“Indeed I had not noticed,” he replied. “I’ve been lost in thoughts of my bride.”
“Is it custom here to arm oneself for a wedding?”
“I am not sure, perhaps we should ask.”
They were interrupted when Arany appeared from her cabin. Her body had been painted with elaborate black and red designs. Gerard shook his head and walked away. Oludara frowned at Gerard’s back, then returned his attention to his bride.
Arany approached Oludara with slow, careful steps, nervously glancing from side to side the entire time. When she stood just one step before him, she took one last look around. Satisfied, she let out a breath and reached out to grasp his hand.
A shrill scream interrupted her movement.
Not five feet from Oludara and Arany appeared a black boy with one leg: Sacy-Perey. Saci, a powerful, mysterious being, had befriended Gerard and Oludara during their travels, although his “friendship” most often signified torment as the played never-ending pranks on them. As usual, he wore a red pointy cap and short red leggings. His abrupt appearance did not surprise Oludara, even though the imp hadn’t shown himself since the day they had entered the Tupinambá village. Sacy did, however, shock the natives, who had never seen him before. They gasped and murmured among themselves.
“What are you doing?” yelled Sacy in his high-pitched voice.
Gerard came running. “What was that scream?”
“It appears our friend Sacy has finally returned, come for my wedding,” replied Oludara.
“I’m here to save your life, you fool,” said Sacy. “You can’t marry her!” He pointed at Arany. “Curooper placed a curse on her. If she does not marry him, she must remain unwed forever.”
“Who is Curooper?”
Sacy lifted his red cap and scratched his bald head. “Well, he is much like me, a lord of the wilderness. The animals serve him.”
“Why did no one tell us of this curse?” Oludara asked the crowd.
“They can’t,” replied Sacy. “The whole village is cursed, and anyone who speaks of it will die.”
At those words, the tribe relaxed. Many wiped sweat from their brows.
“Well,” commented Cabwassu to a nearby group, “I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“I will marry her anyway,” said Oludara.
“Oh, no!” said Cabwassu.
“You can’t fight Curooper!” yelled Sacy. “If you continue this ceremony, he’ll kill you for sure.”
“You said he’s like you, didn’t you?”
“Well, mostly.”
Oludara looked up and down Sacy’s prepubescent body.
“I think we can handle a child, even a magical one. Gerard, are you with me?”
“If there’s danger about, I’ll stay by your side,” replied Gerard. “Just let me retrieve my weapons.”
Before he could move, a rumbling sound like a bull charging came from the woods. Screams of “Curooper!” erupted around the village.
Riding upon a giant boar, what at first sight appeared to be an adolescent male came rushing through the front gate of the village palisade. However, Oludara soon discerned that Curooper was not a man. A thick red mat of hair splayed out from his head. Other, tinier hairs bristled along his entire body, and his feet turned backwards at the ankles. Sinewy muscles rippled from head to toe. With one hand, he grasped the spiky fur on the boar’s neck, and with the other, he carried a spear with a bone-white, sharpened tip. On each side of him ran a jaguar: one yellow, one black.
“Who speaks of the curse?” he said.
Oludara stepped forward. “It was I, Oludara. I wish you no ill, great Curooper. Only now I heard of your claim on Arany, but in truth, I plan to make her my wife.”
Curooper spat on the ground and turned to Sacy. “What are you doing here, cousin?” he asked. “Colluding with dark-skinned,” then he motioned toward Gerard, “and white-skinned invaders of our land?”
“Please spare them!” said Sacy. “They are friends of mine. They don’t understand the laws of the wilderness.”
“They’ll learn soon enough. Arany, you would dare accept this marriage?”
“I warned him I could never marry,” she said.
“Then what is happening here?”
“I love him,” she said, “and I could not say no.”
“Enough!” said Curooper.
With a word of command, he put his jaguars in motion. They charged Gerard. Without his weapons, Gerard could only hold up his arms as they pounced. They knocked him to the ground, where one of them placed an open jaw over his neck and the other roared in his face. Its carnivorous, noxious breath coursed around him.
