Читать книгу Wind Follower - Carole McDonnell - Страница 11

SATHA: The Little Taste

Mamya Jontay, Loic’s Little Mother, the noblewoman who had raised him since his birth, led me to my rooms in the women’s section of the guest quarters. With her were other Pagatsu noblewomen. After greeting me with dancing and singing, they left us alone in my dowry-filled room surrounded by chalcedony, gold, jasper, jade, turquoise and other riches. She gestured toward the bed on which a pearl-encrusted silk quilt rested. I walked in silence toward it.

Glancing around at the furs, fabrics and the objects of wealth, and comparing them to the torn and tattered dinginess of my former home, I regretted my rudeness to Loic and my ungratefulness for such blessings. Although I had lived in poverty, I had not accepted it. Nor had I accepted the loneliness of living in a strange region with no clan to protect me. Now I had both wealth and family.

Mamya Jontay stood near the bed, staring at me, as if waiting for me to speak. I must have looked like a little lost sheep for she suddenly said, “Thesenya, we’re a fierce people, but you’re one of us now. Despite being in the guest quarters, you’re not alone. I know you Thesenyas are close to your mothers. I will bring her here if you wish.”

“And my father?”

She frowned as if I had spoken indecent words. “Not your father. Speak to him little during the betrothal feast days, and never in private. During the days of the Restraint, speak no word to him at all.”

“Among the Theseni, the betrothed couple—”

“Arhe, you’re Doreni now. The Restraint year begins after the six days of the betrothal feast ends. During that time, you and Loic must not see your fathers. Not until the full marriage. Come to know your husband, share each other’s sweetness without the interference of men.”

“This is a harsh custom you’ve thrust upon me, Mamya Jontay,” I said.

She put her arm around my shoulder and said firmly but with kindness, “You will bear it. The rules are narrow, the Golden House is wide, and you are an obedient girl who wants to show everyone you can restrain yourself from running to your father.”

I didn’t think I was obedient, but knew well enough to pretend to be.

She indicated the jewelry scattered about the room. “All this is your dowry, girl.”

“It is not my dowry. My father’s goodness has earned it.”

“Layo, layo. True, he has riches now. And if the marriage fails, all this is yours and his to keep.” She gave me a warning look. “But the marriage will not fail, will it?”

I shook my head.

She continued. “Such wealth can be intimidating, I know. The love of a passionate young man even more so. But you’ll become used to both love and wealth.” She smiled, and strange it was to see a Doreni woman smiling at me. I had gotten used to their formidable stares in the marketplace. “Think of all the good this wealth can do. Only, try to love my Loicuyo for himself. He loves you very much and...” Her words trailed into silence.

“And what?”

“He’ll know if you don’t love him. That’s all.” She walked toward the doorway, pulled the wooden curtain aside, passed through it, then turned and pulled it closed behind her.

I was alone.

Fatigue should have made me sleep, but I missed hearing Mam’s snoring from the other room. I worried about not seeing Father. I lay watching the glittering of jewels in the moonlight, wondering what freedoms I had lost and what burdensome duties I had gained. As I lay there, footsteps echoed in the corridor. “Mamya Jontay?” I whispered, rising from the bed. “Is that you? Is that you, Mam?”

No answer came.

I rose and, as was my custom, reached for my veil. I hastily put it on before I pushed the wooden curtain slats of the door aside.

It was Loic, his finger to his lips. “Throw a gyuilta over your nightdress,” he whispered and raised his hands to show I had nothing to fear. He gestured toward the dark fields. “Let us walk together alone.”

My mother’s advice returned to me. Bend to his will. I wondered, If I bend to his will, will he still want me? “Out there?” I asked. “In the darkness? Without our mothers?”

“I will not hurt you, Satha.”

“No,” I stammered. “I did not think you would hurt me. But—”

“Ah, I see! I’ve heard that Theseni women are afraid of the dark and very superstitious, always sprinkling powders and dropping food for the spirits wherever you go. So it’s really true?” He grinned, entering the room without invitation, and sat down on the bed.

“I’ve heard you Doreni men have small yphers and cannot satisfy women. Is that true?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard you Theseni women are so prickly and pious no man’s ypher can satisfy you. Is that true?”

We faced each other in silence until he lifted a pair of sandals so exquisitely worked their beauty almost left me breathless. I took them from him and placed them on my feet. How dainty my toes looked in them!

“Don’t fear these shadow gods,” he said. “They have no real power.” He said this with such quiet conviction and with such absolute certitude that I knew it to be the truth. “Let’s go, now. While we walk, you must tell me why you don’t like mirrors.”

