The ground shook and rolled for a minute during opening court. Master Renfrew, who'd lived in Dreiburgen before moving to Failte to be with Aloise, said to her, "Whoa! What was in that ale? And do we have more?"
But an earthquake in California is no big deal, unless it does major damage or kills lots of people. After court, the lists were held for Baronial Champion. 21 fighters entered, and the finalists were Crown Prince Armin, Duke Werner the Baron of Dreiburgen, and Duke Pertti Suomainen. First Werner fought Pertti, and Pertti won; then Pertti fought Armin, and Armin won; then Armin fought Werner, and Werner won. Then Pertti said, "You know, guys, this is getting to be a lot like work!"
"You have a better idea?" Werner said.
So Baroness Alison was requested to come to the field, listened, and agreed. Lord AElfrede AElfredsson, Blue Mountain Herald, cried, "My lords and ladies! By gracious leave of Their Excellencies, the Baron and Baroness of Dreiburgen, the post of Champion shall be shared by His Excellency, by His Grace Duke Pertti Suomainen, and by His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Armin von Bergen!"
"WHAT?!!" shouted Taawi. "We didn't fight all those rounds so you slackers could negotiate a settlement! Juho! Yrjö! Are you with me?"
"Damn straight!" said Yrjö, as he and his uncle started putting their armor back on.
"Oh no you don't, Anthony von Sternheim!" Aino scolded. "I saw that look! Don't you even think about fighting before March!"
"Then you put it on!" Anthony said.
"What?"
"Hurry! Take it away! Besides, one of us should get in on this."
So Duke Taawi, Duke Juho, Sir Yrjö, Sir Adam, and Aune stepped out on the field and challenged Duke Pertti, Duke Werner, and Crown Prince Armin. Pertti looked them over, and drawled, "Sure you don't want three or four more?"
"Ha!" said Aino. "If Anthony could fight he'd finish you all by himself!" Anthony covered his face and groaned.
It was a glorious fight.
Calafia Anniversary Tourney was two weeks later, on Saturday, November 4th. The tourney site was a park at the south end of the huge UCSD campus. Everybody in the Barony was there, plus "retired" Calafians who only came to this event (and maybe Leodamas Tourney) each year, plus former Calafians like Werner and Alison, and Anthony, and Laura. Dreiburgen in general was well represented, and Gyldenholt too, recognizing that people from Calafia had started both baronies.
Isabella met Sir David du Lac, the original Calafian who had then joined the Army, started the SGU group in Germany, and was now their Baron. Werner's old college room mate introduced her to his wife, Baroness Gillian, and their little boy, who already knew how to bow and kiss a lady's hand.
She also met Eilonwy, the Baroness of the SGU group in Seoul, Korea. The quiet brown-haired beauty had been followed around by half the men in Calafia, and a number of Northern (i.e., Bay Area) knights who made the trip to San Diego just to see her. Then she'd graduated from college, moved to Korea to teach, and started the group there.
Master Gerald the Studious was pleased to introduce Isabella to his parents, the Baron and Baroness of Adiantum, mundanely known as Eugene, Oregon. They weren't ex-Calafians, but were close friends of Sternheim and Suomainen. Baron Ulfhedinn, a Master of the Laurel, made many of the wrought-iron tent stakes used in the SGU on his forge, as well as many other pieces of fine ironwork; he was a farrier in real life. He had corresponded with Anthony when they were both starting in the College of the Sciences, and their uncountable shared interests had led to a close personal friendship. Baroness Reginleif, his wife, had met House Suomainen on one of the couple's trips to Southern California, and bonded with Maddy and Tina. Her Laurel was for fine jewelry.
There were challenges and melées at Calafia Anniversary, but they seemed almost afterthoughts. Most were too busy catching up with old friends, showing each other photographs, flirting, playing recorders and other instruments in impromptu jam sessions that went on and on, kissing, singing, dancing, playing tug of war, flying kites, running races ...