Oludara rushed to help his companion, but Curooper shouted and the boar charged. Holding his spear as a lance, Curooper aimed for Oludara’s chest. Oludara placed his feet in a wide stance and held his position. At the last moment, he dodged and grabbed the spear as it passed.
The jolt dragged Curooper from his mount. He fell spine-first on the ground and released his hold on the weapon. Oludara deftly spun the spear around and touched the point to Curooper’s chest, pinning him down. But he heard hoof beats behind him and jumped to avoid the boar’s tusks.
Curooper sat up, opened a palm toward Oludara, and cried out a word in some language Oludara had never heard. As Curooper spoke, an invisible blow struck Oludara’s chest, knocking him to the ground and sending the spear clattering away.
Curooper stood and dusted himself off. He walked deliberately to his spear and picked it up. Oludara could do nothing but grip his chest and try to breathe. As Curooper approached Oludara for a final blow, Arany ran before him.
“Spare him,” she said, “and I will marry you.”
Her words made Curooper pause. He pulled back his spear and rested the butt on the ground.
“Very well,” he said. He mounted his boar and held out a hand to her. “Let us go.”
Arany looked around, as if asking for support, but no one said a word. “Please,” she said, “give me time to prepare myself for marriage. You know I must honor the spirits before I leave.”
Curooper squinted at her, then nodded. He shouted to the tribe, “I will return in two days time. If she has been touched, I will raze this village. And those two,” he pointed to Oludara and Gerard, “I will feed to my jaguars.”
He turned his boar and rode off. The jaguars roared a final time before releasing Gerard and following after.
Gerard stood and lent a hand to Oludara. “Why is someone always threatening to devour us?” he asked. “Is there no other way to kill a man?” He looked at the tribe. “You could have helped, you know.”
“No, they could not,” said Sacy. “Curooper laid claim to Arany long ago, and bound the warriors to never interfere. If any of them had attacked, he would have slain them all and burned the village to the ground.”
“What he says is true,” said Cabwassu. “We bear weapons only for defense.”
Gerard turned to Oludara. “Well,” he said, “if you needed another reason not to marry Arany, I think you have one.”
“Even if he kills me,” said Oludara, “I will not allow him to take Arany.”
“Then you’d best think of something brilliant if you plan to defeat an enemy who can toss you down with a word.”
A clattering of shell necklaces advised them that Yandir, the village pajé, approached. A waist-length red-and-white feather headdress waved in the breeze behind him.
“Gerard is right,” said Yandir. “You cannot fight Curooper; he is immortal. Even if you slay him, he will revive shortly after and revenge himself.”
“I felt the power of his magic,” said Oludara, rubbing his neck. “He struck me with a force greater than a lion’s pounce.” Then he lowered his voice and whispered. “But before we speak, I must warn you that someone watches us. Look behind that longhouse.”
Gerard turned and saw what appeared to be a child peeping out from behind one of the village longhouses.
“I’ll take a look!” said Sacy. He disappeared, transporting away. Almost immediately, sounds of struggle erupted from behind the hut.
Gerard and Oludara ran toward the fight, followed by most of the village. They discovered Sacy pinning down a girl by her wrists.
The girl looked like one of the native children, except for her long, golden hair—permeated with colorful flowers—and her homely features. An unbroken, dark eyebrow and an unsightly nose dominated her face.
“Do you know this girl, Sacy?” asked Oludara.
“Yes,” he said, “this is Wildflower. She is a friend of the animals, like Curooper.”
“Wildflower,” asked Oludara, “why have you come here today?”
“I heard you challenge Curooper, and I came to protect him.”
“Protect him? Why?”
“Why? He is the most beautiful, powerful man in the world! Someday I will be his bride.”
Sacy stuck his tongue out with a “Bleh.”
“Forget about that,” he said, “Curooper will never touch you.”
Wildflower scowled at him.
“Hmm,” said Oludara, “but why not? What if we could make Curooper fall in love with her and forget Arany?”
