Empire of Ashes

Chapter XCVII - Widow's Wedding

Yes, I know this is late. I'm not even sorry because it's so loooong. Could I have split it? Yes. But am I cramming everything into these last few chapters just so I'll have exactly 1oo story parts when this is over? Damn straight.

Warning: This chapter contains references to self-harm and sexual assault which some readers may find upsetting. If this is likely to affect you, please think carefully before continuing. You can PM me for a chapter summary.

I took an experimental step onto the scree and felt it crunching and shifting beneath my feet. It was safe as long as I didn't venture too close to the cliff base, Fendur had told me, but I could put one foot wrong and tumble down the slope. No, it wouldn't kill me, but it would strip the skin from my elbows and knees, I reckoned. The fragments of slate were sharp as knives.

"Take your time," Sami advised us. "Don't forget — you are choosing your gravestone."

I nodded absently. It had taken us two hours to get here, so I was going to damn well take my time about choosing. There was no rush to get home. The horses were picketed with enough grass to last them the afternoon, and we had no engagements until the wedding, which would be late evening at the earliest.

"Not too much time," Anlai muttered from behind her. He had come along at Fendur's insistence to play at being Iyrak, but he had yet to do anything except complain and flirt with his wife.

Melia gave a little shriek and fell onto her hands and knees. I picked my way across the scree to reach her, and then I helped her stand again. Her palms were grazed, but she seemed unharmed otherwise.

Anlai had taken a voluntary step towards us. "Are you alright?"

He was trying to sound indifferent, but I could see enough tension in his shoulders to rival a drawn bow. I wondered when he'd started falling in love with her. It seemed strange that I had missed it, given that I had spent the entirety of the last moon with them.

But perhaps there was no defining moment. perhaps it was not a cliff edge to tumble over. Perhaps it was a gentle, rolling hill. It would be hard to know you were climbing at all until you stopped and looked down.

"Yes, I think so," she sighed. "But I don't understand why ... this is necessary."

For me it was. I had to be a member of the warband to become Valkyr, and for that I needed a slate, so here we were. Melia had come along for moral support, as best I could tell.

"Why don't you sit down?" I asked her. "It's safer that way."

She nodded, and I helped her settle on her arse. I sat down beside her, if only because I wanted to save some of my energy for the ride back. I was noticing that everything seemed to tire me faster than it had used to, and it was hard to tell whether my body or my mind was at fault.

We carried on searching from our seats. My fingernails were cracked and bleeding by the time I settled on the darkest piece of slate I could find. It was a little smaller than Tem's had been and jagged around the edges. Melia's, by contrast, was a very pale shade of grey and smooth as a pebble.

We went down onto the beach to carve them. All five of us laid our cloaks on the sand and made ourselves thoroughly comfortable. Apparently, it was not a quick process.

"Gods, it's hot," Sami said eventually. "I'm going swimming. Anyone want to join me?"

Of course she was overheating. She was in her armour, as were the men, and I could see the sweat soaking through their tunics. It was a necessary evil, I was told — we were a long way from the corps and there was a bay nearby where the Sihons liked to come ashore.