“Stop, you hairy pig!” commanded Curooper. “It’s a trick!”
Oludara loosed another arrow, striking the boar in its hump, and it raced even faster. At the last moment, Oludara dodged.
The boar saw the ruse and managed to turn its head in time to avoid the trunk. Its body, however, slammed into the tree, knocking the air from its lungs. Gerard bounded from the brush and struck its head with a log. His blow seemed to have no effect, so he whacked it again, then a third time. The beast wavered for a moment before falling to its side.
At that, Curooper yelled and raised his spear in challenge. Gerard picked up his harquebus and circled to Curooper’s right. Oludara drew his bow and walked to Curooper’s left. The three formed a triangle in the middle of the clearing. Curooper shifted his eyes left and right, watching his foes carefully.
Oludara raised a hand. “Mighty Curooper,” he said, “we wish to parlay.”
“Say your words,” said Curooper. “They will be your last.”
Oludara paced forward.
“We have a present for you,” he said. “A crown for your wedding day.” Oludara passed bow and arrow to one hand and removed the garland from his belt.
“What foolishness is this?” said Curooper. “Do you think me a stupid beast, to accept a present from my enemies? Waste no more of my time; die and be done with it.”
Curooper raised a palm at Oludara and cried out a word. The amulet on Oludara’s neck crackled and the magic had no effect. Curooper squinted at the sound.
Oludara lunged forward with the garland, but Curooper leapt and struck Oludara’s side with the butt of his spear.
“Let us settle this in a fair fight then,” said Oludara. “The amulet protects me from your magic.”
Curooper straightened and scoffed at him. “Do you think I have but one power?” He whistled a shrill, complex tune. “I am the master of the wilderness, not a childish imp like your friend Sacy!”
A tapir appeared from the brush at the edge of the clearing. Birds of every color flew in and circled overhead. The grass wiggled in all directions.
“Beware, Gerard,” said Oludara, “snakes!”
A group of crocodiles came waddling in the far end of the clearing.
“Will you fight the entire forest?” asked Curooper.
Gerard winked at Oludara and both of them charged. Curooper shouted a word and dropped to one knee, striking the ground with his fist. His blow caused the earth to heave out around him and throw Gerard and Oludara to the ground. Gerard’s gun slipped from his hands and the round bullet rolled out of the barrel. The garland flew from Oludara’s grasp and landed several feet away.
Oludara reached for the garland but Curooper spoke another word and roots shot up from the ground, binding him from head to foot. Curooper sauntered towards him.
“You have injured my animals, attacked me, and tried to take what is mine. Any one of these is an offense for which I would kill you, but for all three, I’ll feed you to the piranhas and laugh as they bite the flesh from your bones.” He clasped the spear with both hands and raised it.
A green-and-yellow parrot squawked and made a shaky plunge toward them. It passed within inches of Curooper’s face, distracting him, then dove and snatched the garland in its beak.
“What is this?” said Curooper. “A drunken parrot?”
Gerard pulled himself to his knees and took stock of the situation. Oludara lay tangled in vines, unmoving. A strange parrot flew a wobbly spiral around Curooper, each pass bringing it closer. Gerard noticed that an injured wing caused the bird’s erratic flight.
“Why that little sneak,” he whispered. He recovered his harquebus from the grass.
Curooper spun around to watch the bird’s flight. The movement seemed to make him dizzy.
“Drop that crown and leave here!” he commanded. When the bird continued to circle, he drew back his spear.
With no time to reload, Gerard grabbed the barrel of his gun with both hands and hurled it end over end. It struck Curooper’s arm just as he released the spear. The parrot transformed mid-flight into Wildflower, crown held tightly in her mouth. She dropped from the air. The spear, nudged off course by Gerard’s gun, sliced through a lock of her golden hair. Curooper unwillingly broke her fall; she landed on his ribs and knocked the breath out of him.
Before Curooper could move, Wildflower plucked the garland from her teeth and jammed it upon his head. Then she grabbed his face on both sides and smothered him in a kiss.
Curooper struggled under the romantic assault, but when he opened his eyes and looked upon Wildflower, his body relaxed. He shut his eyes and grabbed her, returning the passionate kiss.
When they separated, both sucked in a breath of air. Wildflower stood and pulled Curooper after her.
“Sweetest honey,” she said, “let us be off to someplace more private.”
Gerard stood and dusted himself off. Oludara untangled himself from the roots, which had come loose during the kiss.
Curooper caught sight of the movement. “All right,” he said, “just let me kill those two first.”
“Oh, forget about them,” said Wildflower.
Curooper scrunched his eyes in confusion. “Really?”
She nodded.
“And Arany?”
