Courtship Rite

30

RELAYS OF IVIETH kept the palanquin moving at a run. Gaet remained awake on this last lap of their journey, though Oelita dozed beside him. He held her and let her sleep against his shoulder. The White Wound was behind them and they were back on the staggering road, sometimes passing one of the strange skrei-wheels. It was over his shoulder, after a jolt, that she first opened her eyes and saw Kaiel-hontokae spread across the rolling hills. The city seemed enormous to her if only because of the size of the aqueducts that marched toward its distant roofs.

When they arrived, Oelita thought she should be happy, but she became sick with fear in the maze of buildings, broad streets, stairways, and alleys that turned her around so badly she was dizzy. It did not even smell like sea-perfumed Sorrow, this slight tang of urine and decay. The fear was worse than before. She trusted Gaet, yes, but all about her the Kaiel were swarming like the tiny halieth fliers that rose from their acres of burrows during mating day. In all her life she had never imagined such a city! There were many clans she did not recognize, angular faces, costumes, types.

Their palanquin passed a market of stalls larger than the market at Sorrow and still the city went on. Palaces, temples, apartments, hovels, hives, factories, stalls, mansions, parks. Gaet stopped their hurry once to indulge her, telling the Ivieth to wait. The inside of the building he showed her was full of printing presses spewing out pages. A boy passed with a cartload of books for the bindery. It made her feel lost. She would be lost in all that printed chatter and no one would ever hear her voice. Once she glanced around and Gaet was gone. She panicked but he appeared again almost immediately with two cups.

“A little juice for us. We deserve it.”

She sipped while they continued. The hill of mansions which held Gaet’s home on one of its winding streets amazed her. She had not realized he was rich. Strange emotions were overtaking her. She felt like bowing at his feet — and she never grovelled before anyone! With effort she kept her head erect. It did not suit her image of herself to be so awed by splendor. He took her by an arm through the massive wooden door into the inner patio. She had never seen such luxury outside of a temple. It could almost be a place of Ritual Suicide.

He cocked an ear. “I think we have this mausoleum to ourselves.” Then he raised his voice. A great warble came out of his mouth that would have carried across a mountain valley. He cocked his ear again. “Even the servants are out. Well, let me offer you Greetings.”

“I’m most honored to be your guest.” She bowed and smiled at him.

They heard footsteps. “Gaet! You brought her!”

“My one-wife Noe,” he announced, “taking her time as usual.”

Oelita bowed stiffly.

“So you are the one who has been causing us so much excitement.”

“Isn’t she a feast for an empty stomach?” he extolled.

“One-husband has a vulgar sense of humor,” answered Noe warmly.

“Hoemei must come home tonight if we can reach him.”

Noe’s eyes twinkled. “We may never see him again. He has been caught by one of Aesoe’s Liethe.”

“God’s Leer!” roared Gaet. “Hoemei? You can’t be right! Is he sexing her?”

“He’s been suggesting some very strange positions to me in our recent lovemaking.”

“I’ll have to go over to the Palace and fetch him after our bath.” Gaet was laughing. “Rescue him is more like it.”

“Who are these Liethe?” asked Oelita. “I’ve seen them following our Stgal at five paces, but I know nothing about them.”

“The Stgal they would follow at five paces. Anything to please a priest.” Noe’s voice held veiled contempt for a woman who would try to please a man who would require her to walk behind him. “For our men they dance naked.”

“Only when we least expect it,” insisted Gaet defensively. “The last time I was at an Aesoe party they danced the Sunset for us and I don’t think we got to see a thumbnail’s flash of skin!”

“But you looked!” teased Noe. She turned to Oelita and explained. “The Liethe Sunset dance begins with the dancers in pale blue. They change costumes on stage, with a magician’s cleverness, so that you are never fast enough with the eye to see how they do it. The costumes go from sky blue to yellows, to oranges and brilliant streaming reds, then fade to purple and finally spangled black. The men, of course, jockey for position to steal what glimpses of flesh there are. If all he saw” — she poked her husband with an elbow — “was a thumbnail-sized patch of breast or thigh, poor Gaet got the worst of the jockeying.”

“One of these days,” said Gaet darkly, “I’m going to sell you to the Liethe.”

“No you won’t! You love me too much. Besides they wouldn’t buy me. The Liethe bodies are undecorated.”

“They might need you for leather and soup.”

“The Liethe don’t scar their bodies?” Oelita was scandalized. “And they show themselves to men like that?”