Mezentius talked to reporters from every newsmag in San Diego, and pointed them at other victims as well. Cameras clicked constantly. Master Harold took some other heralds a few blocks away and taught projection; he could still be heard faintly. Baron Ulfhedinn taught Mezentius' son Thomas how to play tafl. Mistress Jeanette, Mistress Greta, and Baroness Eilonwy sat and talked old times, while the strip of needle lace in Greta's lap grew longer and longer.
At closing court it was announced that Duke Sir Taawi had won the lists and was the Baronial Champion until next year's Anniversary Tourney. "Oh, was there fighting?" Master Anthony said. "Ow," he complained; Aino had stepped on one foot, and Alison on the other.
The baronial officers were called forward, and some resigned and turned over their offices to the replacements they'd trained. Then all the officers renewed their fealty to the Baron and Baroness. Lady Mathilde of Rannoch was no longer an acting Herald, Mistress Deborah's replacement, but the official Trident Herald of the Barony of Calafia.
Mistress Greta was admitted to the Order of Leodamas, having been nominated by vote of the populace at the Leodamas Tourney, and approved by the Baron and Baroness. Baroness Eilonwy, the only other member of the Order who was present, helped Greta don the blue full-circle cape. Then Greta knelt so that Baron Mezentius could slip the collar of silver lion heads over her head, where Zoltan's silverwork could rest on the blue cape, displayed to full advantage.
It was a wonderful day.
Christmas itself was not an SGU event, nor was New Year. House Suomainen got together on December 25 at Bob and Maddy's place and had a family Christmas complete with presents, going to Mass, and coming home hungry (from fasting for Communion) to stuff their faces.
But Isabella went home for Christmas, riding the spaceplane to Berlin and then a regular jet from Berlin to Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia. Rodrigo kissed Greta "goodbye for now" and headed Isabella's security detachment; and Juho accompanied her as well, smiling softly, to meet her parents.
Two weeks they spent in the third capital of Iberia (with Madríd and Lisboa), departing San Diego on Friday, December 22, and returning on Sunday, January 7, 1979 (2732 by the Roman calendar). Juho met the King, and they liked each other; by the end of the two weeks they respected each other as well. He also met the Queen, various Counts, Dukes, Barons, Bishops, Archbishops, and courtiers of every rank and ilk.
The official residence of the King and his family when in Barcelona was the Palau Reial Maior, which had been the Roman governor's residence, then the home of the Visigoth Ataulfo, and then the home of the Kings of Catalonia. Now it was a Gothic building with one tower. The royal flag of Iberia hung on Saint Martin's Tower when the King was there: Quarterly of 6, Castile, León, Barcelona, Portugal, Navarre, and Granada.
Though they made the mandatory excursion to Gaudi's Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Familia, begun in 1882 and still not finished, Juho and Isabella went to Mass in the Cathedral of Barcelona, begun in 1298 and finished in 1890. They also visited Santa Maria del Mar, in the fisherman's quarter, the Barceloneta, and admired the church's fine rose window.
During the days they took a car to Vallvidrera, a village overlooking the city from the Collserola Hills in the West, then visited Montserrat, further west still. Like San Diego, Barcelona was a collection of neighborhoods — the Eixample or city center, the Barri Gòtic or old town center, Gràcia, Les Corts, Sant Gervasi, and others. Many of them had been small towns outside old Barcelona; Sarrià was an example of this.
By motorscooter or sometimes on foot they explored the tourist sights. Juho had seen the Museu Picasso the one other time he'd been in Barcelona, long before; and the civic zoo, while not inferior to San Diego's, didn't eclipse it either. But it was fun to see these things together; or to sit in a bistro (whatever the Catalonian word was) and enjoy bellota, acorn-fed Iberian pig, or kokotxas de bacalao, cod jaw.
They danced at a Christmas ball at the Palau Episcopal, with each other when possible, with others when social laws demanded. Juho exchanged a bow with Juan Carlos and his boyfriend, who seemed to be enjoying their disgrace. The New Year was celebrated at the Palau de la Virreina with a feast, followed by a reception at the Palau de la Generalitat, where the civil servants and bureaucrats laired.
