Chapter 1 -Parade-

     There she was, the beautiful woman whom Sej was one day going to marry. Or at least he hoped he would.
     He always found her here on the balcony, staring out into the crowd of busy peasants and merchants down in the market square. Staring. Watching. Waiting. But for what? Sej thought. Is it that she spends her mornings in the clerical library pouring over old historical records? Maybe this has caused her to want to understand the behavior of people. But why the lower-class peasants? Is she intrigued by them, or disturbed?
     She truly is a mystery to me. Sej thought.
     “That’s nice of you Sej,” she had once said when Sej handed her a dark velvet rose two weeks ago. She didn’t even say “thank you.” She gave her wry smile then, one that left Sej second-guessing himself for the past several days. Over and over again he had pondered what she meant by this. But at the same time she has constantly been around him. Talking with him. Smiling at him. Sej could have sworn to have caught her in the act of staring at him twice before.
     Women. Why must they be so confusing? He thought. But today will be different. Today is the day I will find out for sure.
     He took a step forward, only to notice that he was still in the same spot he was a moment ago. He tried again, but to no avail. He clenched his fists, crushing the tightly rolled poem in his right hand. It took Sej four whole nights of writing and rewriting this poem, and now he can’t move even a single step closer to give it to her.
     Is it the beautiful sunrise accentuating her golden brown hair and smooth cheeks? Or perhaps it is the aroma of her daisy garden that has incapacitated Sej’s whole being.
     He gazed at his legs in disbelief. They were shaking. But from what? I have led warriors into the chaos battle. He thought. And yet, I am unable to talk to a single woman?
     He stood there for what seemed to be several minutes. Hoping. Hoping that something would snap him out of his daze. No. No. He didn’t want something outside of his control to help him. He couldn’t stand that another coincidence would awake his being into action. No, he hoped that he would conquer his fear, alone.
     But he couldn’t.
     The woman began to turn her head. Sej quickly snapped around, afraid that her gaze would recognize him as the coward that he is. Or maybe he did want her to recognize him so as to end this turmoil. No, he needed to help. Today was the day.
     Sej took a deep breath. He walked out towards the far edge of the balcony, away to her right. If he couldn’t walk in a straight line towards her, he might as well curve around and flank her. He stood there gazing out into the plaza. Finally the noise of the crowd reached his ears, or at least he finally noticed it. The buzz of morning life was exhilarating.
     The merchants were bellowing out their daily goods. Peasants and servants weaving in and out of the crowd with armfuls of produce. The lords and ladies were gossiping as usual. They knew the line of command, or the social order of things, here in Nanok. Most people did.
     Today was the day of abundance. A day long celebrated by the founders of Nanok. The day that the clergy believed to be when the gods gave life to the earth. And what the clergy says, goes. They were at the head of the social order and they knew it. But, Nanok was different than the other neighboring kingdoms. The people love, no, they worship their leaders.
     The clergy has never led the nation astray.
     Sej managed to glance at her. She had turned around, talking with the horse breeder. But he was not wearing his usual brown, dirt-encrusted apron. He had a formal dress tunic with bright silver trims. His hair wasn’t tangled, but flattened. What is he doing here, formally dressed? And why is he talking to her? She knows his status. Most people knew their position, but he did not.
     “I can’t stop think’n about last night, Yani. It was …” his voice was drowned out by Sej’s sharp thoughts. How can he even dare to call her by her informal name, Yani? Who does he think he is?
     Sej’s face quickly became hot. He was so close to her and now some peasant was taking his spot. And how was this boy was with her last night?
     She smiled and giggled. Such a beautiful smile.
     “Thank you. You are too kind.” Her voice echoed with a sweet ring behind it. Was she flirting with him?
     His face turned red like a turnip as he fidgeted with his hands behind his back. He shifted back and forth from one leg to the other. He was nervous. And he should be; he has no chance with the daughter of the third mayor.
     “Can I … invite you to anoth’r dinner?” he was stuttering now.
     She smiled again and shifted in her stance. She looked away from him only to catch Sej staring right back at her. Sej cursed inside himself and quickly turned back out towards the marketplace.
     Once again another outside occurrence will steal his personal victory from his own grasp. She was now, of a surety, going to walk up to him and start the conversation. The plan was failing, like it always did.
     She quietly finished her ordeal with the horse breeder and shuffled her way to be by Sej’s side. Not saying a word she gazed out into the crowd. The familiar and intoxicating smell of her daisy garden reached his nose. Sej’s heart skipped a beat.
     “It looks as though the clergy has prepared yet another parade.” Sej silently commented. He nodded his head towards the northern entrance to the plaza where the crowd of people began forming two lines on both sides of the street. Once again, another occurrence outside of Sej’s control.
     “So it seems” her voice was low, matching Sej’s tone.
     The clergy loved to show their control over the city with their periodic parades and manifestations of important prophecies. They often times became monotonous, but nonetheless the clergy did prophesy the future of Nanok and therefore deserve the respect of the people.
     Yani leaned on the railing brushing up against Sej’s shoulder. Instinctively Sej shifted his arm out of touch. His breathing quickened. Is this another one of her tricks?
     A trumpet sounded. Tall white royal stallions trotted into view from the entrance. Their riders were wearing the clerical robes of dark purple with gold trim. Each one carried a banner on a tall spear. They tried to appear like the cavalry of the military, but their shiny armor and unspotted robes failed to match the battle-worn soldiers’ grandeur.
     “I wonder what the clergy want now.” Sej bit his lip. Small talk. He hated having to revert to small talk.
