Free The Hidden Land by PAMELA DEAN Page A

although he did not raise it. “We are foregathered to bid farewell to William, Celia and Conrad’s son, who hath served, befriended, and loved us these fifty years.”
    “Fifty-two,” said Ellen in Laura’s ear.
    Fence moved from beside her to stand with Randolph. Laura kept her eyes determinedly from his robe. Randolph asked him a question; he answered it with a short speech; Randolph asked him another; he answered it briefly.
    Laura gaped at them. She could not understand a word they were saying, and yet she almost did. It was like a conversation to which she was not paying attention; if she stopped reading and listened, she would be able to understand perfectly. Their voices held a ritual intonation which made it obvious that this was the ceremony, and not some consultation about details. The rain fell down their faces.
    “What’re they saying?” whispered Ellen. Laura shrugged, and looked across the grave at Ted and Patrick. Patrick’s face was perplexed, and Ted’s resigned. Laura glanced around at Ruth, who was frowning. Everybody else was listening with a serious face; Laura could tell from an occasional nod or grimace or smile that the real inhabitants of the Secret Country had no trouble following the service.
    After perhaps fifteen minutes of this, during which a number of people began blinking and sniffling, and Laura watched Ted and Patrick fidget, Randolph bowed to Fence and stepped back. Fence, in his fantastic robe, knelt on the sodden ground and picked up a handful of mud.
    “In the tradition of John, by the mercy granted to Shan, in accordance with the laws of the Hidden Land,” he said, and slapped the mud onto the gorgeous top of the coffin.
    Laura watched him stand up, half expecting the mud to roll off his robe as if the robe were made of some new miracle fabric. But it was stained and wet, and remained so; and a fugitive gleam from a star half-muddied caught and held her eye. She saw Ted’s face, covered with blood, as she had seen it before. But this time the view was wider; Ted lay on the bare and dusty ground with a great blot of blood across his chest, and Randolph knelt over him with a despairing expression. Behind them the sky was hot and empty. Laura’s gaze jerked involuntarily to the real Randolph, who had come forward to hand Fence a bunch of flowers. When she looked back at the robe it was only a robe.
    “What’s the matter?” hissed Ellen.
    “Just a minute,” said Laura, staring hopefully at the stars. Nothing happened.
    Randolph made a gesture with his hand, and Benjamin came out of the crowd. His eyes were red, but his face was impassive. He looked around the crowd for a moment, and finally took Ted by the arm and drew him over to Randolph. Randolph touched Fence on the arm, and Fence shook his head. Randolph jerked his head at Conrad. Fence went back to stand by Patrick, and the four others, Randolph, Ted, Benjamin, and Conrad, took hold of the ropes around the coffin and lowered it into the grave.
    Laura heard a muffled sound beside her, and saw that Agatha was crying. Laura had not quite forgiven her for slapping Ellen, but she felt so guilty for not crying herself that she patted Agatha on the arm.
    When the coffin came to rest it made a mushy, sucking thud that sent shivers through Laura, and she saw Ted blanch. Randolph picked up another handful of mud and dropped it into the hole. He looked almost as unhappy as Ted. Conrad and Benjamin and Ted in turn dropped a handful of earth and stepped backward.
    Then the whole crowd pushed forward, and the air was full of flowers. Laura flung hers with abandon, and they landed at Randolph’s feet. Laura froze, her hand still out. Randolph froze for a moment himself; but then he bowed to her, scooped up the flowers, and scattered them across the grave with a gesture that was like a salute. Laura grinned at him in her relief, but he did not smile back.
    “For shame, child,” said Agatha, her voice still shaky.
    Laura promptly