Finally Isabella hugged and kissed her mother, Juho bowed and shook hands with her father, and they left Barcelona. They had two choices how to get back, both tempting. One was to wait a day longer, catch a west-bound spaceplane from Barcelona to San Francisco, then a regular jet to San Diego. The other was to leave right away, and take three spaceplane trips east: Barcelona to Madras, India; Madras to Guam; Guam to Los Angeles, then a short hop by jet to San Diego. To climb three times to the edge of space would almost be worth having to pay three spaceplane fares. But in the end they looked at each other, sighed, and waited a day like the sensible people they were.
Twelfth Night was the medieval New Year, the Feast of the Epiphany at the end of the Christmas season, January 6. In the old SCA Kingdom of the West, the date for the Twelfth Night Coronation Festival was, by Kingdom law, the first Saturday after January 5. Thus the West celebrated Twelfth Night between January 6 and January 12.
An Tir, Caid, and Patria, which had all been part of the West, set their own Twelfth Nights to the second Saturday after January 5th. This moved them further from the Christian feast on which Twelfth Night was based, but allowed people to attend both the Northern (Bay Area) and the local event. Unfortunately, it meant that people in Southern California couldn't attend both Caid's and Patria's Twelfth Night; nor could people from either Caid or Patria go to An Tir Twelfth Night. There was talk about moving Patrian Twelfth Night back to the first Saturday, since the West remained hostile. In 1979, Patria's Twelfth Night was January 13, in Calafia, at the student center at San Diego State.
Court was in Montezuma Hall. It was the place where Isabella came to study, or to read, most often after Love Library. When the library was closed, and her dorm room seemed like a cage (or a cell), she would walk up the wide steps of the student center, past the information booth and the bulletin boards, and sit in the heavily-upholstered chairs. The huge mural showing the rape of the New World by Spanish conquistadors didn't shame her, but fascinated her with its blend of European and Mesoamerican art. Like Picasso's Guernica from the Spanish Civil War, or the Russian and Chinese posters from the World War, it spoke of beastly horror in a way that was strangely beautiful. Isabella would sit, and look at it, and feel her soul shifting in her.
This afternoon the overstuffed furniture was stashed away somewhere else, leaving an empty floor with the royal thrones at one end. It didn't stay empty long. People bowed as the Queen and Prince Consort entered and seated themselves.
"This is the court of Caroline and Martin, Queen and Prince Consort of Patria, and of Armin and Hilda, Crown Prince and Crown Princess; on the Ides of January in the year 2732 since the Founding of Rome!" Master Harold declared, in his indoor voice.
After a few words from Caroline and Martin, Armin and Hilda were crowned King and Queen of Patria, and the people cheered them. Their first business was to make Caroline a Countess, and Martin a Duke, to more cheers. The dukes and duchesses swore fealty to the new monarchs, the counts and countesses, and the barons and baronesses. But when the knights came forward, King Armin stopped the proceedings.
"Hold," he said. "There is one among you whose loyalties are unknown. Sir Adam Dumarest! Before I can accept your fealty, tell me truly: Where are you from?"
"I haven't spoken untruly, Your Majesty," Sir Adam said. "But what does from mean? If I was born in one place, grew up in another, went to High School in a third, am I not 'from' all three places? If a man goes to college in one city, lives in another, and works five days a week in a third, which one is he 'from'? And if he plans to move somewhere else, because a lady who lives there has stolen his heart, will he then be 'from' there?"
Armin nodded, slowly. "I see your point. But a man must have some place that matters most to him, some place he calls home, no matter how he rationalizes and quibbles."
"Must he?" said Adam. "Are you sure? If he was born to a wandering life, if every year or so, the whole time he was a child, his parents moved again? Can't you conceive of a person like that? The refugee camps must have been full of them, just after the War."
"The War was a long time ago," Armin said, "and you're a grown man. Where are you from, sir knight?"
Adam sighed. "Patria," he said. "I was born in Patria, grew up in Patria, schooled in Patria, work in Patria, live in Patria. Patria is the banner I follow, Patria is where my heart is." He gave the King a level look. "I am your man, Your Majesty."