I stared at him, then glanced at a gold-edged mirror hanging near the door. “How do you know I don’t like mirrors?”

He turned the mirror’s face to the wall. “I’ll tell the servants to remove them if you wish. But your reason for disliking them is not a valid one. You’re not ugly and your dark skin is most becoming.”

“How do you know what is in my heart?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. “Tell me, my husband. Can you truly see inside my heart?”

He seemed almost ashamed. “It is an unpredictable, undependable birth-gift. A trait inherited from my Desai mother. There is no faithfulness in it that I can trust in.”

“Nevertheless, Waihai! You’re blessed to have such a gift. Jobara!”

A grin spread across his face. “Do you truly think so? Although it’s so fickle? When I’m distressed or grieved, it is of no use at all. My confusion thwarts it.”

“Even so, my husband. Such a gift breeds fear in others. What warrior would not be unsure of himself when speaking to you? If that is the gift’s only purpose, it serves you well. No one can confidently lie to you. And who would dare conspire against you if they think you can see their thoughts?”

His eyes widened as if a new truth had been presented to him. “Jobara! Layo, Layo! Indeed! Yes, truly. Now that you know that secret I will tell you another. I also do not like mirrors. I do not like what I see in them.”

“What do you see?”

“I see the other world inside them.”

“Is there another world inside them?” I asked, surprised.

“At first, Father said I was imagining things. But then Little Mother recognized many of the mirror people I described.”

My eyes must have widened. “Who were these mirror people?”

“Dead ones thrown into the trash heap of Gebelda, or the holy ones taken by the Creator. Or the Arkhai who walk the earth, sky and water.” He stopped abruptly. “You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Waihai! Such gifts! Perhaps the spirits have marked you to intercede for them. And yet, with all this, your clan did not make you a shaman? Do they think perhaps that the falling sickness has wounded your mind?”

Shame spread across his face. For as long as it takes for a crow to wing across the sky, he stared at me. I realized I had spoken about his illness and stuttered an apology.

“Do you always ask stupid questions of people when they tell you all their heart?” he snapped at last.

“I wasn’t ... it just seemed ... only shamans and men with sick minds see visions.”

“I am neither a shaman nor mad.” He breathed deeply, like a child trying to push his angry thoughts away. “Don’t doubt me, Satha. I don’t doubt you. I’ve changed my heart. We will not walk tonight.” Then, pushing me aside, he walked through the doorway and down the tiled corridor.

As I watched his slender figure disappearing into the darkness, I thought, Perhaps I am indeed blessed to have such a husband. Even though he’s spoiled and not used to someone challenging him, I can see that he longs for the Good Maker as I have longed for goodness. Perhaps the Creator has indeed claimed him as his own.

* * * *

The next morning, Mam and Little Mother came to my door. They were like two minds in one head, and each head overflowed with similar plans for me.

“How did you sleep, my married daughter?” Mam asked, pushing the wooden curtain aside.

I was glad to see her. Yet because I was still unsure if such solitary visits were allowed, and because I was a married woman, I told myself that Mam need not know all that occurred between Loic and me.

She set about searching among my gifts for the right dress for me, while Little Mother explained that Okiak had been appointed to tell me about the Doreni food rules.

“In a year when the full marriage is performed, you will be expected to create a great feast for your guests,” Little Mother said. “And you’re expected to show your skills in Doreni daggerwork, and horsemanship. Horse riding, food knowledge, daggerwork and diplomacy are the four arts a high-born Doreni woman must know. We call them the Four Defenses because they are beneficial in dealing with danger.”

* * * *

The art of Doreni knifework was powerful and graceful. As Mamya Jontay showed me one tactic after another, she seemed no longer an old woman but a young Doreni warrior. “A Doreni woman has a small dagger hidden on her person at all times,” she explained, brandishing a dagger. “With all these vendettas, one never knows when one might be carried off.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mamya Jontay,” I said, “My life is protected and safe. I see no use in learning useless traditions.”

Mamya Jontay said nothing, only smiled her inscrutable smile, then turned back to her practice.

Later Loic approached us on the field. How happy I was to see him and yet how fearful! I wondered if he was still angry with me.

“I see you’ve been studying,” he said, but his eyes showed neither desire nor anger.

“Mamya Jontay could assassinate even Fiancour, our hardiest Theseni warrior,” I replied.

“Fiancour?” He said, whistling. “Jobara!” Then he left. No other words did he speak to me, no emotion did he show.

That night, as moonlight spread across the fields, I paced back and forth in my room waiting for our Love Trespass. That was what they called it in those days. When I heard his footfall sounding along the corridor, my heart leaped.

