Doubly Married #3
The father of the bride was supposed to pass his daughter formally to the groom at this point, but Tirtu had made no move to do this, so Vanu covered the distance between himself and Lill in a few strides and offered his hand again. After a moment, Lill took it and gripped it, oddly tightly.
“Be no longer the son of Tirtu but the bride of Vanu!” Padunu declaimed.
“In the sight of the ancestors and the spirits of the earth and sky, in the eye of the Blue Heaven, be as Tu and Naturi, united as one!” He had thrown up his arms, looking toward the grey sky in a dramatic pose, which he held for a few moments.
Then he dropped it and said in a normal voice, “Now Halza has some more rituals for you to do. Is everything ready for that, Halza?”
Lill was leaning slightly against Vanu at this point, as if he was trying hard not to need support but couldn’t quite stay on his feet without it.
Vanu tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed.
All the same, he was very tempted to tell Tirtu he was taking his bride home, and the wedding could finish without them.
He and Lill were married now. Did they have to be doubly married?
Did it matter to Lill whether they were married in the manner of his people as well as Vanu’s?
Mikhi had reported that he hadn’t seemed to care when she’d talked to him.
But it turned out that lowland wedding ceremonies took place with everyone sitting on the ground (or, as it was supposed to be done, inside the bride’s family’s house), so he decided they might as well go through with it.
He retrieved the apple from Atari, and as he knelt beside Lill in front of the tray of spices and candles and lowland odds and ends, and Halza recited some confusing Zashian prayers, Vanu got out his knife and cut wedges off the apple and passed them discreetly to Lill, who took them and nibbled them methodically under his veil.
Maybe he hadn’t eaten anything that morning and had been faint with hunger.
Vanu felt as if he was being rather a good husband so far.
In fact, there was a bit of the lowland wedding ceremony where they were supposed to break off pieces of the misshapen loaf of bread in front of them and offer them to each other.
There was another part where they took sips from a cup of some drink that Vanu thought would be wine but was instead something syrupy sweet.
It was supposed to signify a sweet life together, which he rather liked.
During the last lot of prayers, at Halza’s instruction, Tirtu and Gurti looped a length of braided yellow rope around and between the two of them and tied it in the middle with an elaborate knot—so elaborate that they had to try twice before they got it right.
After that, apparently, Vanu and Lill were officially married. Again.
Gurti unpicked the knot and disentangled them from the rope, and Vanu’s girls came over with the rose biscuits that they had made.
They stood smiling at Lill and offering the plate of biscuits, looking shy, even Mikhi.
Lill dropped a wobbly but very correct curtsy.
Atari clapped her hands and made a noise of delight.
Lill took a biscuit in under his veil and nibbled it.
Vanu took a biscuit too, trying not to look wary.
There had been a lot of discussion about these biscuits; nobody knew how to make them, and Halza’s description of what they were supposed to be like, as translated by Tirtu, was not very helpful.
In the end, the girls had put some dried rose petals and beetroot juice into their regular biscuit dough, and the result was vaguely pink and floral tasting. Vanu quite liked them.
Now Halza was trying to get everyone to form up into a procession. What was this about? Should he veto it? Oh right, they were just walking to Vanu’s house. He would allow that; it shouldn’t be too hard on Lill, and afterward they would be able to sit again for a proper meal.
Padunu came to Halza’s aid with his self-important shaman voice and got all the hearing members of the party to pay attention.
Gurti gathered Susami and Atari. Halza was singing some song about wedding blessings—ah, apparently they were all supposed to join in the chorus.
Certainly that would not be happening. Khatu and Barda were managing to make the very polite Zashian lyrics about marriage sound lewd.
Vanu offered a hand to Lill, and they joined the end of the procession, both of them silent.
They walked the short distance from the gathering place to the front door of Vanu’s house, between the doorposts that had been stained yellow with turmeric early that morning.
Wooden charms and dried herbs hung above the door, and a pinecone torch had been set in a stand to one side.