“Forget her too. I want you to swear her off this very moment, and that horrendous curse you placed upon her village. You will do this as a gesture of love to me.”
Curooper made a face, then sighed and said, “All right. I swear that the oath and curse bind no longer. Arany and her people can do as they wish.”
With those words, the gathered animals dispersed, each in its own fashion.
“Very well,” said Wildflower. “Your jaguars are a short ride from here. Let’s go find them and be on our way.”
Curooper kicked his boar in the ribs and it grunted and wobbled to its feet. It snorted at Oludara but Curooper grabbed the spiky hair on its neck and pulled it around. He mounted the animal and helped Wildflower up behind him. As they rode off, Wildflower looked back toward Gerard and Oludara and winked.
As the couple disappeared into the woods, Oludara said, “Goodbye, Wildflower. I will not forget your bravery, which saved my life more than once. You held your ground at times when many warriors would have paled in fear.”
“I’ll second that,” said Gerard, “quite an amazing little girl.” Then he looked down and said, “I suppose we’d best get back to your...marriage.”
Oludara touched his shoulder and said, “Gerard, if it means that much to you, I will go to Salvador and find a priest.”
“It’s not that,” said Gerard, shaking his head, “it’s this!” He motioned to the forest around them. “We’ve been through so much: seen wonders, battled foes—everything I came to Brazil to do. This has been the best time of my life. I didn’t want to give that up...to give you up. I’ve been selfish, Oludara, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put my happiness before that of others. I’m glad we at least had this last adventure together.”
“And what makes you think our adventures have come to an end?”
Gerard looked up, surprised. “Because you’ll stay in the village now, of course. Raise a family with Arany.”
Oludara laughed heartily. “Do you think I am so old as to settle down and never leave my hammock? The Tupinambá warriors leave their families for months at a time on their war campaigns, why can’t I?
“Our time together has been the best of my life as well, and we have much left to do. My people say, ‘A father’s honor makes his son proud’, so before I begin fathering children, let us perform deeds worthy of them!”
Gerard sighed in relief. “Then I suppose we have a wedding to attend. But let me speak with Yandir first, and try to give this ceremony at least some semblance of a Christian wedding.”
“Whatever you wish, my friend.”
#
Gerard, again dressed in his finest, stood beside Oludara in the village center. Yandir stood before them, wearing a
headdress of red feathers which hung to his knees, and several collars of polished stones. Gerard’s cross also hung among the collars, an addition which had required no small amount of arguing.
“Well,” said Gerard, “here we are. I hope this wedding is worth it.”
“My people have a saying,” said Oludara. “ ‘He who marries beauty, marries trouble.’ I knew from the first time I saw Arany, she would bring me much trouble.” Both of them chuckled.
Arany came from her cabin and approached. She stopped a pace before Oludara and looked left and right nervously.
“You need worry about him no more,” said Oludara.
She smiled and took his hand.
“Now,” said Gerard, motioning toward Yandir, “we can start!”
“What was it you want me to say?” asked the pajé.
Gerard turned to Arany and asked in Portuguese, “How do you translate ‘dearly beloved’?”
Arany shook her head.
Gerard said to Yandir, “Just say ‘husband and wife’.”
“Husband and wife,” repeated Yandir.
“Now, ‘kiss your wife’,” he said, coming as close as he could in Tupi to ‘kiss the bride’.
“Kiss your wife.”
Oludara and Arany came together awkwardly, first striking noses, then making disjointed movements to make their lips meet. They finally connected for a quick smack.
“A bit strange for the both of us,” said Oludara. “It is not our custom.”
“And in the way of the Tupinambá,” said Yandir, “we present the wedding bed.” He held out a newly fashioned hammock.
“Now this will come more naturally,” said Oludara as he reached out to take it.
He picked up Arany in his muscular arms and carried her off to their group’s longhouse.
Gerard clapped. The natives glanced at each other and shrugged. Yandir slapped his hands together one time, then another, and soon the others joined in, clapping and cheering for the newlyweds.
“Well,” commented Cabwassu to a nearby group, “I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that anymore!”
#
A puma rolled onto her back and stretched out, enjoying a nice bit of sun beside her favorite muddy river. After making a snack out of a caiman earlier that day, she had felt the urge for a nap.
A noise from downriver alerted her and she flipped over. She spotted the same dark man and native woman she had seen weeks before.
She thought it curious to see the two together again. Knowing that Curooper had claimed the girl long before, she had warned her cousins, the two jaguars which served him. Perhaps he had tired of the woman.
When the two humans lay down beside the river and mashed their faces together, the puma lay back down, unconcerned. After a few minutes, however, they began performing other actions, and she was forced to leave and find someplace quieter.
END
Gentle Reader,
Thank you for taking the time to read “The Discommodious Wedding”, where Oludara and Arany discover what we’ve known all along: getting married is never easy!
