omake #8

 tissues alert...

Omake 8

 

“No, I don’t intend a state funeral for my son,” said Jeremi.

“I thought he was your favourite, notwithstanding being illegitimate,” said Jan Sobieski, upset.

“He is. Was. But really, can you see Jurij and Helena thinking much of a grand state funeral?” said Jeremi. “They went out of life the way they lived, in dedication and duty, with flamboyance, panache, derring-do, and a loud detonation of gunpowder. Trying to give a state funeral would be trying to upstage their finest hour, and their sacrifice. Instead I shall have the battle painted on the largest canvas possible, as a panoramic view, in a special building built for the purpose overlooking Jurij’s bridge, where people may go, on a viewing platform which is the poop of their ship and lifesize models of them holding hands as they sail into eternity. And since, as far as any man may judge, it was the same day you and Michaś broke the siege of Vienna, the eleventh of September shall be a day of national holiday for all time, and a day to honour all heroes.” His eyes were full of tears.

“I understand, my lord king,” said Hetman Sobieski, softly. “I... forgive me, sire, I wondered if you feared those who might speak against a state funeral for a bastard son.”

“I fear none of them,” said Jeremi. “I am an old man, and have little more to live for, but before God, if I plan something for my beloved son, who put me on the throne, then I will have it. But dirges and processions are not my Jurij’s taste.”

“Not sufficiently fun,” agreed Sobieski. His own tears fell unheeded.

“Exactly,” said Jeremi. “My fiery, fun-loving, joyful Cossack boy. And my equally fiery, fun-loving, joyful Cossack girl, my Helena.”