Ha'x mibli Kao-a so su-Yilakili : The Sound of a Few Words Ringing
The Memoirs of Kilomela-Jann Urmonaxi
A Saiyan Among The Korud-Jin
VIII.
The River-Demon's Bridegroom: Mes-Dindalafai so-Usar'ros
The dry season of 738 was the coldest winter in three hundred years. Towards the end of the harvest, the farmers were forced to work at twice the usual rate, and even then, the onset of winter was quicker than their hands. The sudden drop in temperature was said to be only a brief departure from the predictions distributed by the Royal Office of Agriculture. The patriarch assured us that the region was in no danger of famine. We ate well and spent our money carelessly, confident that the next year would bring better profits.
Jann-Run, pleased that I displayed a great eagerness to study, ordered a new copy of The Deeds of Korudsiki from a bookshop in the capital. The cover was embossed with a floral motif and a gold page-marker was attached to the binding. Inside, the page borders were filled with bright illustrations printed from engravings. The seller had written that the king himself had purchased such a copy for his personal collection.
O listen, friends!
This is the story of the first ancestor,
Korudsiki, he who railed against the gods,
And challenged the rule of mortal men,
At the beginning of this glorious age.
Meanwhile, Talarin's melancholy seemed to have disappeared entirely. We took turns reading about the adventures of the tragic hero Korudsiki, and went on secret missions to swipe sweets from the kitchen at night. We built towers out of the patriarch's playing cards, and made a tent in the shed out of bed sheets and sticks. We painted a bright orange stripe on a new sailboat that smelled of furniture polish and sawdust. Talarin wrote the name Kikivi-Yek on one of the smooth planks, so small that it took me an hour of searching to find it afterwards.
The suspicious note, cleverly doctored, was given to Mama, who carelessly left it on the kitchen counter while she tended to a pot of soup. It was forgotten until the late evening, when Nai and Rev discovered it underneath a dishrag, and brought it to their father. The patriarch dropped the sauce-stained envelope into Talarin's lap without looking at the sender's seal.
At dawn the next day, I packed a straw hamper with bread, dried fish, matches, two blankets and my new book. I walked down to the river's edge and set myself afloat in a little rowboat Jann-Run had often used for fishing. A layer of ice had begun to form on the banks where the water was still, and I could see schools of little creatures darting to and fro beneath the transparent surface. Winter was an eerie season here, the short days as dim and silent as twilight. A gas lamp shed a cheery glow upon the pages and kept my hands warm while I read.
Korudsiki, called the demon-prince,
Born of the river spirit Mes-Dindala,
Was the nephew of the first king Korudo,
Who lived before men could write.
He stepped upon the green banks,
Emerged from the river fully formed,
A man as white and pure as foam,
His splendid limbs were dried by the sun.
'O my child, go to your uncle, the king,
tell him you have risen from Mes-Dindala,
the river in which his brother, the prince
had drowned a year since, while bathing'
I decided that the world must have been a very strange place before people could write. It seemed that people were conceived, born, and died all in the wrong order. Ordinary men had extraordinary powers, and the gods and demons, who were now silent observers, often interfered in the lives of mortals. In this century, they had grown bored of us, and we were left to create chaos among ourselves.
'His beautiful body fell to the bottom,
I saw that he had no breath,
I loved him in the darkness of the water,
And he could not escape my caresses.'
The barge ran aground about a quarter of a mile away from the borders of our property. The rapid formation of ice had lowered the level of the river by more than two feet, and the barge could go no further than the rocky beach owned by the Gisi, our neighbors to the north. I blew out the gas lamp and rowed slowly along the bank, hidden by thickets of dry reeds. Some of the Gisi had already gathered on the rocks overlooking the river, their bright woven scarves fluttering like war banners against the white sky.
Soon, Jann-Run and Talarin arrived to explain the situation to the crowd on the beach. The captain of the barge, whose face was hidden by a dark hood, spewed a series of vile-sounding words from high up on the deck. Frustrated, he disappeared through a trap door into the cargo hold.
A young woman wearing a man's fur hat approached Jann-Run.
"What business has this captain with you, neighbor?" She extended a small, gloved hand in greeting. Jann-Run, rather impolitely, did not take it.