Armin pondered. "I am answered," he said. "Indeed, I am well answered. Take this, Sir Adam, with my thanks."
Sir Adam looked at the brass coin. On one side was Armin's profile, encircled by the words "Arminius Rex Patriae 2732 A.U.C." On the reverse was Hilda's face and "Hilda Regina Patriae 1979 A.D."
Adam closed his hand on the bean. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will treasure this," he said sincerely.
After the knights swore fealty, and the Laurels, Pelicans, and kingdom officers, it was time for gifts and presentations from the populace.
"House Suomainen has gifts for Their Majesties," announced Lady Mathilde of Rannoch, the Trident Herald; Master Harold had asked her to handle court after the official business was over.
Up to the thrones proceeded Duke Pertti and Duchess Marketta; Duke Taawi and Duchess Kristiina; Duke Juho and Countess Esmeralda; Sir Yrjö and Lady Katherine; Master Anthony and Lady Aune; Master Harold and Mistress Deborah. All wore costumes with their personal arms on one side and the Suomainen arms on the other, except for Master Anthony, who displayed his own arms with those of House Sternheim. They bowed in unison.
"Your Majesties," said Pertti. "Knowing that this day would come, as surely as the sun will rise at dawn, my household has labored over a gift for the two of you. It was no easy matter to choose the right token of our esteem. You were sure to be showered with gifts by the adoring populace, and as our regard for you is not ordinary, we wished our gift to be unique."
"Thank you, Your Grace," the King replied. "Your words are a gift themselves."
Pertti bowed, smiling. "Master Harold, if you please?"
Then Harold came forward, knelt before the King, and offered a book, bound in leather, with the Finnish motif called "the arms of St. Mark" embossed on the front.
Armin took the gift, opened it, looked at the title page, flipped through it briefly. The room was completely silent. He laid it tenderly in Hilda's lap, and cleared his throat.
"Truly this is a royal gift," he said. "I pray you, tell the Kingdom what you have given us."
Harold stood, bowed, and faced the populace. "House Suomainen gives to King Armin and Queen Hilda a copy of The Kalevala, the Finnish national epic. The text is in German, translated from Finnish by a member of the House. The book is lettered by hand, illustrated by hand, bound into a book and protected by a wood and leather cover, embossed with a Finnish motif — all by members of the household."
"May you long enjoy it," Pertti said. "It would be pointless to say who was the translator, who the calligrapher, who the book binder, and so forth. Suffice it to say, it is from all of us."
"And I thank you — we thank you all most deeply," Armin said, glancing at Hilda, who smiled and nodded.
Maddy and Tina came forward then, and Maddy said, "There is one thing more. The cameras of the SGU never rest, and they miss nothing. My sister and I want to give you this as well."
Smiling, Armin took the photo album and flipped it open. His amazement grew as he turned the pages. There was every quarrel, every confrontation that had ever been between him and Suomainen. From the past year alone there was him glaring at Pertti at Yrjö's knighting, and the melée between his team and Sternheim-Suomainen. He began to laugh. His stupefied expression when Pertti toasted him as a noble foe was captured perfectly, as was their embrace after his victory in the Lists.
Armin rose from the throne and addressed the populace. "A record!" he shouted, holding up the album. "A record of a man's foolish pride, of his fear of being found wanting, of his envy of another man's large and happy family!"
"Gracious ladies," he said, kissing Marketta's hand, then Kristiina's, "thank you for holding a mirror up to me. Sir Pertti," he said, holding out his hand, "let us be friends."
"With all my heart, Sir Armin," Pertti said, as he shook the King's hand.
While the populace continued to heap gifts upon the new King and Queen, many who'd already done so, or could not or would not, were in the student lounge on the same floor as Montezuma Hall, looking over goods for sale by the merchants. Several meeting rooms on the lower level, on either side of the bowling alley beneath Montezuma Hall, had been claimed by musicians to practice playing for the dancing that would come after the banquet, or by dance masters teaching the dances. In costumes from ancient times to the early Renaissance, SGU members drifted up and down the two sets of stairs that linked the upper and lower floors of the student center, strolled around the atrium at the bottom of the stairs, or walked down the wide stairs at the front to walk hand in hand on the long lawn.
