Unlike Tanti’s father, who always searched for the most convenient paths to take, Dionun seemed to hate those paved roads. He walked around them, climbing the exposed rocks, penetrating tangles of dense bushes or walking through the thorns.
“Dionun,” Tanti said. “Why are we walking here? This way is ten times longer and harder. We’ll make it much faster if we take the paths below.”
He sprawled on a wide boulder and felt as though he couldn’t take another step. He’d just lie there and sleep for two or three days.
Dionun sat next to him. “The Whites,” he said, while taking what little food they had out of his bag and offering some to Tanti, “are people of the plains. They don’t climb rocks. They walk on paths and paved routes. So we can feel pretty safe in these places. Here, look there.”
Tanti could barely see the group of horsemen galloping down the winding path far beneath their current vantage point. He pressed himself against the boulder, trying to hide himself from them. Dionun laughed and remained sitting straight. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Those square ice cubes won’t raise their heads to look in our direction. They always look straight forward. Come on.” He roused Tanti. “We’re continuing.”
After that, they walked on something that looked like a path, which made walking easier. The route was steep and twisted like a trunk. Tanti felt his spirit break. The cold wind blew irately in his face. His feet ached, his head burned, and his hands—scratched from the ropes—were scraped even more from holding on to the sharp rocks. He thought that if he stopped now, he wouldn’t be able to continue. If only they could find a place to stop, where they could lie down and rest. Was there anything left to eat? He was thirsty. They stood on the mountaintop, from which a gentle slope led to a meadow. Tanti raised his head, searching for a coveted resting spot.
The sight that met him was odd and irrational. Before them stretched a bordered plateau among the hills, in which there were arrow-straight rows of white-leaved plants, planted at regular spaces from each other.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dionun said. “These straight rows hurt my eyes.”
“What are they?” Tanti asked.
“These are flourista crops,” Dionun said.
“Flourista?”
“It’s a very common vegetable, similar to the potato. It’s white and slightly sweet. The Whites like to add it to meat stews, fill it with vegetables, or dry it and make flour out of it.” Dionun started walking away from the place and led them to the hills before them, not noticing that Tanti had stopped and wasn’t following him. “Rolls made of flourista are soft and light…”
Tanti didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He crouched down to look at the white, heart-shaped leaves. Without hesitating, he reached out, grabbed a bunch of leaves, and tore off a flourista. He shook off the dirt, cleaned the round vegetable, and bit into it cautiously. It was crispy, a bit floury, yet tasty. The liquids slaked his raging thirst.
“Dionun! Wait. Maybe you should taste one too.”
Dionun turned his head. When he saw the bitten vegetable in Tanti’s hand, he looked horrified. “Are you out of your mind, you foolish Hue-man!” he shouted. “Why did you pick it?”
“I was hungry and thirsty,” Tanti said. “What’s wrong? Are they poisoned or something?”
“You’re stupid! You’re cursed! Look!” Dionun yelled and pointed at the plant from which Tanti had picked the vegetable. “You ruined the row. The Whites will know that we’ve been here. And not only will the guards chase us, but enraged peasants too.” He snatched what remained of the vegetable from Tanti’s hand and buried it among the leaves, organizing the leaves around it as best as he could.
“I don’t understand.” Dionun’s rage frightened Tanti. “Who will notice one missing vegetable in such a huge field?”
“You can stay here to see if they will or won’t notice it. I’m getting out of here.”
Tanti hurried after him. When Dionun disappeared around the bend, he almost fainted with fear that he’d be left alone in a strange and hostile world.
They walked through a steep, tangled grove. Tanti knew he was reaching the end of his strength. When the trees in the grove became thinner, he flung himself on the ground, where he could find enough space to lay his body. He’d understand if Dionun decided to continue without him, after he’d held him back and made so many mistakes.
Before him, he saw a row of soldiers with heart-shaped faces. They were all holding a shovel, running toward him in a straight row. One of them was headless.