“You needn’t have worried,” he said, when I pushed the curtain aside. “I’ve forgiven you.”

I hadn’t been thinking that I needed to be forgiven, but I kept my peace. Small twigs can be fodder for great fires, and he was so happy, holding my hand as he danced and leaped along the corridors, I thought it best not to defend myself. He led me from the guest women’s quarters to the edge of Taer’s marriage quarters where a herb garden of spices bordered a wrought-iron gate.

“This is arvina,” he said, plucking a thorny plant with many small purple flowers. “They say it makes lovemaking fierce.”

I glanced back at my rooms. “I see.”

“When this Restraint is over,” he said, “and we have built our own marriage quarters and our own houses and households, we will blanket our bed with it.” Without asking, he lifted my veil and pushed aside my scarf. “Haven’t we promised we will unveil our hearts to each other?” He kissed my cheek and warmth throbbed through my body. Then he smiled so intimately that even now I’m embarrassed to speak of it.

“Since you asked,” I said, “I did not like your coldness to me today.”

“Such coldness was necessary,” he said. “If I had not been cold you would have seen my anger. My clansmen expect to see wisdom and propriety in our actions. They know we’re young and want to couch with each other. They know we will have disagreements. If we display all our emotions and cannot show our restraint, they will think us unwise and deem us people who are easily overthrown by their emotions.”

“Jobara?” I asked. “Indeed?”

“Jobara.”

“Truly, my husband, living a life of such importance can be both tedious and grievous. I often thought myself unlucky that my parents lost all their wealth, but now—”

“This life is now yours, whether you wish it or not,” he answered. “Perhaps it was always yours—from the beginning of time. Perhaps it left you for a while, only to return again. I’ve found that some people cannot lose their destiny no matter how they fight against it.”

“Do the Doreni always speak of destiny and responsibilities?”

He pointed to the east near the longhouse, then to the west near the servants’ quarters, the stables and the farm, to the north where the men’s quarters and the guest houses were, and at last to the south at the women’s quarters and the clan houses. “The Doreni have their moments of light-heartedness, but the son of a chieftain must be serious. And the son of a Pagatsu chieftain who happens to be the king’s First Captain ... well...”

In the distance one of our family goats was butting her head against a barrel. “Look at that stubborn Myuhli,” I said. “She’s a bossy one. She’s not hungry at all. She just likes causing trouble.”

I opened the gate and ran toward her. When the stubborn creature saw me coming, she sped away another hundred paces. She could not outrun me. I was fleet and fast then, not old and fat as I am now. My two long legs caught up with her four short ones, and I trapped her near one of the squatting places. When I reached her, I tapped her on the nose, then turned to look backward at Loic. He had not moved. I called back to him. “Come, no one will see us. We’ve broken no taboo if no one sees us.” He jumped over the gate. When he reached me, his eyes studied me as if entranced.

“We should not linger too near the Large Path,” he said at last. “Remember the taboo.”

I burst out laughing. “How can you hate the spirits and say they have no power over us, and yet also speak of taboos? Surely, a freethinker such as you should examine all your customs.”

“I have considered many of our customs, my wife. But this is not only a matter of spirits and their demands. These taboos are man-made, sound and proven. They protect us from grief, gossip, and suspicion.”

“Do they? Jobara?”

“Consider if we should meet my Father and our guests as we walk on this path. My clansmen would say that because my illness weakened my manhood I went looking for Father’s help to bed you. They may consider me a weakling who seeks his father’s help in all things. Also, if they see you talking to your father, they’ll say your father bedded you before we married and you went searching for him because I didn’t satisfy you. Or they will say your father himself had no desire to give you up.”

“You’ve thought all this out, I see.”

“Not me, but the ancients. They know how vile and unkind human reasoning can be. The Golden House is large and wide. A hundred towns could be contained within it. Over the next year, we will choose servants from the household for our own household. Then, when the year—” he paused as if pondering the word “—a year seems long, does it not, my wife?”

“It is the custom, my husband. As you say, the ancients know what is best.”

“Kwelku.” He sounded unconvinced. “In a year, a very long year, when our household is built—”

“My husband, I have thought much about a certain matter. As you probably know, Theseni husbands and wives do not live in separate houses, and at night we sleep in the same bed. I do not wish to live in one house and you in another.”

He was silent for a moment. “Theseni customs have fascinated me since my youth. If my wife wishes to live in the Theseni manner, I will do so.” He paused and turned his face away for a moment. “I am not sure, however, if you will want to always sleep in the same bed with me.”

“Why would I not, my husband?”

