Naamah's Curse

THIRTY-EIGHT

True to Aleksei’s prediction, we reached a settlement along the Ude River by mid-day.

Setting aside our differences, we worked together to hone our plans. He estimated it would take two days to reach Udinsk. I couldn’t hold the twilight for both of us that long, not even close. But it was most important that the villagers in the settlement didn’t see me, that we didn’t leave behind rumors of a green-eyed witch.

So I would conceal myself while Aleksei sought to book passage for us. He was conspicuous too, but not as much as I was, with his half-Vralian features and his fluent tongue. When the time came to board the barge, I would swaddle myself in my scarf as best I could, keep my head low and myself largely silent. Aleksei would pass me off as his pilgrim bride, recently arrived in Vralia, unable to speak the language.

If the barge-hands suspected otherwise, so be it. At least we were carrying any rumors upriver, away from pursuit.

Gods be thanked, it worked.

Aleksei was beaming with pride when he came to fetch me out of concealment on the outskirts of town. “Moirin! Moirin?”

I let the twilight go.

He startled. “Yeshua have mercy! It’s unnerving when you do that. Moirin, I did it! I booked passage for us on a fur-trapper’s boat. It’s a bit smelly and it took every coin I had, but I did it.”

I smiled at him, genuinely pleased at his sense of pride. “Well done, my hero. See, you’ve a knack for this after all.”

Color crept into his cheeks. Stone and sea, I’d never known a man who blushed so easily! “It’s a foolish thing to be proud of, I know.”

“Aleksei, I wasn’t teasing.” I laid my hand against his warm cheek. “It’s a good plan, and I would never have thought of it. You were right; without you, I’d be in dire trouble.”

It wasn’t a pleasant journey. The boat was low and narrow, piled high with furs; and yes, they smelled, being scraped but uncured. The fur-trappers were taciturn fellows who concentrated on paddling, content to leave us alone except for stealing speculative glances at me from time to time. I strongly suspected Aleksei could have driven a harder bargain than he did, leaving us without coin.

I didn’t care.

We were on our way, headed east, outpacing any rumor of our presence. We had a little bit of bread and cheese left, and river water to drink. It wasn’t the cleanest, but neither of us took sick from it. We had the silver chains of my captivity hidden in our bundle, and I was hopeful that we could dispose of them in Udinsk.

I had to wear that bedamned head-scarf at all times and pretend to a modesty I didn’t possess, but I’d had a great deal of recent practice at it.

We were two and a half days on the river, and on the second day, Aleksei asked me about Bao. “I do not mean to pry, Moirin,” he said in a low, earnest voice. “But you’re the most unusual person I’ve ever met, and I cannot help but be curious what manner of man won your heart.”

“Oh…” I sighed. “A rather infuriating one. And whether or not he’s won my heart is a matter of debate. We’re still working on that part. What is certain is that he carries half of my diadh-anam inside him.”

Aleksei’s blue eyes widened. “Your soul-spark from your bear-goddess?”

“You were listening!”

He smiled faintly. “You were willing to die for it, Moirin. Yes, I was listening. I am trying to understand.”

So I told him about Bao-not the sordid details his uncle would have extracted, but the deeper truth. How Master Lo’s magpie and I had forged a friendship that had begun tipping toward love, stymied by the dragon’s jealousy. How Bao had died, and how Master Lo had given his own life and taken half of my diadh-anam to restore him. How he had left, and I had gone after him, crossing the vast steppe to find him.

Unlike his uncle, Aleksei listened without judgment. “And then we took you away from him,” he said when I had finished.

“Aye,” I murmured. “And the Great Khan sent him off in the opposite direction.”

He touched my cheek, brushing away tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. It’s a very sad story.” He offered me another faint smile. “No wonder you were looking forward to a great love story in the scripture. You’re living in one, Moirin.”

I wiped my eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. You would probably not say that if you ever met Bao.”

“I’d like to,” Aleksei said, surprising me. “He sounds… fearless. Interesting. Maybe even a match for you. You said you were worried about him. Why?”

My gaze turned unerringly south, drawn as though by a lodestone. “I don’t know. Something’s wrong. His diadh-anam burns too low. And he hasn’t moved since you took my chains off,” I added. “He should have been able to sense my presence for days now. If he isn’t coming toward me, something’s keeping him from it.”

“You’re that sure of him?”

I nodded. “Bao had made his choice, and he’s infernally stubborn. I’m sure.”

