Ella felt she was losing control of events. Her whole life there was always something she could do, some path she could take. Just this morning she’d had a plan. Now what should she do? She was even being warned not to ask about what happened to Lady Katherine.
She should go home and stop wondering. The funeral would be tomorrow, and Lady Katherine deserved something special. Whatever had happened, it was none of her business.
"Whatever happened to the High Lord’s wife, I’m going to stay quiet," Fergus said, echoing her thoughts. "I promise you that." He pulled up at a narrow pier and helped Ella disembark, refusing her money. "Young lady, I would advise you to do the same."
~
IT was the morning of the funeral, and the last day of enrolments at the Academy of Enchanters. As the sky grew lighter, the clouds parted, and the sun burst over the horizon. Alturan funerals were always held early, when the Lord of the Sky touched the world with his majestic palette. Rather than death being an end of things, it was a beginning.
Townsfolk gathered on the banks of the Sarsen, walking in singles and pairs, groups and families. Their mood was sombre — children stayed close to their parents, and husbands and wives held hands. Many of the men had doffed their hats, and the women carried green branches. From the variety of clothing and badges it was clear that every kind of resident was represented, from craftsmen to lords, farmers to priests.
They lined both sides of the river, and crowded on Sarostar’s closest bridges. At the appointed hour a clear note sounded, and the shining walls of the Crystal Palace lit up with colours of emerald. In the palace grounds the fountains burst their boundaries to rise ever higher, and the crowd gasped at the fleeting beauty of the moment.
Tied at a small pier and hidden from the townsfolk, a stately barge of pale wood bobbed on the water. Ella touched a finger to her flower arrangement. There, it was perfect.
The palace guards had been reluctant to let Ella through, but one of them had convinced his fellows to relent. The young woman with the beautiful flowers just wanted to leave something special for Lady Katherine. It would be cruel to turn her away.
Looking at the barge, Ella thought about the woman who would soon be placed among the flowers, ready to drift down the Sarsen on her final journey. Again and again she remembered the conversation from two years before. Why had Lady Katherine said goodbye to her that day? What had really happened?
The sound of voices broke the stillness of the setting, and Ella suddenly had a strong feeling that she didn’t belong here, coupled with an urge to flee. The sound of two men talking grew louder. Ella desperately looked around for somewhere to hide. She heard footsteps and the rustle of clothing, and in a flurry Ella climbed onto the barge and hid under a rail.
Ella’s heart raced in her chest and her breath came short. What was she thinking? If the guards caught her here they wouldn’t just be angry, they would see it as a violation, and she would be severely punished. Terrified of any sound she might make, she put her hand in front of her mouth to quiet her breathing. She peeked out from her hiding place through a crack — hopefully the men were just passing through.
A man was looking right at her, only paces away! No, he was looking at the barge. He wasn’t a guard either, he was a noble, that much was certain, with a patrician nose and tailored dark clothing to suit the occasion. He was old, but not as old as Uncle Brandon, and he looked sad.
A second man had his back to her but then he turned, and suddenly Ella couldn’t look away. This man was smaller, and his features were lined with age. His hair stuck out in tufts and a green ceremonial cloak covered his clothing, the Alturan raj hada — a sword and flower — prominent on the breast. An immense collar framed his head. It was the High Lord Tessolar.
Ella felt an overwhelming longing to run, even if it meant them seeing her for the briefest instant. She didn’t belong here.
Then the man in dark clothing spoke, "’Tis better this way. I know that isn’t what you want to hear right now, but it is better for you, and better for Altura."
Ella froze.
Tessolar sighed, "I suppose you’re right, Devon."
"We would have had to put Katherine on trial. The people would have been devastated."
Ella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Trial? For what?
"Why, Devon? Why did she do it?" Tessolar clenched his hands into fists.
"I cannot say," Devon said, shaking his head.
"She was not happy, no, don’t tell me otherwise, I know. There was little love between us," said Tessolar. "But this?"
"I don’t know what I can say, High Lord. At least let it be finished, here, today."
Tessolar nodded decisively. "Promise me, Devon. Promise me this will stay secret between us. I want her remembered by the people the way she was."
Ella’s cramped foot was growing numb. She moved slightly and brushed against a piece of wood holding a latch propped open. The latch began to swing closed but she placed her foot in the way, and instead it crashed onto her foot.