He didn’t answer, only turned his face away. After a typically long Doreni silence, he said, “Think of it, my heart, when we see our fathers at the end of the year, our lands, houses, servants, allies and property will be established. We will be equals with my father, then, and no longer under his will—” “To be allied against one’s father? How warlike that sounds!”

“Such customs preserve order and create stability.”

He led me to a cleft in a small hillside within the prescribed boundaries and far from the Large Path. “Here,” he said, “behind these tall dry lingay grasses, and these colrona shrubs—” he pointed to the leaves “—these can hide us.”

The shrubs, their immature gourds and wide shady leaves already green and mottled under the fast-approaching heat moons, became our nightly private meeting place after the household had gone to bed. There we would share our hearts, but not all our hearts. If Mam or Mamya Jontay suspected our trysts, they never mentioned it. Such trespasses were expected as long as we did not couch together.

On the fourth night of our betrothal, Loic came running to my room. “Little Mother likes you,” he whispered as if this were some great news. “She even likes New Mother Monua.”

“Little Mother has always liked me,” I answered.

He raised his eyebrow, indicating that perhaps she had not. “When I first saw you, I told Little Mother all my heart. She was angry and shouted at me: “Loicuyo, your whim has destroyed your future.” Queen Butterfly, you see, had wanted me to marry her daughter Thira. A pretty girl, yes, but she honors the spirits too much. She’s also too ladylike and proper, too obedient to her mother. Waihai, there were too many things wrong with that girl. Jobara! I could not live with one like that, and frankly, who wants Butterfly for a New Mother? Even so, marrying the girl would have ensured my future. If I were joined to Jaguar’s family, my clansmen would forget my—” He broke off as if he had caught a thought before it escaped his lips. “But now Little Mother thinks you’re a good choice, that you’ll mother me as she has done.”

“Is that what you want?” I watched his face closely. “A mother?”

A Theseni man would have been insulted by such a question. But Loic—perhaps because the Doreni love their mothers so—only answered, “I can’t truly tell what kind of wife I want. My father’s marriage is not a good example for me. I hope to love you purely. Nevertheless if there is, in my love for you, something like a son’s love for his mother, or a brother’s love for his sister, what can be done? We are what we are. I have had many mothers and I have liked them all, although I grieve for my true mother. Yes, although I never knew her.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “I hope you will not die before me. I hope it is I who will leave you bereft and not the other way around.”

“How strange you are!” I said.

“Even so. Promise me this, anyway.”

“My husband, I promise I shall not die before you do.”

“And I promise I will linger near the gates of the fields we long for and will enjoy none of its pleasures until you arrive.”

On the sixth night, hurried footsteps sounded outside my wooden curtains. I raced to them. It was Loic and he held both my shoulders tightly kissing my cheeks through my veil. Then he let me go and leaped in the air, turning about several times.

“I’ve managed it,” he said and finished dancing an Ibeni two-step.

“Managed what?” I asked. “Please stop that dancing! Tell me, what have you done?”

He stretched out his arms to me and smiled a large gap-toothed smile. “I sent word to Father asking him to remove the Restraint.” He retrieved a tiny square piece of parchment, showed it to me and, throwing all caution away, shouted, “He has agreed!” His words must have echoed throughout the hillside. “We’ll have the full marriage tomorrow.” His eyes pleaded with me to share his joy.

I did not dance or leap. I stood silent, trying to understand the full implication of this new event. “What about the year-mark?”

“Father’s a traditionalist.” His eyes seemed to be trying to see inside my soul. “But he chooses carefully what traditions he’ll cling to.”

“I see.” I began to realize that even a reasoned plea to wait until the year-mark might be seen as rejection. “How did you convince him to set this tradition aside? And why would you want it set aside?”

“I told Father we were young.” His voice had grown less excited and more suspicious. “I told him our blood boiled hot for each other, that we were having trouble controlling ourselves. I reminded him that I was whimsical and willful and you were gentle and kind and who knew what would happen? And would it not be a disgrace if you were found with child before the full marriage was celebrated.”

Fearful because his face had become more wary and pleading, I phrased my question carefully. “And he believed you?”

My new husband looked at me as if I was suddenly becoming a stranger to him.

I softened my question. “I think only of my honor, Loic. Will Treads Lightly not think I’m as unrestrained as an Ibeni woman? That I forego the Restraint because I myself have none?”

“Father doesn’t think like that.” The wary pleading look turned to an angry scowl. Anger and fear alternated on his face. “So you don’t want me?”

