The Summer's King Read Online Free

send down beams of light upon the dark gold, the round emeralds, the yellow diamonds that encrust these treasures.
    For a few moments only Sharn feels the cap of leather slip onto his head and the immense weight of the crown. It is a weight too great for Queen Aidris to bear even for a short time, and Lingrit, her chancellor, supports the crown upon her head. Then the crowns are upheld a second time and carried away. Two other favored personages, Iliane Seyl and Sabeth of Zerrah, both beautiful women, come forward and set simple diadems of gold and pearls upon the heads of the Daindru. At last the king and the queen sit down upon the double throne, holding their swords of office. Aidris Am Firn carries a silver bough for her office as Lady of the Groves, just as the king bears a silver dipper as Lord of the Wells.
    The cheers and shouting rise to a thunderous climax that seems to shake the hall; the king and the queen smile and nod to their subjects. Sharn can see very clearly in memory two men seated stiffly upon the throne as he sits now: his father, Esher Am Zor, and Racha Am Firn, father of Aidris. The Daindru has prevailed: they reign in Achamar as they have done for a thousand years. There are tears of joy still among the citizens as there were at the coronation two years past. A kedran with a strong sweet voice, below the dais, begins to sing the last verse of a battle song, an anthem for the restoration of the Daindru, and the whole multitude take up the strain:
    Far off, far off in Achamar
    The fires are lit,
    The king and queen have come home,
    O let me live till that moon!
    The ceremony lasts six hours. The closest advisors of the queen and the king have worked hard to cut it to this length. The Daindru are no longer forced to remain before their subjects for ten, twelve, twenty hours at a time, eating and sleeping on the double throne with only a gold screen hiding them now and then so that they might answer calls of nature. Queen Charis Am Firn, grandmother of the present queen, almost gave birth before the Dainmut on one occasion, and at another meeting her co-ruler, King Vavar Am Zor, was seized by a fit of apoplexy.
    Even now, with hourly pauses, brief forays to the robing room, Sharn Am Zor is tormented by the ceremony. Aidris talks to him, they smile, they listen to the loyal addresses, accept oaths of fealty, name officeholders. More than two hours after noon, a trio of lesser lords from the town of Winnstrand on the Danmar are permitted to read a loyal address. They are liegemen of Sharn Am Zor, for the town lies within one of his personal feoffs. After the usual expression of love and fealty, the third lord appeals to the king. On behalf of his fellow lords he urges the king to marry and secure the succession of the Zor.
    Sharn is furious. After enduring the discomfort of the long meeting, now he is harassed by these presumptuous fools. Aidris, seeing his handsome face dark as a thundercloud, clasps his hand firmly on the throne bench.
    â€œHold firm!” she whispers.
    â€œCurse them!” he says aloud.
    He leaps to his feet before the loyal address is done and speaks in a voice taut with anger. “Good lords of Winnstrand, I see you are all old men. You cannot earn the respect due to your grey beards if you do not respect your king and liege. I will marry when it pleases me. My sister, Princess Merilla Am Zor, is my heir, and my brother, Prince Carel, is in good health, too. Do not think that because I am your king I can be commanded in any matter!”
    Aidris quickly rises, and she too is inwardly cursing the clumsy lords of Winnstrand.
    â€œSharn Am Zor is my co-ruler and my dear cousin,” she says firmly. “If it please the lords of Winnstrand and any other lords or citizens who presume to consider the matter of the king’s marriage: I will advise the king. I will find out and set forth for him the names and estates of any maidens fit to be honored as his wife!”
    There