“Get up, Tanti.” Dionun shook him. His head was heavy and he couldn’t open his eyes.
“The sun is setting.” Dionun continued. “We can’t stay in the mountains after dark.”
“Dionun, I won’t delay you any longer,” Tanti mumbled. “I know I have to continue west to the border, and be careful of the paths and flourista.”
“If the mountain wolves don’t eat you.”
“What?” Tanti sat up.
“Those creatures of the night are just waiting for wretched people like you.”
Tanti knew there was truth in Dionun’s words. He couldn’t see any caves in the distance, where he could hide. He got up and fell immediately. His legs could no longer carry him.
“I think I’ll stay the night here,” he said. “Curled up with the white wolves.”
“And I intend to spend the night in a warm, lit house, eating kite-egg soup, and sleeping on a soft bed with lace sheets.”
“I think you’re becoming delusional, too, Dionun.”
“Look,” Dionun said and pointed at the hill before them. “There, beyond the hill, that’s where she lives.”
“Who?”
“I’m telling you, she’s waiting.”
“Who?”
“Ovalina, the softest and sweetest of all women.”
“I know. With the eagle eggs and pillows embroidered out of butterfly wings.” Tanti feared Dionun was losing his sanity, yet he got up. Fear overcame his exhaustion. Wolves, furroids, and who knew what else. He wasn’t going to stay here by himself. Even though his guide was just as dazed as he was.
Yet his legs betrayed him again. “I think you’re going to eat all the soup tonight.”
Without a word, Dionun hooked his hand under Tanti’s armpit and lifted him. He started walking, dragging Tanti with him.
They made slow progress. Dionun didn’t stop whispering words of encouragement in Tanti’s ear. “Here, we’ve made it to the foot of the mountain. Beyond this grove is the path that will take us to the house. Just a bit more and we’re there. Fresh and pink from a warm, fragrant bath, our stomachs full, we’ll prepare for bed, while our generous hostess guards us as we sleep, embroidering our names on white lace napkins. What do you say, Tanti? Can you move another leg forward, and another one?”
“Yes, yes, my Blue friend. Lace napkins, and Ovalina eggs floating in pink, fragrant soup. I thought I was losing my mind.”
Another hour passed. The landscape turned less rocky, and green vegetation spread around them.
Once again, they stood before straight rows of pale leaves, but this time, Dionun didn’t flinch. He started walking down the path between the cultivated rows, dragging Tanti with him. Around them, they heard sheep bleating, the crow of a rooster, and dogs barking. And as if in a dream, a little house appeared on top of the hill, white and well cared for, surrounded by fruit trees and white flower beds.
“I’m starting to think there’s truth in your words.” The sight of the house gave Tanti a burst of energy. “Do you know the residents of this house?”
“I know them well.” Dionun smiled in satisfaction. “Yes, very well.”
The door to the house opened. A round woman stood there and looked at them, in the fading light of the setting sun. She looked as though she were made out of oval balls. Her face was round, h
er arms plump, her hips soft and curving, and her breasts high. Her happy smile lit up the gloom.
“Dion.” She screamed and ran to them with open arms. “My sweet Blue Dion.”
Sweet Blue Dion opened his arms and absorbed her soft curves against his body, barely noticing that Tanti had fallen without anyone to support him. A pair of white puppies burst out of the house and started circling the embracing couple energetically, barking ecstatically. Dionun and the woman he held in his arms hurried into the house, surrounded by the furry white comets, circling them faster and faster, as Tanti doddered after them, hardly believing his eyes.
Shortly after, Tanti and Dionun sat at the table. Their skin was flushed and fragrant from the warm, oiled bath, their hair washed, and their faces shaved. In the middle of the table was a large ceramic bowl, giving off the wonderful smell of a delicious stew. Ovalina fussed around them, constantly laughing and rejoicing, serving them flourista pie with cranberries, slices of fresh white cheese in oil and rosemary, and steaming soup.
