Then, speaking very
low and as quickly as he might for all his life was draining from him
through the red wound in his side, the old priest spoke the hallowed
words that bound these two together till death should part them. Yes,
there by the graveside, over the body of the dead Acour, there in the
red light of the morning, amidst the lonely snows, was celebrated the
strangest marriage the world has ever seen. In nature's church it was
celebrated, with the grim, grey Archer for a clerk, and Death's own
fearful minister for congregation.
It was done and with uplifted, trembling hands Sir Andrew blessed them
both--them and the fruit of their bodies which was to be. He blessed
them in the name of the all-seeing God he served. He bade them put aside
their grief for those whom they had lost. Soon, he said, their short
day done, the lost would be found again, made glorious, and with
them himself, who, loving them both on earth, would love them through
eternity.
Then, while their eyes grew blind with tears, and even the fierce archer
turned aside his face, Sir Andrew staggered to where he stood who in the
Land of Sunrise had been called Gateway of the Gods. Before him he bent
his grey and ancient head.
"O thou who dwellest here below to do the will of heaven, to thee I come
as once thou badest me," he said, and was silent.
Murgh let his eyes rest on him.
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