chapter Seven: Another Wedding

September, 460 HE

A lot could change in a fifteen-year span, Cythera knew. Even more in twenty. Had anyone asked her, twenty years ago, if she would ever be happily married, her answer would have been “no”. Of course, it was because her answer would have been tied so very closely to the answer Raoul would have given to the same question.

It was amusing, delighting, even refreshing to know how wrong she would have been on both counts.

Originally Raoul was going to wait before he and Buri married. He wanted to be in Corus, in a time of peace. But Buri’s practicality won in the end--marrying was more important during the lull of war. They couldn’t be sure that either of them would make it home, after all.

For a makeshift military wedding, Cythera found it beautiful. Then again, she found every wedding to be a sacred and lovely affair. She could be a ridiculously sentimental creature at times.

She rested one hand on her youngest son’s shoulder; the other nestled in her husband’s hand. Young Gareth, Raoul’s godsson, was leaning forward eagerly. Cythera could not tell if he was excited about the Mithran priest’s oration, or the two cats who were fighting near the infirmary. Gary, on the other hand, was studying Raoul intently.

Cythera suspected he was looking for any signs of uncertainty or fear on Raoul’s face: was it a genuine, slightly lopsided smile? Were his eyes crinkling with joy?

“He rolled to the balls of his feet,” Gary murmured. “He does that when he’s delighted.”

Cythera leaned against him, sighing with relief. While she knew in her heart that this was the best thing for Raoul, a tiny part of her suspected that his fears of change and commitment might lead him astray. But her husband was right: as Buri gave her affirmation of love, Raoul rocked from his heels to the balls of his feet as subtly as a giant. Across the crude chapel she could see Alanna grinning with Raoul’s former squire. Had any of them seen him this gleeful before?

The ceremony continued with Raoul’s affirmation, followed by the priest and priestess’s final prayers. Raoul beamed at the final “so mote it be” before sweeping Buri into his arms for a deep kiss. The scores of men from the Third Company cheered with gusto.

“He’s happy,” Cythera said with a smile, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s silly of me to cry, since all I’ve ever wanted was to see him....”

“Like he was before?” Gary asked, his voice low. Cythera knew that, like her, he took the blame for the changes in Raoul over the last fifteen years.

She nodded. “But I think he’s happier than he ever was before.” She looked back at the altar. Buri had a joyous--albeit teary--queen clinging to her, and Raoul was searching through the crowd. The moment his eyes met Cythera’s, he charged forward.

Cythera and Gary were near the back of the crowd, so it took an effort for Raoul to wade through the soldiers. When he finally reached them, they were both pulled into a crushing bear hug and let go only so Raoul could hoist his five-year-old godsson onto his shoulders.

“Congratulations,” said Gary with a wide smile.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” Raoul replied. His voice was serious and his eyes were intense. “I owe you a thousand apologies, but I find it a lot easier to say one thank you.” He turned back to look at Buri, his eyes shining. He continued to speak to them without tearing his gaze from his wife. “Without you two, I wouldn’t have known where to begin with Buri. And I certainly wouldn’t’ve ended up here, with Mithros and the entire army watching me abandon my bachelordom.”

Cythera touched his arm lightly and his eyes snapped back to her. “I’m so glad you’ve found someone so perfect for you,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat. “May Mithros and the Goddess bless you both.” She kissed his cheek.

Gary, she knew, was touched beyond words. He simply smiled and gave Raoul a firm one-armed hug, murmuring something that could have been “gods bless”.

The three of them said nothing for a long moment; Raoul broke the silence, pointing out that he’d been married five minutes and had already abandoned his wife to the queen’s clutches.

“I’ll rescue her,” Cythera laughed as she wiped at her eyes. “If there’s one wedding gift Buri can appreciate, it will be my ability to distract Thayet.”

She crossed the hall to deal with the overjoyed queen, pausing to look back and send her husband a smile. He was standing with some of the other knights, his hands resting on little Gareth’s shoulders, and looking more at ease than he had in years. His eyes met hers, and she felt the familiar thumping in her heart that only he could cause. She thought about Raoul’s words. Yes, they had all needed their first love, if only to help them recognize the right one.

The End