In the soup were white eggs. Tanti felt as though he was in the midst of a hallucination. What Dionun had told him had come true. They were in a clean, warm house, eating kite-egg soup with fresh vegetables from the garden, those same vegetables that grew in straight rows. For dessert, they had purplish-blue wine, which the hostess took out of a hiding place. Even though they were staying in a White house, it seemed as though they were protected from evil.
Dionun and Aitev, or as Dionun called her, Ovalina, didn’t stop talking. For the last five years, Dionun would arrive at her isolated house and exchange wine for cheese, kisses and information.
Aitev, a young widow whose husband had been many years older than her and had died in an unfortunate hunting accident, mourned his death for a while. But very quickly, she learned the advantages of a life without him. When he was alive, he was jealous and possessive and chose to build their house far away in the mountains, at the end of the grove, near the Nautilin border. He isolated his young bride from her family and from her childhood friends. He was gruff and strict and didn’t believe in displays of affection of any kind. Every so often, she was forced to skin the foxes and hares he brought home, while she lamented her unfortunate circumstances, for she loathed touching the flesh of animals.
When his leg got stuck in a fissure between two boulders, and the wolves attacked him (he shot two, but no one knew what exactly had happened there or what had preceded what), she found herself alone, with the farm animals and vegetable gardens. With time, she began to notice that things were easier for her when she didn’t have his strict gaze constantly supervising her. She loved her home, loved the area, and loved her newfound independence. Few visitors came to the area. Among them, the Blue wine merchants. Her house was a trading station and a welcoming rest stop.
Her cheese, as well as her delicate embroideries and pastries, were sought after by the Blues. She was diligent and hardworking. She started selling her products at Market Hill, the Sunday market that was open to both Whites and Blues. She was happy with her lot and was blessed in her work. The tension previously present in her face had disappeared. Her limbs became even rounder, and her uproarious laughter endeared her to the Blues she met during market days. Almost everyone forgot her first name, Aitev, and called her Ovalina.
Her situation would’ve been bad now that the border had closed and the market days had ceased, but the cheese and wine smugglers continued to endanger themselves and come to her farm. The location of her house made smuggling easier, and despite the difficulties, the daring and stubborn border thieves continued to provide the requested products.
Now, Dionun was telling her about their escape, while Ovalina occasionally cut him off with cries of horror, and the dogs, Garlic and Onion, barked happily, and once again started running around them. In her presence, Dionun’s eyes looked brighter, his back straighter, and his behavior relaxed and happy.
At the end of the meal, Ovalina made Tanti a makeshift bed out of two armchairs that she pushed together. She spread on it a gleaming-white sheet with embroidered corners. Tanti laid his head on the soft pillow. Garlic and Onion immediately settled at his feet, so closely entwined that it was impossible to notice where one started and the other one ended. Tanti quickly fell into a deep slumber.
It was late morning when the rattling of plates and kitchen noises woke Tanti. It took him a while to remember and understand where he was. Ovalina was already busy making breakfast, while Dionun helped her. Every now and then, she’d send him to bring eggs from the henhouse, milk the sheep, take out the dogs and station them to guard the gate, bring them in again when it started to rain, or light the oven to bake the rolls. Dionun readily complied with her requests. “Anything else, my Ovalina?” he’d ask, and chuckle to himself as she sent him on his next assignment.
The rain outside increased the cozy feeling in Aitev’s white house. Consequently, Tanti wasn’t happy when they started their preparations to continue their journey.
In the kitchen corner, the roof started leaking water. Ovalina sighed and hurried to place a bowl to collect the water. She looked at Dionun pointedly.
“Of course I’ll repair your roof, darling,” Dionun said. “I’m just waiting for some respite in the rain. The fence at the henhouse also needs some bolstering.”
Her eyes filled with light. “Shall we drink to that?” she asked, and hurried to procure a new bottle of wine from somewhere.