“My husband, you speak often about the wisdom of the ancients. Were they not wise in creating the Restraint and the half marriage? Does it not benefit me? How can I create a household if I have not lived among the servants and understood them? How can I order a household if I have not lived long with the customs of your people? How will you understand how virtuous I am if you have not seen me withstand your advances for a year?”

“Wife, if we marry tomorrow, you will not have to wait a year to see your father.”

I grew silent then, not knowing what to make of what was obviously a bribe. I suspect he saw my heart because he hid his face from me as I pondered his words. Mam’s advice also returned to my mind: bend to his will.

The scowl left Loic’s face and suddenly he was carefree again, smiling widely. He put his hands around my waist, then slid them upward to my breasts. “Yes,” he said, “a wife should bend to her husband’s will.” Then, as if I had already agreed to his intentions, he turned about and faced the surrounding field, turning his head to the left then to the right, obviously searching. “But we cannot play here.”

He interlaced his fingers in mine and together we ran—How fast! The treetops whizzed by. How breathless we were when we arrived at our private place!

We tumbled onto the grass and he put his hand into the sleeve of his gyuilta. Soon he was holding something up in the moonlight, a nose-ring. “It’s a heirloom from my mother, part of her dowry.” Of pure intricately wrought gold it was. “This is one of many gifts I inherited from her. When the full marriage is completed tomorrow, all I own and all that she gave me will be yours.”

I took the nose-ring and removed my own silver one. Somewhere in the darkness a hornbill sang. I wondered, Is the male hornbill protectively entombing his mate in a tree even now? “Perhaps we should wait,” I said, shifting on the grass. “Since, you say our wedding night is only a day away, why not wait to consummate it then?”

“Exactly. What is a mere day? Why wait?” While I looked on, surprised, he quickly removed his tunic, leggings, breechcloth and undergarment. “Come now, remove your hand from your eyes. I’m your husband now. Or do you consider my body puny?”

“No,” I said, uncovering my eyes and staring at the beautiful slender tan body before me. “It isn’t puny. Jobara! Indeed, you’re quite good to look at.”

“Yes,” he said. “My New Mother told me you like slender men. I’ll show you, Little Theseni girl, that thinness and muscles aren’t what matters. Take your clothes off.”

I removed them, but held my nightdress and gyuilta before me to cover my nakedness.

“The top halves of your breasts peek out over your nightdress like dark half-moons,” he said, pulling the gyuilta from me and setting it on the soft flowers hidden among the lingay grass. “Dark Half-Moons,” he repeated. “Yes, that shall be my love-name for you. Dark Half-Moons.”

I burst out laughing, and he asked, “Why do you laugh, Dark Half-Moons?”

I said, “I had never dreamed that one with half-moon eyes would call me Dark Half-Moons.”

He pushed my nightdress aside and placed it on the ground. “Nor did I think I would fall in love with a Thesenya.” He lifted his face towards mine, kissing me, pushing the singing of the grasshoppers and the pungent smell of the spice garden from my mind. His lips—warm, warm—pressed into mine and I opened my mouth against his softly demanding tongue. The kiss was tentative, and yet, how long, gentle and deep it was!

His lips roamed my neck and shoulders, then he whispered in my ear. “Little Mother taught me many things about giving women pleasure. But you must promise not to scream and not to laugh or weep, or else someone will hear us.”

“Half-Moon Eyes, have you spent all your time listening to old Doreni women and reading Ibeni poets?”

As an answer, his hands gently stroked my neck. His tongue then played with my nipples, as his hands slowly traveled down my stomach towards my thighs, pushing them apart. How clumsy it all was, and how stiff my body was! Like an old oak log, unmoving, unmovable. I could feel his heart racing with such life, caressing mine. Surprised at my body’s refusal to succumb to joy, I tried to fight my resistance. Perhaps the stories were true. Perhaps we Theseni women could not enjoy ourselves in sex-play. Perhaps I was still grieving for my sister’s sorrows. Perhaps I had some foreboding and presentiment. Only the Creator knows our hearts.

“You’re lovely,” he said, surprising me. Perhaps I expected him to know how far away my mind was. Nevertheless, he must’ve seen something to suddenly say such healing words. Such good kind words.

I began to believe myself as lovely as he declared. My body relaxed under his hands, and all fears of New Father and worries for my indebted parents fled my mind. All I could think was: a good and lovely husband loves me. I breathed freely. His fingers—warm they were—found the softness between my thighs. His lips found my breast again and he entered me. A sensation of warmth passed from his body into mine. It became fire, increased, and raced up my arm and neck. Sudden moistness ... blood and something else ... oozed between my legs. Mam had told me there’d be blood. How sticky my legs felt. I saw then what was meant when they said lovemaking was a covenant of blood, a sacrifice. I suppose the child was created on that very night.