Please consider leaving a review of this book on Amazon and earning my eternal gratitude. I can’t stress how important these reviews are for the future of this series.
If you haven’t already, please consider signing up for my newsletter, which is the best way to keep up with the series. I send it out just once every two months, so you don’t need to worry about receiving a bunch of irritating e-mails. You can also drop me a line at EAMB.org, Facebook, or Twitter to let me know what you think of the stories and what you’d like to see in the future!
Regards,
Christopher
Interested in further tales of Gerard and Oludara? There are several other titles available in this series, action-packed fantasy adventures that can be read in one sitting. Just $0.99 each or FREE on Kindle Unlimited.
Acknowledgements:
In the first book, I thanked those who helped make the original novelette a success; in the second, I thanked those who have helped make the series a success in Brazil. In these acknowledgements, I’d like to thank those who have helped me become the writer I am today.
Aliette de Bodard has been a constant almost from the beginning, my first and most steadfast friend in the writing world. I would also like to thank my “con posse”: Traci “T. L.” Morganfield, Al Bogdan, Terra LeMay, Beth Dawkins, Dru Miller, and the gang from Viable Paradise XI, including Julia Dvorin, Kim Vandervort, Eric Griffith, Heather McDougal, Remus Shepherd (and Beth), Pam Bennett-Skinner, Jeff Soesbe, Mark Teppo, and MacAllister Stone—they all rock! Other longtime writing friends I need to thank: Jeannette Kathleen Cheney, Steven Silver, Tony Pi, Terri-Lynne DeFino, M.G. Ellington, Catherine Schaff-Stump, Marshall Payne, Dan Goldman, Mike Brotherton, Russell Bittner, Donald Crankshaw, Kristin Janz, and Bill Lawhorn. I can’t forget Jeff Wheeler, the first editor to publish one of my stories, “Daddy’s Little Boy”, back in 2005 in the pages of Deep Magic. Other editors also had a great effect on my early career: Sonya Sipes, Jim C. Hines, and Paweł Ziemkiewicz.
And that’s just the northern hemisphere. This series is, in many ways, an homage to Brazil and its people. The Brazilian science fiction and fantasy community does so much with so little, and many wonderful people have gone out of their way to welcome me. I need to thank everyone from my first contacts—Leo Carrion, Simone Saueressig, Thomaz Albornoz, and Ana Cristina Rodrigues—to the dozens who have supported me along upon the way: Tiago Castro, Clinton Davisson, Felipe Castilho, Bruno Schlatter, Ana Carolina Silveira, Samir Machado de Machado, Christian David, Daniel Borba, Marcelo Bighetti, Nikelen Witter, Uillian Vargas, Marcello Simão Branco, César Silva, Edgard Refinetti, Estévão Ribeiro, Fábio Fernandes, Jacques Barcia, Giulia Moon, Max Mallmann, Erick Sama, Ricardo Andrade, Gerson Lodi-Ribeiro, Ana Lúcia Merege, Sílvio Alexandre, Társis Salvatore, Adriana Amaral, and Tabajara Ruas.
A special thanks to the WCM’s A. Z. Cordenonsi and Enéias Tavares and to the “Argonauts”, my inseparable friends and co-founders of the Fantastic Literature Odyssey: Duda Falcão and César Alcázar.
I should also mention the hundreds who have critiqued my stories, far too many to list in these pages, but I will mention the many organizations to which they belong: Speculations, Critters, Zoetrope, Viable Paradise, The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), Codex, The Brazilian Science Fiction Reader’s Club (CLFC), The Writer’s Association of Rio Grande do Sul (AGES), Duotrope, and The Grinder. I owe a great debt to the members and the volunteers who run them.
It takes one person to create a book, but thousands to create the writer. Thank you all.
About the author: Longing for the old days of discovery but lacking new places to find, Christopher Kastensmidt decided to explore the frontiers of the global economy by moving from a high-paying job at Intel California to a penniless start-up in southern Brazil. Ten years and many adventures later, he sold the company to entertainment giant Ubisoft, where he served as Creative Director. He later left the company to pursue a career as a writer.
During his career, Christopher has produced games that sold millions of copies and written stories published in over a dozen countries. He has been a finalist for many awards, including the Nebula Award and the Argos Award, Brazil’s highest prize for speculative fiction. His stories and graphic novels from The Elephant and Macaw Banner series have been adopted in hundreds of classrooms around Brazil.
Christopher currently teaches scriptwriting and game design at UniRitter University in Porto Alegre. He is one of the organizers of the Fantastic Literature Odyssey, Brazil’s largest speculative fiction convention.
-moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
The Discommodious Wedding Page 4