" I would prefer to speak with your father or your elder brother, if they are at home," he said, crossing his arms.
" My father and brother suffer from an illness contracted on the front. They have entrusted me with the family's business matters for the time being." The woman withdrew her hand.
"We are simply repaying an outstanding debt to the Varasalixi, our long-time friends," said Jann-Run bluntly. " You should not be concerned."
"The Varasalixi are no friends of yours, or ours." The woman removed her hat. A long, straw-colored braid had been messily pinned into a knot at the top of her head, and was now falling to one side. Although she seemed to care little about her appearance, the woman's voice rang with confidence, lacking the sticky flirtatiousness that often coats the speech of young women. "I think your estate may be overdue for an inspection from the Office of Taxation. Unless, neighbor, you have some other explanation."
The woman smirked in an insincere and threatening manner. Jann-Run and Talarin exchanged glances nervously. Suddenly, she scowled. "My mother's cousin, the postmaster, has recently intercepted some interesting messages."
"So why ask, if you already know," grumbled Talarin, embarrassed.
Her expression softened." The Varasalixi are trouble, and if you are caught making illegal shipments, for whatever reason, all of your neighbors will be questioned as well. My father is too ill to deal with the government, and they will never agree to negotiate with me. "
"You have no legal claim to your father's title. If you are caught signing his contracts, you'll be jailed at the very least," snapped Jann-Run. The vindictive creature that stood before him hardly seemed female, and could not be the equal of any man as influential as her father.
" Finish this business quickly, and I will say that I know nothing of it." The woman turned to her relatives, huddled on the rocks, a safe distance away. "Go back to the house!" she shouted, shooing away the onlookers.
The woman faced Talarin and bowed. "I am Gisi Nittei-Axurha, and I temporarily represent the Gisi estate in Urmon." She extended her hand again. "I am very sorry that your engagement has been dissolved, but it is my hope that this incident will mark the beginning of a long and fruitful friendship between neighbors."
Talarin paused for a moment, wondering whether to ally himself with a woman who was openly hostile at one moment, and sympathetic the next. They shook hands, a traditional gesture of mutual trust. Jann-Run looked away and snorted audibly.
The crowd slowly dissolved, and I returned to my book.
Lightly like on the wind he flew,
To the house of King Korudo,
Who was so rich that it was said,
All he touched would turn to gold.
I ate the fish and the hard bread as the men made their way to the beach to load sacks of hulled xa'k kernels into the hold. Jann-Run counted each one, carving tally marks into the frozen clay on the bank. Thankfully, the events of the morning had distracted the adults, and Mama had not come looking for me.
In the orchards was a woman,
Dark and fragile as dust,
She plucked a fruit from the tree
Her dress was tangled in the branches
'O, how lovely are her limbs
Her wild hair is the color of night,
O, her eyes are intoxicating,
As the perfume of dew-soaked blossoms'
As the day wore on, the sun vanished behind a screen of gray, and the dead reeds began to crack and whistle in the wind. I lit a match and watched it burn to a blackened stub. The kerosene in the lantern had nearly run out, and I would have to return to the house before the barge departed. I decided that I would read another page, about a half-hour's effort, before I made a break for the foot of the hill.
Suddenly, I heard the captain shout, and I sprang up, clutching the book to my chest. The boat rocked nervously from side to side. If the weight of the hamper had not acted as a counterbalance, I would have toppled into the icy water. A stowaway had been discovered in one of the padlocked containers, and the activity on the beach slowed to a halt. There was some nervous chatter, and then an uncomfortable silence. The crowd parted, and in our midst stood my uncle's intended bride, no longer a name or a word, but a woman modeled after the beauties of legend and verse.
Kikivi-Yek's skin shone like the red-tinged peel of a ripe plum, smooth and unblemished as if she had been molded from colored glass. She wore a cloud of white fur, so thick and fine that its quality was evident even from the distance at which I stood. The long blue pleats of her dress drifted on the sand behind her, a luxurious and impractical garment that seemed garish beside the drab costumes of the crowd. If the Varasalixi had any gold left after their enterprise had been destroyed, Kikivi-Yek was likely wearing it on her wrists and on her neck. Soon, she would have to sell her valuables to pay her family's enormous debt.