The banquet was held in the cafeteria. King Armin and Queen Hilda sat at the high table, and Baron Mezentius and Baroness Rowena. Their Excellencies' children sat at a small table nearby, looked after by Mistress Helena and Mistress Jeanette. The lighting was turned down by just enough that the candles lit at every table restored full brightness all around them, but left the space between tables just the tiniest bit dark.
Master Ioseph of Kerry strode into the space before the high table and bowed. The bard was dressed all in white and silver. White was his houpelande, the long hem falling almost to the floor, the angel sleeves hanging about his wrists, the fabric covered with embroidered pomegranates the same color, each the size of a hand. The lining of the garment was light gray, and the liripipe on his head was the same color, only a little darker than his hair. His under-robes were a darker gray, and his belt and slippers were black. For color he had the rich brown of his harp, the enamel Laurel medallion that swung when he bowed, and the light blue of his eyes.
He was greeted by a light clapping of applause. Queen Hilda smiled to see him, along with everyone else, and King Armin nodded and said, "Welcome, Master Ioseph."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Ioseph said. For a moment he said nothing more, but his fingers began to stroke a tune from his harp. It was a wistful tune, in a minor key. People grew very silent so as not to miss a note. Duke Pertti, who had heard it twice before, sat straight up. "Oh no," he muttered. Duchess Marketta, now in her seventh month of pregnancy, looked at her husband with inquiring brows.
After one verse without words, Master Ioseph began to sing:
He stopped singing then, though his fingers kept coaxing the strings. Most of the men in the hall were merely puzzled; but many of the women had tears in their eyes. Mistress Greta had fallen weeping on Rodrigo Seturino's chest, who held her and patted her back awkwardly, his face confused.
The harp was silent. Ioseph looked around the room, and said, "My love to you all." Then he bowed deeply to the high table, turned, and strode from the room.
For a moment Pertti sat, indecisive, while the babble of voices rose around him; then he stood up. Taawi and Juho and the others at the table looked at him, and Taawi would have risen, but Pertti gestured for them to remain as they were; hurried to the door, and through it.
Ioseph was already to the front of the Student Center, past the big square atrium on his left and the closed and locked study lounges on his right. But he had to slow, in the floor-length robe, to take the steps down to street level, and so Pertti caught up with him. "Joseph," he called softly.
"Robert," Joseph said, and smiled warmly, if also wearily. "I hoped to avoid this."
"You're worn through and through," Bob said. "I'm sorry. But knowing what that song meant, I couldn't bear to let you go without a last farewell. God be with you, my friend! May He guard you, and guide you, and lift your feet over every obstacle. Or if He will not, may my love do so." And he hugged his old friend.
"Ah, Robert," said Joseph, hugging him back, then releasing him and taking a step back. They both stood at the top of the wide, shallow stairs. In front of them was a scattering of tables for students to eat lunch; to their right the broad lawn, with the Book Store at its far end, and Love Library with lit windows.
"If love could heal me, I would stay," Joseph said. "But it's love that wounds me. Almost a year since my glad girl died, and every day I'm hurt again, in these places she brought me to, by these friends she introduced me to, playing this game she showed me. I must go."
"I know," Bob said. "Someday Maddy will die, and I will suffer the same agonies; or I will die, and my own darling will hurt instead. True lovers can only hope to die together, since they can't live forever."
"It's not the years that age us, but our losses," Joseph agreed. "I was only a boy when my Deborah died, but now I'm an old, old man."
"May you find peace, and your youth again," Bob said. "May you return then, and bring us joy." He kissed the older man on the cheek.
"Be at peace, and find joy in each other. I said, My love to you all, and I meant it," Joseph said. He kissed Pertti on the forehead. "And now I must go, or I'll miss the spaceplane home."
