CHAPTER 1112: A SONG OF SAFE HARBOR

The High Priest kept his words brief, but whatever he said, the words never reached Jocelynn’s ears. Her eyes were filled with flickering flames that wrapped gently around the closest friend she’d ever had, other than her own sister.

Or perhaps, considering how shallow her relationships had been with the young noblewomen of the Blackwell Court, Eleanor had been the only true friend she’d ever known.

The women she’d called friends at home gathered to celebrate when times were good, and they made a show of consoling each other when misfortune struck. But as Jocelynn stood before the pyre, thinking of the friends she’d left behind, the misfortunes they’d confronted seemed like such trivial things.

A man had presented a courtship gift of silver instead of gold. One friend had been invited to the Duke’s grand ball, but another had been snubbed. The vineyard a friend favored had been caught in a grass fire, and she might never again bring her favorite sweet wines to the gathering of ladies of the court.

They’d held each other close, made a show of comforting and consoling one another, at times competing to offer the best way to cheer up a friend whose heart had been freshly wounded... but compared to the things that Jocelynn and Eleanor had faced together, the troubles the young lady had shared with her friends at home couldn’t be called troubles at all.

Eleanor had held Jocelynn close when she wept for the sister she’d betrayed. She’d risked destroying their friendship by confiding in Master Isabell and asking the other woman to help Jocelynn recognize Owain for the beast that he’d always been.

Eleanor had risked more than their friendship when she healed Jocelynn from the wound left by Bors Lothian’s knife, and she paid a price that couldn’t be measured in silver and gold to keep her lady safe. In the end, that price had been her very life.

And now she was gone.

"... anything you’d like to say, my Lady?" Aubin said softly after he finished reciting the rite for the fallen.

This time, she heard the words, but she had no idea how to respond to them. Not with everyone watching her.

She knew what she should do. She was both the highest ranking member of the nobility present, and she was Eleanor’s only blood kin in the whole of Lothian City. She should step forward, she should say a few words... Whether they were to bid Eleanor goodbye, or to encourage her people to remember Eleanor’s sacrifice, she should at least say something.

But despite opening and closing her mouth several times, no words made it past the tightness of her throat. How could she explain to all these people just how far Eleanor had gone to ensure that her younger cousin survived the torture of a madman?

How could she encourage her people to see the light when she could feel her own heart turning toward the dark, filled with pain and hatred and a desperate thirst to see Percivus suffer and die for what he had done to them?

In the end, it was Albyn, once again, who came to her rescue, filling the air with a voice so deep, so mournfully low, that it felt like it called out from the ocean depths.

"To Blackwell Bay,

At end of day,

We turn our sails and bows..."

As soon as the sailor started singing, the words of the song did what nothing else could, and on the second verse, Jocelynn added her voice, frail and weak as it was, to the captain’s song.

"The sun sinks low,

And so we’ll go,

To lay our crewman down..."

Jocelynn wasn’t the only one who added her voice to the song. By the time the third verse began, everyone in the courtyard had raised their voices in song as they mourned not only for the fallen Confessor, but for Lady Ashlynn as well, and the young lady from Blackwell who they refused to let cry alone.

"In waters deep

Your bones will sleep,

No more to drift and roam..."

The sounds of their voices grew even stronger, drowning out the howling wind and clattering hail as a deep yearning for the shelter and safety of their home land filled their hearts.

"We’ll hoist a few,

And drink to you,

While we sing of days gone by..."

At the back of the courtyard, several of the Sisters of Light and the acolytes who had built the pyre shifted nervously, uncertain whether this hymn was one that should be sung on the hallowed grounds of the Temple. A single gesture from High Priest Aubin, however, was enough to quiet their whispers and still their agitated fidgeting.

This moment belonged to the people who were mourning, and as far as Aubin was concerned, the Church had no business imposing itself on people who were facing their struggle with grief and loss. What mattered is that these people had come together to support each other in song... The Church might want them to select a sacred hymn for the task, but Aubin only cared that it lifted their spirits and kept them from falling into the depths of despair.

"So here we’ll stay,

In Blackwell Bay,

And call this harbor home..."

"Thank you, everyone," Jocelynn said, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked around the courtyard, seeing so many faces that were as sorrowful and tear-stained as her own. Faces that had become familiar over the long months she’d spent away from home, helping to anchor her in this moment. And, more importantly, reminding her that there were many lives besides her own who would be affected if she chose to throw everything away in an attempt to avenge herself by assaulting the abbey in Maeril.

She was still tempted to raise an army and lay siege to the town, but as her eyes fell on one of the newcomers in the courtyard, she realized that she might never have the chance.

Owain had sent Albyn to set her free, and she’d managed to bring Eleanor to the temple to say goodbye. But now, she found herself meeting the gaze of one of Bors Lothian’s most loyal knights, a man who had taken the delusional marquis’s side when Bors accused Jocelynn and Eleanor of witchcraft and impersonating Lord Bors’ late wife.

"Sir Gilander," Jocelynn said, holding the fur cloak tightly closed, as if to shield herself from the aging knight’s gaze. "Please, don’t tell me that you’ve come to disturb my cousin’s rest..."