After, he laid his head on my heart and his hand relaxed in mine. A ripple of giggles rose from his throat then exploded into laughter. “I never knew such joy existed,” he said. Then kissing my stomach he said, “Let’s do it again.”

We did. This time it lasted longer and was sweeter still.

Then we lay there, eye to eye, knowing our souls had entered into each other. I had heard about the fierceness of Doreni lovemaking. It was said that after couching Doreni women could not walk for hours, often days. Yet, although he embraced me tightly, he had been gentle and I sensed he was afraid to let me go.

He kissed my lips. “How could I ever love another if you own my heart?” He pointed toward a low incline behind Taer’s marriage quarters. “There’s a tiled pool near there. A hot spring bubbles up from beneath the ground and the pool is carved out of the rock surrounding it.”

Wee walked—naked, hand in hand—to the pool.

In the moonlight the glazed tiles shone like blue mother-of-pearl. We descended into it and far off, on the hillside, the women of Taer’s household appeared, gathering flowers. I would later learn they were the flowers for my bridal ceremony and that the hasty full marriage had been accepted by all. I thought, How easy it is to bend to the will of a husband one is beginning to love! Yes, from that night, I began to love him, and the more I loved him the more unsettled I became.

* * * *

I was married, not after a year but after a week of my betrothal. On that day we stood in the Pagatsu ancestral arbor watching Okiak and three minor Pagatsu priests kill the sacrificial sheep and draw the bloody circle around Sio, Loic and me to seal our covenant with the Creator. I was sure all the world knew our secret. How could they not? Loic looked like a lover who already knew and enjoyed the secret places of his wife’s body. I, for my part, could look no one in the eye. Even when the Ibeni priest watered our hands, and the Theseni shaman blew the wind of life into our faces, I kept my head turned down.

The guests who had come for the seven day feasts extended their stay another seven days. In those days, a wedding feast was a public affair and all came from far and near. Well-wishers joined us in the ring dance. All wore the wedding garments provided for them: tunics which included both the Pagatsu markings and the symbols of my parents’ professions—golden tents and silver needles. How wonderful and strange it seemed to me that the household servants had embroidered those wedding garments in so short a time! How honored I felt when my new clansmen danced around me and praised Loic for choosing such a gracious wife. The wedding feast seemed like nothing less than the Great Feast of Heaven! I had once again found a new clan for the lost one. Such love and peace I felt that the past griefs and loneliness that had oppressed me began to dissipate.

When I thought that this joy could bloom no happier, who should arrive at Taer’s Golden House with great retinue of horsemen and courtiers but King Jaguar, the three tribal queens, Prince Lihu and all the Matchless Family! I cannot praise the beauty of Our Matchless Prince enough. All the tribes were found in him—the curled black hair of the Theseni; the Doreni eyes, gray and wide; and the high Ibeni cheekbones.

“The people of the land of the three tribes say Jaguar chose the three most beautiful women in the land at his coronation,” Loic whispered to me when they entered the Outer Courtyard. “They are wrong. No woman—not even the three queens—is more beautiful than you.”

“Truly, any woman would be happy to marry Our Matchless King. But you, my husband, are all I want.”

He smiled a bit nervously and stared at me a long time. I suspected he only half-believed me.

From across the room, First Prince Lihu lifted a glass of distilled palm sap and shouted loudly. “Little Thesenya,” he said. “Lift your veil and let me glory in your presence.”

“The Thesenya will no longer wear her veil,” Loic shouted back. “I have told her repeatedly she is Doreni now. Even though she wears the Theseni marriage veil now, it still hides too much. My wife, let my guests see how beautiful you are. Indulge me by removing your veil.”

At this Lihu added, “Wait, brother, tonight she’ll remove everything.”

Everyone except Queen Butterfly laughed. She seemed to be trying to make me feel like an intruder at my own wedding.

Lihu must have seen this, because he turned to his mother and said, “Loic has found a beautiful Theseni woman to rest his heart and head and ypher on, has he not, Mother? You and Thira will have to wait for Sio to grow up.”

Queen Butterfly was the only one who didn’t laugh at her son’s joke. Lihu’s first-born status had made her Chief Queen and she relished her position over Second Queen Sweet-as-Jasmine and Third Queen White Star. The Trabu Theseni were like that. Willful and arrogant, power-hungry, and lacking in humor. Not fun-loving like we Kluna. However, her strong will made her a good advocate for all the Theseni in the land even if her flamboyance and arrogance had earned her the nickname Butterfly.

