Shadowsinger by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

to this consorting?”
    After a pause, she looked at Secca. “Do you, Secca, Lady of Loiseau and Flossbend, enter this consorting of your own free will, without coercing another, and without coercion by any other being, and in joy, hope, and honesty?”
    â€œI do.” Secca felt a lump in her throat, and, somehow, she wished Anna could have been there to see the ceremony, and…somehow…she felt sad that her mentor had never felt able to consort to Lord Jecks.
    â€œDo you, Alcaren of Encora, enter this consorting of your own free will, without coercing another, and without coercion by any other being, and in joy, hope, and honesty?”
    â€œI do.”
    Alya looked to Secca once more. “If you would repeat after me…”
    Secca nodded.
    â€œI, Secca, in the sight and song of the harmonies, offer myself as your consort, forsaking all others. I accept you and no other as my consort for so long as shall the harmonies declare, through all times of trouble, all times of joy, and the times that are neither.”
    â€œAlcaren, if you would repeat after me…”
    Alcaren smiled and squared his shoulders ever so slightly before repeating the words. “I, Alcaren, in the sight and song of the harmonies, offer myself as your consort, forsaking all others. I accept you and no other as my consort for so long as shall the harmonies declare, through all times of trouble, all times of joy, and the times that are neither.”
    After just a moment of silence, Alya raised her left hand, drawing a circle in the air.
    Secca could see the faintest shimmer of a blue orb hanging before the Matriarch for a long instant before Alya again spoke.
    â€œAs Matriarch of Ranuak, I declare you are consorts in body, in spirit, and in harmony.”
    Secca turned toward Alcaren, lifting her head slightly as his arms went around her ever so gently. Their lips met.
    Someone sighed.
    As she and Alcaren embraced and kissed before the Matriarch, Secca could feel a sense of warmth—and peace—flow over them, and she didn’t want the moment to end.

8
    Envaryl, Dumar
    The sharp-faced man in the crimson tunic of the Lord High Counselor of Dumar stands with his back to the low coals in the hearth of the villa’s study. “A cold winter this has been. Few have seen one this chill.”
    The man in gray nods. The two other men, one wearing the uniform of an overcaptain, the other the gold collar insignia that proclaim him an arms commander, do not.
    â€œWe watch, and yet your glass, Elyzar, it shows nothing,” continues the Lord High Counselor.
    â€œThe glass shows what is, Lord Fehern. It does not show what we wish,” replies the sorcerer.
    â€œI do not see why the Sturinnese do not move against us,” offers the arms commander. “The roads are firm. The mud is gone, and yet they advance not. Or so slowly that they might be a giant tortoise.”
    â€œThat may be, Halyt,” says Fehern. “That indeed may be, but they hold all of our lands save this miserable western province. They rode quickly enough in the fall. Now, they do not. Can your glass tell us why, Elyzar?”
    â€œIt can show what happens. It does not show what is in men’s hearts.” The broad-shouldered sorcerer fingers his neatly trimmed and square-cut black beard.
    â€œIt is clear that they wait for something,” states Arms CommanderHalyt. “Could it be that they fear the Liedfuhr will strike them from the north?”
    â€œKestrin won’t do that.” Fehern snorts. “He worries far more about his sister and her daughter. My dear younger brother Eryhal should have consorted with the elder. Then, there would be less support for this Belmar.”
    â€œOne cannot undo what is done, lord,” offers Elyzar unctuously. “One can but take the opportunities offered to change the future.”
    â€œWe can’t do anything about Neserea,” points out Halyt.