At that, Wildflower gasped. She threw Sacy to the side as if he weighed nothing, and he rolled away grunting. She heaved herself up and ran to Oludara, her face bright with emotion.
“Is that possible?” she asked.
“Perhaps if his brains were splattered by a club,” said Sacy, deftly vaulting up to stand on his one leg.
Wildflower punched Sacy in the arm.
“Exactly, Sacy,” said Oludara. “We must find a way to confuse his mind.”
“Hey!” said Wildflower. “Don’t you mean clarify his mind? Show him his true feelings?”
“Yes, of course” said Oludara, fighting back a grin. “Yandir,” he said, turning toward the pajé, “what you do think?”
“We should not discuss this out here,” Yandir replied. “Come with me.”
Oludara, Gerard, Jakoo, Arany, and Wildflower followed Yandir into his hut. Sacy came hopping behind. Gerard and Oludara both had to bend down to keep their heads from hitting the ceiling. The group crowded in shoulder to shoulder, carefully avoiding the many containers, items, and roots lining the shelves and hanging from the walls. Yandir sat comfortably on the ground with his legs crossed.
Before speaking, Yandir peeled a banana and pinched off a piece, which he placed on a shelf beside him. A tiny, black bat hung just above the outcropping.
“I am no charmer,” began Yandir, “yet it makes little difference. I have no magic which would compel Curooper; he is magic itself.”
“What if we found someone more powerful than him?” asked Gerard.
“Yes,” said Oludara. “My people have a saying: ‘He who is pierced with a thorn must limp off to him who has a knife.’ We have been pierced and must find one with the power to help us. Does some such creature exist? One with enough power to sway him?”
Yandir rubbed a hand over his bald head as he thought. “You could call upon Yara,” he said. “She lives not far from here. But you would do better to face Curooper himself—her magic makes even his appear childish.”
“Nevertheless,” said Oludara, “if she is the only option, I will face her.”
“Oludara,” said Jakoo, “we can equip you with whatever you need, but no warrior from our village can go. We cannot interfere.”
“I understand,” responded Oludara, placing a hand on Jakoo’s shoulder. “You have shown us your courage time and again, but it is right that I face this task alone, and decide my own fate.”
“Alone?” snorted Gerard. “I’m going with you, of course. No heathen curse bars me, and a thousand of them wouldn’t keep me from your side.”
“You argue against my wedding but you risk your life to make it happen?”
“This has nothing to do with your misguided affair. I won’t allow you to face danger alone.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Yandir. “Yara can enchant any man. You will both be helpless against her.”
“But I’ll be with them,” said Arany. “Her charms will have no effect on me.” She grasped Oludara’s hand. “We should decide our fate together.”
“You may go where the others may not?” asked Oludara.
“Like the others, there is much I cannot say, but a curse to never lay a hand upon Curooper would not serve very well for one he intends to have as a wife.”
“Yara’s charms may not affect you, Arany,” said Yandir, “but her other magics will. Do you really hope to face her and live?”
Wildflower grabbed Oludara’s hand and stared up into his eyes. “I’ll go,” she said in her girlish voice. “I’ll do anything to help Curooper realize his love for me.”
Oludara shook his head but Yandir interrupted. “Don’t refuse her offer lightly, Oludara. Wildflower has powers you do not know, and you will need magic to fight magic. Don’t be fooled by her childish appearance; all those who enter the forest are cautious of her. Yet even so, I fear she is still a girl at heart. Where Wildflower is innocent, Yara is cunning. And Yara’s powers are far greater; it will not be an even match.”
“Then we require more magic,” said Oludara.
Everyone turned toward Sacy.
“Hah!” he said. “Plot against Curooper? Confront Yara in her lair? No thank you, I’d rather keep my skin intact. But I do wish you the best possible outcome: a quick death and proper burial.” He bowed and blinked out of sight.
“If only he would disappear as quickly when we don’t need him,” sighed Gerard.
