The Chronicle

of the month of Setheran in the year 140

Midsummer day was, thank the Gods, bright and sunny, with not even a breeze to disturb the masses of flowers and the dripping marsh plants that someone had managed to weave into the canopy. These last were hurriedly cleared away before trumpets announced the first of the important guests in a long procession from the Citadel. The settling of the invited guests into the stands took most of the morning, although the Tourney Fields themselves had been packed since before dawn. Finally the bridegroom appeared and, to a curious mixture of cheers and whistles from the crowd, took his place on the platform.

Shortly before Midday the approaching deafening cheer marked the progress of the Royal family through the crowd. The King and the Princess joined Duke Alexander on the platform where everyone could admire the Princess' elegant dress of silver silk, and its long, long train which took attendants at least five minutes to pack onto the platform. This at least gave the noise a chance to die down before the King started to speak. His formal announcement of the marriage was slightly marred by the sounds of a continuing party at the edge of the crowd. Surprisingly, full silence was achieved when the King asked for any objections to the marriage, although he was resting his hand lightly on his sword hilt at the time.

The lull continued as the bride and groom spoke their vows, and the King pronounced the ancient binding:

"This bond I draw between you; that though you are parted in mind or in body, there will be a call in the core of you, one to another, that nothing, no one else will answer to. By the secrets of earth and water, this bond is woven, unbreakable, irrevocable; by the law that created fire and wind this call is set in you, in life and beyond life."

"Now," said the King. "Give your names to each other."

"Alexander."

"Eleanor."

The crowd erupted into cheers once again while the young couple shared the ceremonial cup of wine, and the recognised High Priests stepped up to add their blessings. The end of the blessing was the general signal for most of the assembled throng to start a party and to unwrap numerous picnic bundles. The official guests had a far hungrier and more restless time as the bride and groom were now posed for the official portrait. An hour later the Duke finally extracted himself from his wife's train and led the Royal party back to the Citadel for the banquet. The by now ravenous official guests followed with more haste than dignity, and left the site to the souvenir hunters. Much later that afternoon well-wishers lined Wheat Hill, Moot Way and Temple Hill for the Princess and Duke's departure through the city. Her Highness wore an elaborate gown, beautifully embroidered with summer flowers. Her husband, by contrast, had opted for simple peasants garb. The wisdom of this became clear around Dowgate where, in addition to the showers of rose petals, two ripe tomatoes hit him squarely in the back. With this tasteless reminder, the couple rode out of the city and on to the King's hunting lodge some miles upriver, where they and their escort of 100 heavy cavalry spent the night.

The cost of cleaning up the city after the recent celebrations is causing some concern to George Rimon, the Chair of the Treasury. It seems that the city's coffers have not yet recovered from the King's earlier tax, and the loss of the summer fair has also been noticeable. The Chroniclers trust that any further taxes will be as light as possible, and that Lord Courtney will make significant personal donations to alleviate this problem.

The first contested sheriff elections for many years turned out to be hard-fought. The votes eventually split almost evenly, with only a few votes separating the candidates. The final results were;

Samantha Cox 8 votes Kennet Maxil 7 votes Alan Griffiths 6 votes

Sheriffs Cox and Maxil were then sworn in, and nominations are now open for the Aldermanship of Oldgate. Over in Welland, the co-option of Carl Marc onto the Wardmoot has been prevented by Cllr Gillian How of Shambles. Councillor How wishes to contest this post and a by-election has been called for the end of the month.

As many citizens will already be aware, Linrodeth's bridge has been closed this month for emergency repairs. The Guild of Watermen are confident that they can cope with the increase in custom caused by this and by the influx of visitors for the wedding. As Guildmaster Spittle told the Chroniclers "Queues for our boats are waiting no more than five minutes longer than usual, so I urge citizens to have a modicum of patience and not to recklessly trust themselves to these unskilled, amateur boatmen who have neither guild training nor our many years of experience." Fortunately for the city, the recent wave of crime on the river seems to have died down. No more than the usual number of missing people have been reported this month.

An outbreak of nausea and sweating in the ward of Portsoken is being investigated by the Torian Temple, despite Alderman Worton's claim that it was only caused "by all the excitement of the occasion." Physickian Maelenun Cassida criticised Nicholas Worton's comment saying that it showed "a disturbing lack of understanding of the problem". Worryingly, old Armundus Septer has recently been looking far more frail than usual, and has cancelled several engagements due to 'ill-health'. Readers will remember that Reg Marc resigned last month for similar reasons. Fears that the illness may be spreading throughout the city have encouraged many citizens to depart to the countryside for the remainder of the summer.

Although Olnorth Dexter's faction suffered an unexpected defeat in the Midsummer elections, the man himself seems to be happy with the wealthy Lady Elspeth consoling him. The two have been painting the town red in recent weeks, and Alderman Andrews has become a rather less frequent visitor to the Dexter mansion.