
by
Frelga » Mon Oct 11, 2004 8:53 pm
My memory kept no trace of the hours that followed. I learned afterwards how Tamiko went to get help and found the men of her family, not far below on the trail. They carried Behoe and me down to his house in Aksu. Three of our best healers came there, and the battle to keep us alive was as fierce as the one I had fought. The three old women stayed the flow of blood and beat the fever down; they forced broth through Behoe’s torn, swollen lips; they set my broken arm and fitted the ripped flesh together.
My parents came to stay with me, and so did Givi’s sister Nureli. Her aunt was one of the three healers, and Nureli was learning from her. She was a round-faced, cheerful girl, as ready to song as her brother. As a healer, she was relentless, never letting my pain and weakness get in her way, rubbing, flexing, tending my left arm, and brushing off tears when she thought I was not looking.
At last I was well enough to ride home. But first I was to go to Gingush, to be a guest of honor at the last wedding of the year. Tamiko would become Behoe’s wife and leave me free to marry whom I will. I was glad for them both. Or would have been, except for a dull ache behind my ribs that could not be blamed on the veshapi.
The rains had started in earnest by then, but the morning of the feast was dry and grey. In the dull light, Nureli and Givi sat with me by the cooking fire. Givi supported my injured arm over a bowl while his sister poured herbed water over my scars. I watched the play of firelight on Nureli’s cheek, because I could not yet bear to look at my hand and the jagged scars where two of my fingers had been.
“I still think Tamiko is a fool,” Nureli said fiercely, but her hand was gentle as she touched an unscarred patch on my arm.
Givi saw that and laughed. "See how my sister has grown? She will dance the Round Dance next Sunswing, if you can believe that. Come spring, I will be looking for a brother-in-law."
Nureli gasped and covered her face with her hand. "Givi!" she cried, splashing cool water over the three of us.
“Let’s get moving, then,” I said quickly.
My finest clothes were laid out for me - the shirt embroidered with red and black, the new burka deep black with gold braiding at the throat. I needed help getting into them, as on my left hand even the three remaining fingers barely flexed. At least there won’t be too many guests to see me, I thought. Few would want to brave the rain-scored road to Gingush this late in the year.
To my surprise, people sat shoulder to shoulder at the long tables, and more were still riding up. The news had spread of the slain veshapi, who had already killed three men, and the Three Mountains were grateful for the danger averted.
It seemed a long way to the head table where I was to sit, and a long, long time since the feast at Lykhnasta, where I had last seen most of the guests. People called to me, and surrounded me, with smiles and praises. I pulled on the fabric of my sling to cover the mangled hand, and tried not to wince at friendly embraces that always seemed to seek out painful spots in my left side.
At last the couple appeared, with their families and the Elders. Behoe’s face was still half-covered with bandages, which served more to hide his scars than any real need. And Tamiko, so radiant that it seemed the light of her eyes sparkled on silver chains and coins jingling in her unbraided hair. I wanted to look away and could not take my eyes off her.
The vows were given, the blessings offered, the songs done. Horns of wine were passed around the table. And then Givi stepped forward, and stood behind the head table, and raised his hand for silence.
He waited a moment for the talk to stop. Then he began, in his gentle voice that deepened and rang out as the song unfolded. My breath caught and fell into rhythm with the melody. Givi crafted my tale into a song as simple and enduring as a silver ring. Whatever was to become of me after this would no longer matter. My name would be remembered, not because of anything I did, but because of this song.
I clenched my teeth, and stared straight ahead of me, and thought furious thoughts about my friend. In the song, two mighty rivals met in fierce combat for the right to marry the beautiful Tamiko. Radesh won the match, but Behoe won the girl's heart. I knew how Givi loved his tales of impossible loves, but did he really have to talk about my jealous rage?
Then he got to the battle with the veshapi, and it was glorious. Both men were great heroes, but I came out looking better, because Givi was my friend, and because it was my sword in the veshapi’s throat. And Tamiko was as beautiful and fearless in the song as in life, when she looked the veshapi in the eyes and loosed a sure arrow.
As soon as courtesy permitted, which was a good while later, I got away from the table to look for Givi. The singer was now the center of a large crowd, and received as much praise and attention as the newlyweds themselves. I made my way through to him, and took him firmly by the arm.
“What have you done, Givi?” I demanded, struggling to keep my voice low.
“Why? Don’t you like the song?”
“Like it? Of course I like it. This song will travel from hill to hill as long as the mountains stand. It touches the heart, it makes me laugh, and it almost made me cry over my own fate. But Givi, what you say about me... none of that is true!”
My friend looked down at me from the sun-filled skies where he soared.
"It is true now," he replied.
THE END
Last edited by
Frelga on Wed Oct 13, 2004 10:13 am, edited 1 time in total.