She tossed the too-long sleeves of her brightly-colored gyuilta over her knees and clapped her hands together. Immediately, wooden, metal, reed, and skin instruments sounded throughout the Golden House, in the outer and inner courts, and in the longhouse. Dancers rose at her bidding to perform traditional and contemporary songs. This silenced her son. Then rising, and giving me a disdainful look, she gestured that Sio and Thira should also dance. They rose immediately. Together their feet skimmed across the floor as lightly as a feather floating on water. When the dance ended, they were giggling in a corner together.

The Third Wife had spent the wedding glaring at me but when she saw her son dancing, she smiled. I had been sorry for her. The servants—even the half-Angleni ones—had been ignoring her all day, even while they filled her platters and bowls with honeyed sweets and fat meats.

“How good those dainties look,” I said to Loic.

I wanted to pile my plate high, but Loic had only touched the rich foods when the ritual required he “taste a little sweetness.”

His Mamya hovered near him, offering only vegetables, fruit, and buffalo meat. If at any time, she saw him put any cake or bread to his mouth, she slapped his hand. This he endured long into the night until at last he pleaded with her to leave him alone.

About sunset, the entrance curtains of Taer’s Golden House were pulled aside and several Doreni men in blue clan caps marked with patterns I didn’t recognize walked through the doorway. Their leader, one who wore a jade bracelet, seemed only a few years older than I, but I would later learn he was above thirty-five years. Although he had the slanted Doreni eyes, his dark red hair showed that his clan had intermarried with one of the northern Ibeni clans, or possibly with the Angleni. The beauty of his face shone like one of Ywa’s messengers, yet it seemed strangely familiar.

The gathering room grew silent when he entered, and the pipes and drums slowly halted. He strolled toward Our Matchless Family, who greeted him warmly. The eyes of the Pagatsu clan all turned from Taer to the stranger and then to Taer again. But Taer’s gaze turned toward the Third Wife and her son Sio. The young boy’s apparent joy at the stranger’s presence was evidenced by an admiring smile. I understood suddenly why the stranger seemed so familiar. I thought, Sio is the stranger’s son.

Loic turned to me and whispered, “Yes, he is. This is Noam, my father’s captain and former friend, now his dearest enemy.”

“If he’s your father’s enemy, why is he here?”

“Because my father has designated Sio as the Bridegroom’s Friend. Because Noam is one of my Father’s Valiant Men. Because of Father’s actions, I must now endure him for the next seven days and must feast with—”

He stopped speaking when Theseni Queen Butterfly loudly greeted the newcomer. “Of all Taer’s Great Ones, only you, Noam, could come to the full-wedding? What has happened to the famous camaraderie of the Valiant Men?” She looked at me as if the absence of the other Great Ones was my fault.

Noam answered her, “Are Heldek and Ganti are not here?” How gentle his voice was. He called out to Taer, “But it is understandable. A wedding hall cannot be filled when a boy and his betrothed dare not wait.”

A groan of disapproval arose, and the room became silent. Noam’s words were purposely lacking in etiquette.

Taer did not answer him, but Our Matchless King said, “Jobara! Indeed most of Taer’s Valiant Men are here. The Seventy Warriors, the Thirty Masters. But, know that Heldek is away on a mission to the Angleni King. As for Ganti, well, you know the Desai.”

Noam nodded. “Ah, yes! The well-known Desai reclusiveness. Even so, any who wished to attend still would have had a hard time of it. The event was so hastily—”

King Jaguar raised his hand and his voice. “Enough, Noam! I excused your rudeness before, but you insist on straining etiquette by pushing your point. The girl is honorable, and what if the marriage was hastened? They have been betrothed to each other since their youth. Why should they wait another year?”

Noam immediately stopped speaking, but resentment marred the beauty of his face. He walked towards the Matchless Family and bowed low before the king. After that, he whispered something I could not hear but which set the queens to arguing. Third Queen White Star, the Ibeni Queen, suddenly began gesticulating at Butterfly, who seemed relentless in pressing some point. Sweet-as-Jasmine, the Doreni queen, tried to make peace but after several attempts sat silent.

After a while, the king lifted his hands and pointed to Noam. “With a simple phrase, Seared Conscience,” he said, “you have returned my Queens to their old quarrel.”

None of the queens paid attention to their husband, and White Star seemed at the point of tears. “Husband King,” she said, “will you allow that woman to insult my people as she’s doing?”

“White Star,” the King answered, “you are well able to defend yourself against Butterfly.” He called out to Loic, “How wise you are in choosing to marry only one wife, my boy! Do you see what I suffer? Only my dear Sweet-as-Jasmine understands my need for peace. Nevertheless, at my coronation, these were the women I chose. What a lovely week I had bedding them all. Now they disrupt the loveliness of your wedding.”