Aleksei laced his hands around one knee. “That’s why you were so determined to go south.”

“Aye.”

“I’ll see that you do,” he said in a firm voice. “I’ll do my best to make good on the debt you’re owed for the suffering we caused you. And I swear… I swear on my honor, I will not accept your offer.”

I stared at him. “Naamah’s blessing? Why ever not?”

He blinked. “Well… it would be dishonorable, obviously.”

“No. Oh, no.” I shook my head. “Naamah’s blessing is a separate matter, and it has nothing to do with my relationship with Bao. Refuse it if you wish, but not on those grounds. I do not accept your promise.”

“Yes, but-”

“Besides,” I added, overriding him, “Bao is the one who ran off and married a Tatar princess, so he hardly has reason to object.”

It was Aleksei’s turn to stare. “He what?”

I’d skipped over that part. “Oh, yes. That’s why the Great Khan was so eager to sell me into captivity and send Bao in the opposite direction. He was avenging a slight to his daughter’s honor. And I do not blame him for being angry, but it was a rather extreme response if you ask me.”

Aleksei gave his head a bewildered shake. “Moirin, I swear, the more I try to understand you, the less I do.”

“I know, sweet boy.” I patted his hand. “I told you, if you choose to accept Naamah’s blessing, you will understand a great deal more.” Regarding his troubled face, I softened my voice. “It is more than carnal congress, Aleksei-so much more. We are both Naamah’s children, you and I. It is a sacrament I offer to you. Whether or not you wish to accept it is entirely up to you.”

“It just seems so messy and complicated.” He sounded dubious.

“It is.” I leaned back against a bale of fur. “The affairs of humanity tend to be messy and complicated. And at the same time, it’s the simplest thing in the world.” I remembered the look of wonder that had dawned on Snow Tiger’s face when Naamah had taken her fears away, and smiled to myself. When all was said and done, I was glad I had kept that memory private. “It is a wondrous grace.”

“What do you want me to do?”

I let my gaze linger on Aleksei’s face, on his rugged cheekbones and full lips, on his eyes the color of rain-washed speedwell blossoms. “I spoke the truth when I said it is a gift I would like to give you. But you cannot do it for my sake, Aleksei, no more than you can refuse it for Bao’s. We are speaking of divine grace. It is your birthright as a child of Naamah’s line, and it is her blessing that you refuse or accept.”

He did understand then. “Just as you refused Yeshua’s blessing.”

I nodded. “Even so.”

We spoke no more of the matter that day. The choice facing Aleksei had been cast in stark terms at last. At last, he had begun to understand that I was what I was, that I would never be what he wanted me to be. He understood that I offered what I could, no more and no less, and that I would leave him to seek Bao as soon as possible.

Usually, my instincts were good, but I had no idea what Aleksei would choose. He had been raised from birth to believe Naamah’s gift was a curse, and Naamah was the whore-temptress who led Blessed Elua into apostasy.

There was nothing I could say to him to counter that belief. Faith cannot be proved, else it would not be faith. It can only be experienced. Whether or not Aleksei would allow himself to experience it, I could not say.

In truth, I did not even know which choice was right for him. He was a child of Naamah’s line and he carried her gifts in his flesh and blood; but in his soul, he was a child of the One God and Yeshua, and no mistaking it. What I thought would bring healing to the damaged part of his spirit might well prove damaging in a different way if it strained and broke the covenant he knew so well and loved so deeply.

I hoped not, but it was possible.

In the scripture, the One God makes it clear that he is a jealous god; indeed, it is the first commandment he inscribed in stone on Moishe’s tablets: I am the Lord your God, and you shall have no other gods before me.

And yet was that so different from the truth the Maghuin Dhonn Herself inscribed in the very souls of Her children, written in the living fire of divinity? I didn’t know, but I didn’t think so.

In every part of me, I knew it was true; I could set no other gods above Her, not without killing the divine spark within me. But nor did She begrudge me my heritage as Naamah’s child. So long as I knew myself a child of the Maghuin Dhonn, She was content to allow me to worship others alongside Her.

If Aleksei chose to accept my offer, I hoped he would find that when freed from the tyranny of mortal men, their ambitions, and the harsh strictures they sought to set upon the nature of love and pleasure, the love of God and his son Yeshua was as vast, generous, and all-encompassing as that of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, my infinite bear-goddess whose worship was so often met with incredulity.

But I wasn’t sure.