Leslie Moore - Griffin's Daughter

“ Aye, that we do,” the second added. “We was both young and unmarried once!” The men scrambled to open the gate, just wide enough for Magnes to ride through.

“ Will ye be back before or after sunrise, sir?”

“ After, most definitely,” Magnes replied. He could hear the guards snickering as the gate swung shut.

The night engulfed him, warm and very dark. He had only the light of the stars to see by. Once again, Magnes found himself leaving Amsara in the dead of night with virtually nothing, except that this time, he was the fugitive. The horse proved to be sure-footed and steady as they wound their way down the steep switchbacks and into Amsara village.

Just as he had two days ago, he took the track that skirted the village and ended up on the road that led past the homestead of Livie’s parents, the road that would eventually take him all the way to Darguinia, city of the Emperors. A man could lose himself among the multitudes there, shed an old identity, and invent a new one.

All around him, the darkness hummed, alive with the sounds of a late summer country night. A soft breeze tickled the nape of his neck, still wet with the sweat of shock and fear. Loneliness, dense and heavy, settled over him.

He burst into tears and wailed like a child.

"Is she not the most magnificent woman in all of Alasiri, Little Brother?” Sadaiyo drawled, eyeing his wife-to-be over the rim of his silver wine goblet.

Ashinji had to agree with part of Sadaiyo’s assessment-Lady Misune Dai was indeed magnificent, in the manner of a glacier or an ice-rimmed lake in winter. To his eyes though, her cold beauty held no allure.

The Ceremony of Welcoming had taken place earlier that evening. Misune’s parents had brought her before the members of the House of Sakehera, assembled in the small chapel reserved for private family worship, clad only in a simple white robe, her hair unbound. There, Ashinji had intoned the ritual chants that bound Misune to her new family; afterward, the bride-to-be retired to the guest quarters so that she might rest for a time before preparing herself for the feast.

“ You and she will make a perfect match, Brother,” Ashinji commented dryly.

Sadaiyo either didn’t notice, or didn’t care about the subtle insult. He grinned wickedly. “One more day, and then she’ll be mine. I can barely control myself, and she’s practically across the room! Come our wedding night, I’ll ride her so hard, she’ll scream and come like she’s never done in her life! Then in the morning, I’ll tell you all about it!”

Ashinji sighed and took a pull from his glass. Sadaiyo never tired of this game, and as the evening progressed, he knew that his brother’s comments would become increasingly crude. He was thankful that their sister Lani sat well out of earshot, beside their mother.

Sadaiyo turned his attention to the older man seated to his left, a minor lord from Dai’s retinue, giving Ashinji a welcome respite. He allowed his eyes to wander over the elegant gathering. The bride now sat revealed-her veil thrown back so that all present might admire her-straight and proud between her father and older brother, Ibeji. Ibeji Dai reminded Ashinji of a young eagle-all sharp angles and glittering, amber eyes.

Brother and sister were deep in conversation. Occasionally, Misune would look up to stare boldly at Sadaiyo, as if taking his measure.

“ I see you staring at her, Ashi. What would that delicious little mongrel messenger say if she knew you were lusting after another woman, eh?”

Ashinji glared at his brother, struggling to control his fury, but Sadaiyo’s smirk made it all but impossible.

“ I understand your envy of me, little Brother. I will soon have a real woman in my bed, while you…” Sadaiyo’s lip curled, “you must content yourself with, um, tainted meat.”

Ashinji rose abruptly from his chair, tossed off the last of his wine, and excused himself with a muttered apology to his startled parents. Fuming, he stalked from the great hall out into the night, Sadaiyo’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

Ashinji walked quickly, unmindful of direction, his only thought to escape his brother’s toxic presence. He had come perilously close to losing control and had nearly smashed his fist into Sadaiyo’s face.

Eventually, his boiling anger cooled, and he found himself among the fragrant blooms of his mother’s private garden. He sat down on a wooden bench carved in the shape of two sea creatures entwined, their flukes upraised to form arm rests.

He wondered what Jelena was doing at this very moment. Was she thinking of him, longing for his embrace as much as he longed for hers? He knew that she could feel the tug of the undeniable connection between them. He could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at him. He loved her, and he felt certain that she loved him, but was love enough?

Could his desire to be with Jelena come from selfishness, considering all of the obstacles they would face? She had, by far, the most to lose. She had no family to protect her, and Lord Sen could cast her out with impunity if she became too much of an inconvenience.

No, Ashinji thought. Father would not do that, even if he thinks Jelena would be trouble for me. He’s not that kind of man.

Lord Sen did know how to take care of a problem, though. He would simply arrange to transfer Jelena’s service to another household, as far away from Kerala as possible.

Ashinji stood up from the bench, full of restless energy. He thought of going down to the barracks to see Jelena, but reluctantly dismissed the idea. No, not yet, he thought. After the wedding ceremony, he would speak to her, confess his love, and together, they could decide what to do. He spent the remainder of the evening walking the battlements, thinking about his future.

There are seven hundred and seventy seven faces of the Goddess.

All are manifestations of the One.

She has seven hundred and seventy seven names.

All are names of the One.

She who gave birth to the World.

Mother of us all.

The two priests intoned the sacred chant, their voices a steady drone. The bride and groom knelt before the altar, heads bowed, all but immobilized beneath the weight of their heavy, multi-layered wedding robes.

Ashinji knelt behind and to the left of Sadaiyo, clutching in his hand the gold bracelet that his brother would soon place on the wrist of his new wife. Ibeji knelt behind his sister, a similar bracelet in his hand. Ashinji felt hot and miserable in the close, incense-clouded chapel. He wished fervently for the entire affair to be over so that he could throw off his own stiff, heavy garments and go to Jelena. The image of her face-so beautiful and dear-bolstered his strength.

The priests anointed the heads of the bride and groom with sacred oil and intoned the chants of joining. The exchange of bracelets would come next, then the obeisance before the One, and finally, the official pronouncement. Ashinji went through the motions, only because he had to. He felt no happiness, love, or pride. He felt nothing but the desire to escape.

At last, the priests made the final pronouncement. The assembled guests rose and cheered loudly as the Heir and his new wife exited the chapel. The newlyweds headed toward the great hall; there, they would be enthroned in large, ornate chairs like two statues on display, while the guests lined up to present their wedding gifts. Only after all gifts had been received would they be released to return to separate chambers for a few hours of much needed rest before the big feast that evening.