Saga of Menyoral: The Service by M.A. Ray Page B

the top. A woodpile stood next to it, arranged for a bonfire and ready for the lighting. Vandis took out the packet of charcoal.
    He took a deep, steadying breath, and She sent a thrill down to his toes. I can’t wait to smell what you have for Me this year.
    It’s not like You don’t already know , he told Her with another smile, laying the black bricks out in the dish.
    Well, I suppose I do, but knowing it and smelling it are two different things!
    When he looked up, there was Dingus, holding a brand, the flame translucent in the fading daylight. “Thanks,” he said, taking it. Dingus nodded and went back to sit in a clump with all Evan’s, Pearl’s, and Santo’s people.
    For You, Vandis thought, and lit the charcoal. As the gray swept across the black, Vandis stuck the brand in the gravel so it would stand up and pulled out his packet of incense, spreading it on the ground and opening each of the little pouches inside so they were ready.
    He stood and tossed a handful of sandalwood onto the glowing coals. Sharp, clean-smelling smoke poured from the burner and curled skyward. Oh, I like that one, good start, She said. Quiet blanketed the beach, and Vandis cleared his throat.
    “Now hear this!” he called, not shouting, but projecting so that his voice rang off the valley walls. The sandalwood began to burn itself out. “For over three thousand years, the Knights of the Air have gathered at Longday, to test our young people and to eat and drink in fellowship with one another. This year, our numbers are smaller than they have been in two centuries, but that’s no reason to knuckle under. Through bad times and good times, our Lady tells us to learn from the past so there’s hope for the future, and just now that’s more important than ever. Let’s have a minute of silence for the faces we won’t see this year.” While the silence stretched, Vandis threw chunks of cedar and knots of pine sap and myrrh onto the coals. She hummed quiet approbation, but She didn’t distract him.
    “Lady, remember our dead, who died in Your service,” he said. Next, once the death incense burned out, was the sage. “Lady, let all that we do, here and everywhere, be of savor to You.” Then the beads of frankincense: “Lady, remember and guard our Squires. Let them be dear to Your heart as they are to ours.” Last of all, Vandis put on a big handful of dried patchouli. The smoke exploded, yellow-white against the dusk. “Lady, remember and guide Your Knights, that we might ever serve You in this world.”
    Always, She promised.
    Vandis waited for the last of the patchoul i to drift skyward, then turned to take up the brand. “Enough! Let’s eat!” He thrust the brand into the waiting woodpile and the kindling caught, to a cheer from the assembled Knights. The Moot was officially open.
    They all moved toward the food as one creature—all but Dingus, who stood on the beach with his hands in his pockets. “Thought you’d be first in line,” Vandis said. Dingus shrugged and fell into step with him. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
    “It ’s all right.”
    “So who’ve you been hanging around with?” Vandis asked, as if he didn’t know.
    “ Wallace and Tony. Francine, some.”
    “See? I told you not everyone would be an asshole.”
    “There’s a couple.”
    “There’s always at least one,” Vandis admitted.
    “I guess there’s got to be.”
    “When I was a kid, I think it was me. I beat the living shit out of Reed my first year—did I tell you that?”
    Dingus’s mouth turned up at the corners as they got in line for the food. “I guess you were the asshole,” he said, and then frowned. “Did you get in trouble?”
    “Only with Old Man Dingus,” Vandis said. “Why?”
    Skinny shoulders rose and fell. “Just wondering.”
    “Did you beat the shit out of someone?”
    “No,” Dingus said after a moment.
    “I’ll take your word for it,” Vandis said.
    Dingus kicked at a pebble. His feet were