They drank to fixing the roof. Then they had another drink to fixing the fence. And another one to the salad. And the smell of fresh pastries, and the rain irrigating the fields. And they drank to the young guest who wasn’t Blue and wasn’t White and was whatever he was. Tanti drank and toasted the generous, talented hostess, and he knew he’d never forget the taste of her cooking. Now she held the empty bottle of wine. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s no more excellent blue wine left. In the past, we could buy it freely or exchange it for cheese. But now, we’ve become persecuted criminals.”
“I heard they’ve put up borders and forbidden passage into the countries.”
“So foolish and unnecessary,” Ovalina said and disappeared into the pantry with the empty bottle. After a moment, she returned and said, “These are borders of bitterness. Therefore, they’re unstable and cause conflict. The Whites are Whites and won’t turn Blue. The same with the Blues. The border that was formed of itself between the countries is strong and stable without soldiers or incarcerations. It’s much stronger than the borders set by Galrock.”
Dionun came back in, wet, wrinkled, and smug. “Your rooster went crazy,” he said, showing her his wounded hands. “He wouldn’t let me get close to the net.”
“He’s protecting his chickens,” Ovalina said. “If you were him, would you let a strange man come close to your chickens?”
“I’d peck him bloody.”
“You see?” And the two of them burst out laughing again. She cleaned his fingers, spread ointment on them, and bandaged them with thin strips of material.
“We have to go,” Dionun said.
“I know.” She was silent for a moment, thoughtful. “I’ll try to find out what happened to Anaman.”
“Be careful.”
She lifted a bunch of delicate lace ribbons she’d made. “The village chief’s wife has a brother who serves in the queen’s guard. I’ll suggest that she buy these fashionable ribbons and decorate her dresses with them, give her a special price just for her. That’ll get her talking. You can be sure of that.”
“I’m sure.”
Ovalina gave them a small rucksack filled with vegetables, cheese, rolls, and water bottles. She and Dionun stood embracing for some time, and then she turned to Tanti.
“I was glad to meet you, Izmerandi. Someday, the borders will open, and we’ll sit here together, Blues, Whites, and Greens like you, without fear.” Before he could answer, he found himself in
her arms, wrapped in gentle, abundant softness.
Dionun and Tanti made their way toward the forest. The little white house and Aitev, called Ovalina, who waved goodbye, disappeared behind them.
For a while, they walked silently. Dionun was thoughtful. Occasionally, he’d stop and observe their route. They were approaching the border. They’d have to sneak by the guards’ barriers unnoticed. Once again, they walked down a rocky road. The tangled vegetation hid them well. From afar, they could see signs of settlements, white roofs, and cultivated fields.
A few times, they stopped and hid when they saw White guards, who marched or stood by the path. Finally, they stopped before a row of thorny bushes with impenetrable foliage. Tanti assumed they’d have to walk along the natural fence until they reached a passage of sorts. There, probably, they’d have to defeat the White guards.
For some time, they walked along the fence, while Dionun examined the way intently, counting steps and measuring the boulders with his hands.
Once again, Tanti felt exhaustion overwhelm him. The path along the thorny tangle was bumpy and looked quite exposed. It didn’t look as though they’d find a place there to stop and rest. The tension involved in hiding from the guards, and his fear of discovery and being imprisoned again after the hardships of the journey, frazzled his nerves. Yet he didn’t complain and hoped to make it without collapsing, as he had the day before.
Dionun kneeled, surveyed the ground, turned back to see that no one was in the area, and quickly lifted a bunch of thorny bushes, creating an opening.
“Quickly, Tanti, crawl in,” he said and pulled Tanti’s arm. Tanti cried out in pain. Dionun dragged him into the thick of the hostile undergrowth. They crawled a short distance inside a narrow tunnel, and to his surprise, Tanti found himself in a dim, expansive, and comfortable space, which was protected and well hidden. When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed empty bottles, pieces of boxes, and various types of packaging on the packed earth.
Journey to Water's Heart Page 15