“It is a wicked city, my little coastal barbarian.” He turned to Noe. “Do we have hot water?”

“Come with me. You’re both filthy.”

The bath house was already steaming. Oelita marveled that pipes brought the hot water to the raised stone tub. Gaet was smiling broadly. “I’m relaxed already,” he said dipping his finger into the water while Noe began to pull off his boots.

It was almost frightening for Oelita to undress in such luxury — as if this were to be the final bath. The room was entirely done in tiles of earthy browns with a rough texture that promised safety even with soap underfoot. The pipes were burnished bronze. There was a huge carved kaiel to hold the towels, its hontokae inlaid in gold. Oelita, trembling, began to disrobe.

But she stopped in embarrassment when Gaet signaled covertly that she was breaking ritual. These Kaiel! she thought furiously. Do their rituals never end! She was ashamed that she was ashamed, that she did not know the ritual. Noe had not noticed her mistake.

“Guests do not undress themselves,” whispered Gaet, coming to help her with gentle hands.

“You have fine artists on the coast,” Noe said, admiring the lines which enhanced the womanliness of Oelita’s body.

Noe had shampoos ready, and perfumes, and delicate soaps made from rare beetle oils, and sponges of a scrubby texture so delightful that Oelita vowed she was going to abduct one. Noe took great familiarities with her husband’s body and when he tried to sass her she stuffed soap in his mouth so that his laughter produced a shower of bubbles. Oelita felt put out, cut off, watching them. Noe was his wife, for sure, but she, Oelita, was his lover!

She did not care what the rituals were! She took a sponge and began to wash Gaet herself. He was hers, too! Noe took no offense but transferred her attentions to Oelita. The washing was a casual caress, an easy intimacy. Noe even kissed her lightly on the back of the neck. It was a strange feeling. She felt shared.

She had thought once of marrying a man. She had had many lovers, more than she could remember, but her relationships were all one to one, as if she had somehow never left her adolescence. I’m too much of a loner. She was enjoying being shared. It made her feel part of everything. For too long she had struggled in her outside world, even though the struggle had been rewarding.

She was almost not scrubbing him now. She was touching him with her fingers. She smiled at him the smile she used to seduce men and then looked out the corner of her eyes to see if Noe watched. Noe was watching, and Noe smiled at her glance in a way that seemed to say: don’t we have a nice man? For the first time in her life Oelita smiled at a woman with the smile she used to seduce men, and felt confusion. Noe responded by washing her face. I wonder who he’ll sleep with tonight, me or her?

“It took you all long enough to get here!” said Hoemei coming through the threshold. He picked up a sponge. “I can see these women are being too gentle.” And he began to scrub his brother. “Let’s see if we can get some of the stink off you. Silence of God, where have you been!”

“We went over the White Wound. A roundabout way to boil potato soup.”

“You what? You let him take you there?” Hoemei stared at Oelita in astonishment. “The last time we went over the White Wound there were ten of us who set out and only seven of us who came back. That ordeal by climbing terrified me to the roots of my hair. Of the seven of us, only Joesai has ever dared go back.”

“We were babies then. I got the itch.”

“Do you know Joesai?” Oelita asked warily.

“Same creche,” Hoemei laughed. “He’s been giving you trouble?”

“Yes!”

“I just got a report on him today. From Soebo.”

Noe froze. “Go on!” She breathed once, heavily. “He’s dead?”

“He’s not in Soebo.”

“And Teenae?” Noe was anxious.

“Not a word.”

“You love them, don’t you?” said Oelita accusingly. “He’s your friend!”

“Sometimes,” said Noe, wryly.

“Sometimes,” said Hoemei, laughing.

“Hardly ever,” said Gaet with a straight face.

They were making fun of her! She didn’t like private jokes when her life was at stake! She made waves in the tub and tried to step out, but Noe and Gaet held her while Hoemei poured a jug of rinse water over her head.

Then he brought a thick towel and began to wrap and pat her dripping body. “We have much to talk about,” he said. “I’ve been charged with organizing coastal relief.”

“Gaet told me. I didn’t want to meet you with my hair stringy like this.”

“I’ll remember to revise my first impressions tomorrow. May I keep this impression in a special place?” He let the towel fall off her shoulders so that he could see her.

“I can dry myself!” she answered, clutching at the towel. “You’re being very bold with your hands and your eyes.”

“Something that’s come over me lately.”

“The sweet flatteries of a Liethe to swell your manly ego?” suggested Oelita coyly.

