Ted Dekker - Outlaw

His choice to claim me. Melino’s words flowed through my mind. The values of the Tulim were still strange to me, but I was beginning to understand. In their world I was simply a means to an end. Yes, Wilam had some attraction to me, but desire to possess and to bring forth a child was what raged through his blood, not any intrinsic desire for me.

If I could bear a child, I would be seen as a valuable asset, one that Wilam had cleverly taken for himself. If I could not, he would appear the weaker, fooled by desire for a woman. A white wam at that.

But I wasn’t in a position to complain.

“I understand,” I said.

“The course is set—we cannot fail.”

“No, we must not.”

Even saying it, I felt fear rise through me.

“There’s no time. I must show my people that my choice is right.”

“Yes.”

“Immediately.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

Wilam looked at the door and let out a long breath. “You will now be my second wife. I have informed the elders.”

I blinked. “Already? There’s no ceremony?”

He looked at me, confused. “You are wam. There is no ceremony, we are wed at my word. And make no mistake, you are lesser than Melino. My akawi .” Which I took to mean something less than a full wife, like a concubine. “You will do only what she commands.” He paused. “And you will teach me the ways of the wam who fly in canoes.”

I nodded. But my mind was already on conceiving a child, because it was the last thing I wanted to do. In the wake of losing Stephen, I was in no frame of mind to conceive, certainly not with a native I hardly knew.

And yet no remotely reasonable alternative presented itself to me. In the way of the Tulim, being named Wilam’s wife was a great honor. Matters of choice and love had nothing to do with it. To bear a son for him would be perhaps the greatest honor known in the valley.

Thinking anything less served neither me nor the Tulim.

“When was your last blood?” Wilam asked.

He was wasting no time.

“Three weeks ago,” I said.

Wilam clearly knew the meaning of a woman’s cycles.

“Then you will come when I call.”

I KEPT telling myself that this was the only way. I had been delivered into the Tulim valley against my will, but I was no longer a slave to be forced. I was the wife of a prince, and my place as that wife was of my choosing. Hadn’t I chosen to be his wife rather than be handed over to Kirutu? Yes. And so I would be his wife.

But my fears still rode me like demons as I frantically prepared myself for Wilam should he call. I feared that he would reject me. That I would break down and reject him. That somehow I would be violating my principles despite good reasoning to the contrary.

Within minutes of my leaving Wilam, Melino hurried to the hut they’d assigned me and presented me with two of her finest skirts. She quickly went to work on my hair.

“He will call tonight,” she said. “You must not be afraid. Wilam may sound like a boar among the men, but alone he is a gentle man.” She glanced up at my eyes. “You are certain that you can conceive?”

It was all too much. I promptly stood and walked away from her.

“Not with this kind of pressure!” I snapped.

She stared at me, stunned.

Tears seeped into my eyes. “I’m not from your jungle, Melino. I hardly know who I am anymore! Now I’m expected to be with your husband and conceive a child at the snap of his fingers?”

Her features slowly softened. She walked to the bed and sat down, then patted the woven bark beside her.

“Sit.”

So I crossed to her and sat, knowing already that my course was set.

She took my chin and turned my face toward her.

“Now listen to me, Yuli.” I felt some comfort, hearing her call me that name. “First of all, you must know that he is now your husband as well. You are afraid, I know, but you are honored now and your honor will know no end when you miss your blood. It is a great honor to conceive the son of a prince. You must wipe your tears away.”

I nodded, but my eyes must have told a different story.

“Wilam is a very beautiful man,” she said. “When I was still young, I used to watch him strut through the village and dream he would choose me one day. When he did, the whole valley heard my cries of joy.”

“Yes, Melino, but this isn’t my way.”

She couldn’t know the courting ways I was accustomed to, but we did have one thing in common, and she had no trouble pointing to it.

“I can see how much you love the children. Yellina is like a little sister to you.”

The memory of little Yellina singing with me filled my mind.

“Think of the children. If you don’t know how to do this for Wilam, then do it for them. Give Wilam the power to rule and protect our children. Do not think of yourself in this. Think of the people.”

Her words cut to my core. It struck me, sitting there on the bed of that hut, that I was seeing my predicament all wrong. I should be delighted at the turn in my fate, not fearful of something that could bring so much beauty. I was thinking only of myself and seeing only through the lenses that had no meaning here in the jungle.

As if a switch had been thrown in my head, my perspective on the path before me shifted.

“If you must know, Wilam is secretly terrified of you,” Melino said, smiling.

The revelation surprised me. But then, why wouldn’t he be? I was as foreign to him as he was to me.

“He is a kind man?”

“The kindest,” she said.

“And gentle?”

“Like a dove.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Then make me beautiful.”

She did, in her own way, and I began to let all of my fears fall away.

I asked Melino what I should expect of the imminent encounter, what customs I ought to be aware of. She only smiled and said Wilam would be more interested in my own customs.

As promised the call did come, later that very night, and my first thought was to run away into the forest. Instead I followed the servant obediently.

Fifteen minutes later I stood outside Wilam’s spousal hut, took one deep breath to calm my jitters, and, at the prompting of the man who’d fetched me, ducked through the entrance.

Wilam sat on a mat by the fire, arms on his knees, staring absently into the flames. The servant quickly boarded up the entrance.

We were alone.

“You’ve come,” he said.

“You called,” I replied.

He dipped his head.

“Sit.”

I recalled Melino’s advice. I had no idea what was customary among the Tulim in these situations, but I knew my own ways. Wilam had married me, not a Tulim woman. I was a woman, not a slave. A treasure, not a piece of property. That’s what I told myself as I remained standing.

“Do you find me beautiful?” I asked.

His eyes lingered on mine, then swept down my body.

“I am honored to be called your wife,” I said. “It would be easier for me to conceive if I knew that you felt as honored to be my husband. And that you find me beautiful.”

For a long time Wilam said nothing, but I could see by the light of the fire that he was not displeased with my boldness. I knew then that I had as much power here in this hut as he did.

When he spoke, his voice was gentle.

“Sit down beside me, Yuli.”

I rounded the fire pit and eased down with my legs folded to one side, leaning on one arm.

“Look at me,” he said.

I lifted my eyes and saw no aggression, no hint of wariness, no awkwardness whatsoever.

“You are a woman and you want to know if I find you beautiful,” he said.

“Yes.”

A slight smile formed on his face. “I find you more beautiful every day I see you. Even when I first saw you at the council, I was struck by your simple beauty. Others talked about the paleness of your skin, but I saw only the blue magic in your eyes. I refused to confess this, even to myself. Perhaps it is why I refused Kirutu’s bid to purchase you.”