“My lord,” said Gurti quietly, touching Vanu’s arm, as Padunu began yet another incantation, “please do not be angry with them, but Tirtu and Halza have done something.”
He looked at her sharply.
“They meant well, my lord—they thought it would help the boy. They lit some of the shaman’s incense—Padunu was furious about it—it isn’t meant to be used by the uninitiated.
They gave it to Lill. I’m afraid, under his veil, he’d have got quite a headful of it.
” She winced. “I am sorry, my lord—if I had known what they were doing … ”
He looked at Lill standing next to him, soldiering his way through their extra-long wedding under the influence of some shamanic drug that might be making him see spirits for all anyone knew. Heart of the Blue Heaven.
“Thank you for telling me,” he signed to Gurti. He caught Padunu’s eye and made a “wrap it up” gesture.
When the rituals at the groom’s house were over, Vanu put his hand on Lill’s back and felt him stiffen briefly.
But the boy let himself be guided back toward the gathering place, where he sat down on one of the benches next to Vanu.
Tirtu and Halza and the Gukhártu boys were all bringing out the second wedding feast, consisting mostly of the sausages and ham and Barda’s venison.
It was early afternoon, but with the cold, cloudy sky, it could have been any time of day.
The feast would normally have taken place later, because there would have been other things to do: visiting the graves of the bride and groom’s families to offer drink and flowers, perhaps some travel if the couple came from different villages—and the bride hunt would ordinarily have taken longer too.
One of the parts of the wedding that Vanu had always liked was when the bride got up at the feast and recited one of the traditional poems in honour of her husband.
Usually it was just a conventional poem about married life, but sometimes the bride or her family would have chosen to go out on a limb.
Once he’d heard the bride of an old goldsmith recite a poem about a young hero, and there had been hoots of laughter.
Akhanu Uru’s new wife had stood up and declaimed a passage from the Durunda Mari about a famous peacemaker, which had sent a clear message.
Of course he hadn’t expected his own bride to do any such thing, even before Lill was ambushed with Padunu’s incense. It wasn’t a custom in the lowlands. Their brides remained veiled and silent through the whole wedding, oddly hidden in the middle of a celebration that revolved around them.
He sent Khatu to fetch water for Lill, because he shouldn’t be drinking wine or even beer on top of whatever was in that incense.
He wanted to ask what Lill liked to eat, how he was feeling, any number of things, but it was much easier to remain silent, watching him and offering a bit of everything on the table whenever he had finished what was in front of him.
Halza was singing again, in one of the older languages of the lowlands, one Vanu didn’t know.
How many generations ago had the people of the valleys spoken only their own language?
What had they called themselves before they became the Zashian province of Akramarra?
Vanu didn’t know. Halza was a good singer, and Vanu liked this song even if he didn’t understand the words.
The lowlander sang with feeling, pouring his heart into the notes.
Maybe it was about rescuing a beautiful maiden from her evil father. Should someone tell him that Susami was deaf? Surely he would work that out for himself. She was sitting there speaking hand language with her sisters.
Halza had finished his song, and suddenly Vanu realized that Lill was getting to his feet. Automatically, Vanu put out a hand to help him, and Lill grasped it. Then, to Vanu’s surprise, he gathered his skirt in the other hand and climbed onto the bench.
He had everyone’s attention as he stood up on the bench, letting go of Vanu’s hand, and tossed back his veil.
“I am going to recite something, as is the custom,” he announced.
He spoke Zashian, and Vanu was struck by the beauty of his voice, its low tone dry as a carpet of pine needles on a forest floor.
Vanu looked up at the side of his bride’s face as Lill began to speak, and he wondered what he looked like himself in that moment, whether it seemed to anyone watching that now two men had fallen in love at this wedding.
That wasn’t true, of course. Vanu had been in love since that moment under the tree five days ago when the world had seemed to fade out of importance around his bride. He could see that now.
“This is the record of the Twenty-One Martial Virtues as laid down by Master Tanis of Shing … ”