“God’s Teeth, you’re as bad a tease as Noe!”

Noe returned with fresh clothes. For Gaet she carried an aery robe, embossed with vines, for Oelita a shimmeringly silken garment, white. “This is a favorite of Gaet’s. Come. I’ll take you upstairs. I have everything a woman needs.”

“Meet us in my room,” said Hoemei. “It’s the cleanest. Gaet and I will put together a snack.”

Amidst green bottles of oil and boxes of perfume sticks and piles of stitching for a quilt, Noe did Oelita’s hair and dressed her. “How can I wear this?” exclaimed Oelita. She adored the ruffles, but the gown was split up the sides, all the way, and split down the back and the front, all the way. It hid nothing. She would have felt more comfortable had she been nude.

“I’ve worn it in the street,” said Noe.

“You didn’t!”

“At night,” Noe admitted, grinning.

“If I’m going to wear this, you have to wear something provocative too.”

“No. I’m too lazy to change. And it’s too late. The food is ready.”

Oelita hesitated. “Noe, tell me. Am I in danger here?”

“For your life? No. For your soul? Yes.”

“If I ever offend you, tell me first before you act, please.”

“I’m known to be blunt.”

“Am I intruding on you? I mean with Gaet?”

“Little barbarian, we’re looking for a new woman. We had one but these things sometimes are poured into a cracked cup. You’re very welcome to share whatever I have as long as you feel the same with me.” She kissed Oelita on the cheek and took her hand.

And so the evening went, with a wild game of kol that had the men screeching and Noe laughing at Oelita’s unorthodox play. No one could understand why she was beating them. Gael sat beside her on the pillows, affectionately caressing her from time to time through the convenient slits. She accused him of trying to throw her play. They talked about art in the city, and Noe promised to take her to the Chanting for which Kaiel-hontokae was famous. When the candles were near to burning out, Noe began to undo a few of the clasps that held Oelita’s garment together so that Gaet could fondle her more easily.

So, she’s going to give him to me tonight. Oelita wanted him. He was the only security she had against a rising panic. She had to have him, so knowing she was going to get him relaxed her, and her erotic warmth began to grow. But Noe took Gaet with her and they said goodnight at the door, leaving Oelita half undressed on Hoemei’s bed.

“We could go to your room,” he said ambiguously, implying both that he was willing to abide by her rules and that he desired to be with her.

She trembled. She did not want to be alone and she did not want to stay with a stranger. She tried to read the soul of Gaet’s co-husband, searching his face.

“You’re welcome to stay,” he said.

“For a little while. You have a cozy room.”

“It’s strange to meet you,” he said.

“I’m all disarrayed,” she replied. Hoemei was handsome in the candlelight. Was he being shy now? He had been so bold earlier. I should do it, she thought. If she just pretended she was part of a Four, and that what was happening, happened every sleep cycle, what could go wrong? She was extraordinarily curious about marriage. In any event, she needed to bond Hoemei to her, if what Gaet said about him was true.

He sat beside her and touched her shoulder. She could feel the affection. He spoke. “It takes time to know another. There’s no hurry.”

She could love a man who created no pressure. “I’ll stay.” He was undressing, putting things away neatly, a compulsive man. “Hoemei? Do you love Noe?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love your Liethe creature?”

“Now that you mention it.”

“Do you like me a little?”

“I was smitten at first sight.”

“Help me off with this lethal recessive of a dress, but remember I’m not ready for anything.” She knew she was both pushing him away and pulling him toward her. His hands came to her aid but she did most of the work herself with such haste that she tore a clasp. And so they lay beside each other, naked, not touching. It was curious. The flame made great leaps and flickers and died. The silence upset her in this city far from the comfort of any friend. She needed contact and she was afraid of touch. “Hoemei, what is your price for helping us on the coast?” Words, even intellectual words of great moment, were touches — in a way.

“Do you know our form of government?”

“The Kaiel are the hereditary leaders. The usual. I don’t approve. I think other clans should have political duties, too.”

“It is not as simple among us. When we go to the coast we won’t be distributing food through the Stgal. We’ll send in priests. Whoever of your people likes an individual priest pledges to him and the priest contracts to help him.”

“The Stgal will object.”

“The Stgal will have no say, having been bypassed. Suppose I sign up your people and supply them with food. Then they are no longer in the kalothi chain of the Stgal temples; they are in the kalothi chain of my temple.”

“And the price?”