     She shrugged as if she didn’t know. But she knew. Sej was sure of it. With all those hours in the clerical library she was bound to know the proceedings of the clergy.
     “My guess is that this is the funeral parade of the late priest Hedik.”
     “Hmm.” Sej tried to sound interested.
     The parade continued, halting all commerce in the square. The banner carriers were followed by a group of priests, or clerics, or soothsayers. Sej could never differentiate between the classes of the clergy. But then again there were only four priests in Nanok; so, they couldn’t be priests.
     “What happened to the priest?” Sej asked, “I mean, how did he pass away?”
     She turned to face the parade. She must have been looking at Sej for a while now.
     “He passed away in his sleep. I suppose it was his time to be taken by the gods.”
     “Now, what is the clergy going to do? Have they already found a new priest?”
     “They do not simply find a priest.” She slumped and turned to face Sej. “Priests are the most holy of the clergy and therefore need to be chosen by the gods through the high priest himself.”
Was she irritated? Sej couldn’t tell. He kept his gaze out on the procession.
     “The gods must have chosen a priest by now.” She paused, admiration on her face. She really does believe in the gods.
     The crowd grew silent. A single trumpet was sounding the tune of passing. Some onlookers had tears in their eyes. Six soldiers clad in white uniforms bore on their shoulders a casket trimmed with intricate golden designs.
     Several women surrounded the casket with their wailings and mourning. They must have been concubines to the deceased priest. Only the priests of the clergy were authorized by the gods to have more than one wife. Some men coveted this, while others were thankful to not be a part of the clergy for that very same reason.
     Sej glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was mouthing the words to something. Probably a clerical poem or ballad. A tear silently glided down her cheek. He wanted to put an arm around her, dry her tear, or comfort her. But he did not know as to why she wept. Besides what good would it do?
     The song of passing stopped. A man on horseback trotted forward from the entrance behind the casket. He stopped his horse and wheeled around to position his arm in the rear direction.
     “Behold ye citizens of Nanok!” His voice bellowed out in a sweet musical tone. “Behold the Priests of the Gods!” Another trumpet sounded their triumphant approach.
     Three elderly men riding on white royal stallions came into view. Each one wore a golden band around his head, matching the elaborate golden designs on their robes. They were majestic. Sej was unable to describe them otherwise.
     About two score of royal guards on foot came with the priests. They outlined the square forcing the crowd to back away from the center of the square.
     The priests led their horses to the center of the square and halted. Turning their horses around each other they broke out in verse,
     “Jied jon ghol sliyett” the ancient language always appeared to be sung instead of spoken. Sej never understood why the priests spoke in the ancient tongue. They knew the common tongue, but refused to use it.
     “Sun and moon” an interpreter stood by the side. He tried to interpret during the small pauses in the music of the ancient language.
     “Sethtalli jor jien kihliay”
     “Flower and fire,”
     “Hedik-iah sept jien Atariesh”
     “Priest Hedik rest ye with thine gods,”
     “Dejei koloptka sethtalli, festali jeriik Jied,”
     “A new flower blooms, and the sun rises yet again.”
     “Atariesh sha fienelik ta Sedori-ha.”
     “The gods have chosen thee, priest Sedori.”
     “Ta fiesk fo dieskah prokij jor Nanok seik na Atariesh.”
     “May ye prophesy prosperity in Nanok with the guidance of the gods.”
     The priests ceased their circular and ritual motion and faced the entrance extending their arms forward. The crowd turned in unison to see the new figure at the north entrance.
     A dark-haired man in the purple priestly robes sat upon his horse. His jaw was rounded near his ears, but then jutted outward into a sharp pointed knife. His eyebrows were brought close together in a tight line. His dark green eyes seemed to glow from within. His lips curved slightly upward in one corner. It was a smirk. Or was he trying to smile but couldn’t?
     The new priest raised his hand in a simple salute to the crowd. Everyone bowed his or her head out of respect. The priest, Sedori, strode forward to the center of the square to join the other three priests. The guards closed in on the four and the procession continued on down the road toward the next square.
     Sej stood there staring blankly now into the crowd unwilling to talk. Shame was the last thing he wanted. The last time they talked, he made himself look like a fool; Sej forgot her full name of Kira-Yani and stumbled throughout the whole conversation. He was not going to let that happen this time.
     “What is that, Sej?” She was pointing at Sej’s poem tightly gripped in his right hand. He retracted the poem behind himself, embarrassed.
     “Oh this.” He turned to face her only to find her smiling at him. This wasn’t the wry smile he had seen her give him before. It was sweet. A smile that Sej could look at for days. “well, it is nothing. Just a piece of parchment.”
     “I doubt that. You would not hide it if it were just a piece of parchment.”
     Sej handed the poem to her. Why did he have to crumple the parchment earlier? It was now a ruined poem. He snarled within himself.
     She will never take me seriously again. He thought. First I fail to remember her full name. Now I give her an absurd poem crumpled to a pulp.
     “Here, it is for you.” A smile escaped Sej’s lips. He turned to leave.
     “Wait.” She placed her hand on his shoulder.
     “I need to make sure that my servant has bought what I asked him to.” He turned only his head,
     “Goodbye, Kira-Yani.”
     “Oh,” Her smile faded, no it transformed into that wry smile again, with one corner lifted higher than the other. She let go of his shoulder. “Goodbye Sej-Yed.”
     He turned and, as quickly as he dared, he left. Another failure. She even used his full name in mockery of his use of her full name. He hastily headed toward the tavern. A pint of ale will settle his troubles, as it always has.