“Don’t speak so ill against your wife, Jaguar,” Loic answered. “All in our land bless you for your wisdom in choosing such honorable wives.”

Then I added, “Matchless King, I am honored to have arguing queens at my wedding. We Theseni say it is not a true Doreni wedding if no fight breaks out.”

Everyone laughed at this, and Our Matchless King shouted, “Taer, your son has found a Thesenya with a Doreni sense of humor. A hard thing, that.”

Loic smiled but whispered to me, “Consider carefully what Noam has done. Jaguar rebuked him publicly just now. This is not something we Doreni often do because a shamed friend becomes a harsh enemy. Even so, Jaguar is king and he can do what he wishes. Notice how Noam responded to the king’s rebuke. To avenge himself, he started a disagreement between the queens.”

I eyed him askance. “Come now, husband. You are finding machinations where none exist.”

“You do not know Noam as I do, my wife. In everything he’s too easily offended and when offended he must win. His name among our people used to be ‘Slippery as Oil’ because he was so shrewd, but now everyone calls him ‘Seared Conscience’ because he is often cruel in avenging himself. Especially in small slights.”

“If he is so dishonorable, why hasn’t anyone killed him yet?”

Loic pointed to the jade bracelet on Noam’s arm. “We Doreni are warlike, but—it’s a paradox, but it’s true—because we are involved in so many blood-feuds, we do everything to avoid vendettas. Like me, Noam is a first-born son. The son of the Therpa clan chief. To kill him would cause clan warfare with a great and powerful clan, a clan with many alliances. Who would want to start warfare now, considering the Angleni are still scheming to take our land?”

As he spoke, I noticed that several warriors were slapping Seared Conscience’s shoulder amiably.

“He seems very loved,” I said.

Loic nodded. “That he is. It is quite difficult to dislike Noam. Even when one distrusts him.”

“Cuyo!” Noam greeted us from across the room. “May the Wind blow good things toward you, and evil things far away!” He strode toward us and extended his arm to stroke Loic’s shoulder. My husband recoiled as if Loic’s hand carried a taint or poison. In response Noam smiled, as if my husband’s reaction amused him. He turned his green eyes toward me and my half-moons. His eyes roamed over the landscape of my body as if I was a new land he had discovered, a land that was all his heart had ever wanted. Ashamed of being the object of a lust so freely shown, I turned my eyes toward the ground.

“Cuyo.” Noam still kept his eyes on me, although he was speaking to my husband. “Is it true the year mark was eliminated because your father fears for your health? A healthy son would surely preserve the headship for you. Yes, considering your health, your father was right thing to forego the Restraint.”

Loic squeezed my hand so hard my fingers hurt. I looked at his hands. They were trembling and his veins were taut against his skin.

“Hasn’t the king told you to cease all talk on this topic?”

Noam grinned, obviously amused at my husband’s words. I clutched my husband’s agitated hand and gently rubbed it tight.

Loic’s shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes. Like shut doors they were, refusing to be opened. Loic, you must learn to be a good warrior, I thought. Put bravery on your face and steady your hand. He looked at me as if he had seen my mind, and smiled.

Like a child stalking a pet, or a favorite uncle, Mad Malana was creeping up behind Noam. She held something behind her back. She touched Noam’s arm and he swung round wildly, his dagger immediately drawn. She jumped back, spilling the berry mukal glass on the carpet. “Noyu,” she screamed, “it’s me, your little Malana. Do you not recognize me?”

He slipped his dagger back into the sleeve of his tunic and shouted at her, red-faced. “Malana! Never do that again!” He shook her hard. “I could have killed you. You don’t want to be killed, do you?” Although his voice was raised loudly, his love for her was evident. He held her tightly and wiped terrified tears from her eyes.

She opened his arms wide and closed them around her, snuggled inside them, “No, Noyu, you would not kill me. Come and see, come and see what beautiful things I’ve made for Loic. But really, really, you should not bring a dagger to Cuyo’s wedding.” In her madness and innocence, she had said what Jaguar and the other warriors had not said, that it was poor taste for a man to carry a concealed weapon to a feast.

Noam walked away and continued teasing Malana. Then he turned around and his gaze caught mine. He smiled, a smile full of sweetness.

Is this how he seduced the Third Wife? I wondered. But why is he harassing Loic? Or is he badgering Loic in order to make Taer angry? And how his eyes roamed my body!

The moment I thought this, Loic turned his eyes from Noam to me. I knew he had heard my thoughts and had been thinking the same thing.