“It is an exchange. We are problem-solvers. What is the solution of your problems worth to you?”

“I’ll give you a problem to solve.”

“Women are good at that.” He brought his face close to hers in the dark until they could feel each other’s breath.

“Cannibalism!” She bit his nose gently, just so he didn’t get too close.

“Ouch. That’s not the problem.”

“It is!”

“Meat is the solution to a problem and you don’t like the solution. It is said that you are anti-tradition.”

“I hate ritual!”

“Tradition is a set of solutions for which we have forgotten the problems. Throw away the solution and you get the problem back. Sometimes the problem has mutated or disappeared. Often it is still there as strong as it ever was. Geta is a harsh planet. It kills us. We do better when ritual is in control of Death.”

“Rock in the Sky! I’m tired of hearing that!”

“The Kavidie priests were vegetarians.”

“You fling myth at me to prove your point!”

“The Kavidie are myth only because they are long dead. They lived among the Red Death Hills of the Far Side and commanded twice as much territory as the Kaiel do today. I’ve seen their flaking books in the library. They were real.”

“We’re just talking because we are afraid of each other. Why don’t we just shut up and you can hug me and I’ll hug you.” She put an arm across his neck, and shoved his head until their noses touched.

“Where did you learn to win arguments?” he asked.

“No last words!” And she was hugging him. “You have such big ears. I could get lost in them. What does a wife whisper in a husband’s ear?”

“Usually she tells him to shut up!”

She kissed him, wondering about the trace of restraint she felt from him. “In case you didn’t know, I’m ovaet,” she whispered to reassure him.

“Ah,” he said, reassured. The ovaet was a genetic trait possessed by four out of five Getan women that allowed a woman to self-abort if she did not wish a conception to take.

“When I’m on the pillows with a gentle man like you, being ovaet makes it easier to keep my vow never to be a mother again. I would have difficulty being celibate.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “I can feel your concern. It’s nice.”

“Aesoe never told me that they taught barbarians how to flatter a man.”

“Barbarian! We call you people The Hill Barbarians,” she retaliated. “Do you want to hear a Kaiel joke?”

“I’ve heard it.”

“Why does a Kaiel take his sandals off before entering his house?”

“You got me.”

“So he won’t get them dirty!”

He cuffed her. They were already lost in the pleasure of their lovemaking. She bet herself that Hoemei would go to sleep as soon as they peaked and he did while Oelita stared at his dark image, wide-eyed, smiling, with her head in her hands and her elbows embedded in the pillows. She decided that she liked to play at being married. She had two men now who loved each other and were bonded to her. Two men in a strange and hostile city were always better than one. Under the quilt next to her body, the hot warmth of him was safety. If he loves me, he’ll save my people.

She dreamed that her body was illustrated with shifting tattoos and that great scholars came to study her both by sunlight and by candlelight and went away shaking their heads in wonderment. She took her message to the catacombs, to evil cities on the other side of Geta, and through the temples and into the hells of the desert. The desert was hot, boiling her in her skin while the tattoos shifted. Moaning, she worked her way out of the quilt and let the breeze evaporate the sweat from her, then dozed back to sleep, holding Hoemei.

The dreams went on, mutating. Her body began to tell lighter stories, frivolous ones even, stories of casual love and humor. She snuggled up to her man. He was patting her buttocks affectionately, and she reached around to stop him, half awake now, and the hands were not Hoemei’s hands. They were big and hairy. She was screaming before she was half awake, trying to drag herself against the wall away from the huge monster.

“Where did you get such a beautiful bum?” said the monster.

“Oelita!” said a tiny Teenae in the doorway, round-eyed.

Oelita didn’t stop screaming. Hoemei had her in his arms by now, comforting her. “It’s only Joesai.” He was stunned. Teenae was hugging him and squeezing him. “It’s me! Remember me! I came back! And I love you and am I glad to see you!” The screams brought Gaet and Noe flying out of their bed to collide with Teenae, who had heard them coming. Teenae clamped her arms on Gaet’s neck while her feet crawled up around his hips to grab him vicelike in their embrace. “My beloved lost lover!” she crooned. “Aw, Teenae!” he said happily. Hoemei was bawling in relief. Joesai and Noe just stood grinning in the middle of the chaos. Oelita, backed against the wall in shock, holding the quilt to her breast, tried to understand the revelation that these people comprised a single family. In avoiding Joesai her terror had taken her straight to his co-husbands and here she was thrown into this room with him and there was no more safety.