Yandir, rubbing his head, examined the companions one by one. “It is not enough,” he sighed. After a moment’s thought, he opened a clay pot and removed a necklace of polished red rocks. “Take this,” he said. “It may offer some protection.”
“What is it?” asked Oludara.
“It will protect your body from magical harm. It is the greatest treasure of the village.”
“Thank you for your trust in me,” said Oludara. “I swear I will return it.”
“But beware, not all magic is direct. If Yara’s magic causes a tree to fall upon your head, it will kill you just as surely.”
Oludara nodded.
“And Gerard,” said Yandir, “I may be able to prepare something for you.”
“No thank you,” said Gerard, “I already have an amulet of my own, much better than any heathen witchcraft.” He pulled a cross from under his doublet.
Yandir frowned. “At least take this,” he said, pulling down a string of garlic bulbs from the ceiling. “It is said that Yara can’t stand the smell. Eat some before your encounter.”
Oludara stepped from the hut and raised himself to his full, imposing height. “We have no time to lose,” he said. “Let us be on our way.”
#
After hours following Arany through the dark forest, batting away vines on a rarely treaded path, the sudden expanse caught Oludara by surprise. They had arrived at the edge of a lake. Grass-covered islands peeked above its surface, and lily pads with violet-tinged flowers formed floating, green bridges between them. To the left, spray sparkled in the moonlight as a waterfall caressed a mossy rock wall. A mist filled the air, thick enough to obscure the far side of the lake in a cottony blanket of air.
“Is this it?” asked Gerard, coming up behind them.
“Yes,” replied Arany. “We must wait here; Yara comes every night to bathe.”
“Oh,” whispered Gerard, covering his mouth, “should we be silent?”
“Don’t worry,” said Arany, “we are here to bargain with her, not surprise her. Our voices will attract her, so feel free to speak.”
“Fine with me,” said Gerard, throwing himself to the ground. “Conversation is better than that march through the forest.”
“A toilsome journey,” agreed Oludara, “but necessary. I only hope we made it in time.”
Oluda
ra and Arany sat side by side, staring out over the water. Wildflower sat behind them. No one spoke for several minutes.
“You tell us to speak,” said Oludara, “but it appears no one is the mood for conversation.”
“These lily pads remind me of a story,” said Arany. “If you wish, I can tell it while we wait.”
“Please do,” replied Oludara, “I would like that.”
“There was once a woman named Naya,” said Arany, “daughter of a powerful chief and the most beloved of her tribe. She fell in love with the moon, but became distraught when she found she could not call its attention. One night, she came to a pond, much like this one, to admire it. When she saw its reflection upon the water, she thought the moon had come to swim with her, so she jumped in. She was never seen again, but the lily pads grew in the spot of her dive. They always look up from the water, catching the moonlight.
“So you see, I am not the first woman to be cursed by a magical love beyond her control.”
“It is a nice story,” said Oludara. “Although I hope ours has a happier ending.” After a moment, he stood up and said, “We waste our time here. Is there no way to call this Yara to us?”
As if in response, a voice sounded. One soft, steady note called out in the night, and gradually escalated in volume. Then the note changed, and a song began. The words sounded familiar, yet unrecognizable, like some long-forgotten language. Everyone’s eyes were drawn toward a shimmering silhouette in the mist, sitting upon one of the lake’s tiny islands. The glow obscured details, yet the form appeared to be human, female.
Without speaking, Gerard stood and walked toward the water.
“Oludara,” shouted Arany, “stop him!”
Oludara followed in his own measured pace.
“No!” said Arany.
She ran in front of Oludara and pushed him back. He shoved her away, but she grabbed onto his arm.
“Please,” she screamed, “I love you!” She repeated the words several times, stumbling backwards as Oludara pressed forward. A few paces ahead of them, Gerard took a first step into the water. Arany threw her head into Oludara’s broad chest and cried.
Oludara paused and stared down at her. He touched one of her tears, then shook his head. His head cleared and he noticed Gerard knee-deep in the river and still moving.
The Discommodious Wedding Page 2