Kikivi smiled vacantly at Talarin. " I had hoped that I would be disappointed, and would want to turn back. " she said. " But now that I have seen you, I have no wish to return to my father."
She looked upon Prince Korudsiki,
Saw the lustful darkness in his thoughts,
She feared him, but as flimsy paper,
Held to flame, was soon consumed
O, be wary of him, lady!
He is half-ghost, half-water!
Wisely, I tied off the boat, and fled as soon as Jann-Run's back was turned. Scurrying up the hill, I dropped my book, but did not dare return for it. I climbed the tree in front of the house, and pried the window open with my stiff fingers. When Mama came looking for me to help peel vegetables, I was sitting the in hall with a writing tablet and an empty mug of tea. I lied, and said that I had overslept.
That night, I was banished to the upstairs bedroom with Tsi and Kalis. The walls rattled with the vibrations of the argument in the kitchen below. We ate our dinner cross-legged on the floor, listening closely. The matter of the bride, the debt and the return of the barge had not yet been settled. I recognized the voice of the barge captain, who continued to spew colorful insults at both Nittei and the patriarch. A door slammed. Bump.Thump.Smack. A kettle was overturned. Ding.Rattle.Hiss. A plate shattered. Crack. And then there was silence.
Talarin did not return to our room, even after the argument had ended. I thought of the kitchen stove, still hot although the fire had been snuffed out some time ago. If I could warm my hands and feet, I would sleep more soundly. I climbed out of bed, careful not to wake my cousins, who were wrapped in a thick cocoon of mismatched comforters. Walking heel to toe to muffle the creak of the floorboards, I crept towards the darkened stairwell. I heard a distant cry, perhaps the sound of my brother waking from a nightmare or a pair of birds sparring on the roof.
At the foot of the stairs, I stopped.
Be wary of her, prince!
She is the daughter of the false king!
Among the shadows, my uncle's pale torso was tangled in a woman's arms, spindly and bare. Talarin's scarred hands seemed crude and ugly against her thighs as he pressed her hips against the wall. Kikivi's dark hair half-unpinned, fell over his shoulder, obscuring her face, but I knew her by the glint of her gold necklace against her breasts. An undignified moan escaped Talarin's lips as they rolled onto the floor together, limbs askew among the sharp fragments of broken dishes, crumbs and bruised vegetable skins.In the darkness, they were one monstrous form, a violent, primitive mass of flesh that heaved and fused without sense or shame.
I had been told about the relations between men and women, but to see it, to see Talarin in this manner, filled me with disgust. Here was my partner in innocent pretending, yielding to a creature who tempted him to act upon his most treacherous inclinations. Even though I was repulsed, I watched them until the wandering rays of the moon chased me into the stairwell.
I slept uneasily until noon. Jann-Run came to wake me after the barge had left with its cargo, the captain and its single passenger. The Gisi had successfully towed the vessel into deeper water, and the wind carried Kikivi-Yek back to her father as soon as it was bright enough to raise the sails for the trip downriver.
The Varasalixi had been cheated. Although they had retrieved their most precious asset, she could never again be used as a bargaining tool. The shipment of x'ak should have been doubled, or even tripled after the activities of the previous night, but I was too ashamed to tell the patriarch what I'd seen. In our attempt to distance ourselves from the Varasalixi, we had been thoroughly and unhappily bound to them instead.
Later in the day, I was sent to answer the kitchen door. Nittei-Axurha stood behind it, warming her hands with her breath. I invited her to come inside. Her dark eyes, which had been sharp and commanding on the beach, were thoughtful and brooding in the dancing light from the stove.
"Bidu!" I bowed politely, unsure of her intentions.
Nittei smiled, revealing a line of teeth that were just a bit crooked and stained, evidence of her preference for black tea. She produced The Deeds of Korudsiki from inside her coat.
" I think this belongs to you, " she said, touching the cover enviously.
I noticed a large silver seal ring on her second finger. The seal was a sunken image of a horned skull, upon which the name Gisi was engraved in reverse. I thought that it must have been her father's, for it was an ugly thing for a young woman to wear.
When she had gone, I opened the book to the page I had marked.
From the gods we cannot hide!
They see through the walls and in the mind,
The terrible things we dream and desire,
The secret things we keep and forget.