Duke Pertti watched until Master Ioseph got into his little Irish car and drove away, the electric motor utterly silent in the Southern California evening. Then he returned to the revel. His lady wife's unspoken query he didn't answer; unless the way he held her face in his hands, and kissed her, deeply and passionately, were an answer. The tears that leaked from her closed eyes argued that it was.
Most eyes were not on Duke Pertti and Duchess Marketta, but on the procession approaching the high table. Master Harold Godfrey and Mistress Deborah of Glen Garrow led it, followed by Master Anthony von Sternheim and Lady Aune Pätääwäinen, Sir Yrjö Suomainen and Lady Katherine the Modest, Sir Adam Dumarest and Lady Mathilde of Rannoch. All had musical instruments: Harold a tenor krummhorn, Adam a deep-voiced hautbois, the rest soprano recorders. Anthony was dressed as a common peasant; Aune wore gauzy green tights and leotard, with silvery sprinkles all over her body, and tiny gauze wings in the small of her back. The other three pairs were in Twelfth-Night finery, elaborate High Medieval costumes.
These four lords and four ladies bowed before King Armin and Queen Hilda, Baron Mezentius and Baroness Rowena. "If it please Your Majesty," Master Harold said, "we would perform a song."
"Thank you, please do," said the King, looking at Sir Adam warily.
Harold laughed. "Master Anthony and I wrote this song together," he said. "It's called 'All Of Our Days'."
— sang Aino, Jenny, Deborah, and Mathilde, while Anthony, Yrjö, Harold, and Adam accompanied them on their musical instruments.
Aino sank gracefully to her knees and pretended to be playing with something on the ground. Anthony walked around the other players with wide steps, playing his recorder. While the others also played their instruments, Harold sang:
Thunderstruck, Anthony looked at Aino from behind a mimed tree. Not looking at him, she sang:
Harold sang:
Matching action to narration, Anthony leapt out from behind his imaginary tale and caught Aino by the shoulders. But she slipped free and ran a few steps. He made a huge two-armed grab at nothing and looked around wildly, not seeing Aino a couple of feet away, crossing her eyes and making faces at him. Then, cupping her hands on either side of her mouth, as though calling a long way, Aino sang:
Having delivered her taunt, Aino took the recorder from her belt and began to play, while Harold sang:
Anthony walked with bent head, holding it in both hands. While Aino and Deborah played recorder, Yrjö and Jenny, Adam and Mathilde capered behind Anthony, and sang in high, childlike voices:
Then they resumed playing their instruments, as Anthony pretended to build a cage, and Harold sang:
As Aino bent to pick a flower, Anthony slammed an equally imaginary door behind her. She sank to the ground and threw a dainty arm over her brow, singing:
Harold sang:
— while Anthony and Aino acted out the verse. Anthony turned his back, and Aino darted up and behind an imaginary tree. Harold's voice fell low on the word "gone" as Anthony looked around frantically. But Aino sang the word high, and joyous:
Softly Harold sang:
Anthony put something on the ground, knelt there a moment, walked around the musicians; put something on the ground, knelt for a moment, walked around the musicians; while Aino unseen danced a dreamy pantomime of time passing, eyes lidded, arms upraised and weaving.
— sang Harold as the others kept on. The wind, less human than an elf, was even less intelligible.
— mourned Harold. Anthony rose, walked a bit, and opened a door.
Anthony stood amazed, still holding the imaginary door. Aino, hands on her hips, sang to him:
— she sang, walking up to him and placing her hands on his shoulders —
Then Aino, Jenny, Deborah, and Mathilde gathered together, while Anthony, Yrjö, Harold, and Adam formed another group. Harold sang:
Shrugging, Anthony threw out his arms and sang to Yrjö:
All the ladies sang:
Then each man approached his lady, and she took both his hands, and they all sang:
Then, still holding hands, they bowed to the high table, and the applause began.
| Table of Contents | |||||||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |
| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
| 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | Personae | Glossary | |||
| Kingdom Calendar | Royal Succession | SGU Song Book | |||||||
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