“Where have you been?” Oaka whispered to him. Oaka was wearing Sisila’s red scarf around his neck.
“Nowhere,” Basha said, lowering his eyes.
“You sneak off with Iibala again?” Oaka teased, smiling.
“Again?” Basha exclaimed in a low voice, raising his head. “Where’d you hear that? I haven’t been with Iibala since…” Basha groaned. “I don’t understand what Iibala is doing, but I’m telling you, whatever you think happened between us tonight didn’t. Do you understand me?”
Oaka slowly nodded and then looked forward again as the line of boys started to move. Oaka probably didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. The Courtship Ritual had begun, and Basha breathed a sigh of relief. With Hastin and Iibala out of the picture, he was free to ask Jawen to marry him.
The Rock was a six-foot-tall boulder, manually leveled and smoothed out on top to make a platform. Steps were carved into one side, and Basha watched the first young man clamber up the steps to proclaim his love for the woman standing below him, among a crowd of young women at the foot of the Rock. And that’s when he realized. He’d been so worried about things getting messed up between him and Jawen tonight that he hadn’t thought about what he’d say when it came time to propose to Jawen. He’d forgotten about the dower too, the groom’s-to-be gift to the bride-to-be.
“This isn’t going to work,” Basha muttered to Oaka.
“What’s not going to work?” Oaka asked. “Aren’t you a tad late to be regretting your decision to fall in love and marry Jawen?”
“I mean that I don’t know what to say to her. What should I offer her for the dower?”
“The dower? Isn’t that more of a technical detail?” Oaka asked Basha.
They were getting closer to Lovers’ Rock. More young men climbed up to make their pronouncements, and then jumped down a few moments later to run off with the young women accepting them, and the people applauded.
“The dower’s not a technical detail,” Basha argued. “The dower is the most important part! It’s like forgetting to read a very important chapter just before the big test!”
“Like we haven’t done that before,” Oaka muttered.
“That’s what the whole Courtship Ritual is about!” Basha said. “The groom has to offer the bride something of value in exchange for her love and acceptance of marriage. The groom has to offer her something, because the groom’s love might not be great enough to equal the love of the bride-to-be. And so the dower has to be bestowed upon the bride in order to restore the upset balance.”
“Basha, calm down.”
“I’m calm, Oaka! The dower given to Jawen has to be great in order to equal her value! She means more to me than any other girl I’ve ever known. She’s more important to me than anyone or anything, and I have to show her and the world, just how much she means to me!”
“Basha, snap out of it!” Oaka yelled. “You’re being…” He shook his head. “Just step up, ignore the crowd, and proclaim your love for Jawen, which should be easy enough for you to do, since you’ve been telling her that more times than I can count. And then just, I don’t know, offer her your love. If she really loves you, then she’ll accept you for who you are.” Oaka sighed and shook his head. “You know, I don’t understand you sometimes.”
“But I’ve nothing to give her!” Basha cried, glancing down. “I feel like I should give her something important to make her feel appreciated, and yet I’ve nothing of value, nothing material.” He looked up. “Love is all that I’ve got to give her, and that’s not enough, not for Jawen. I’ve got to show her I have something of value to offer her, something material and important and worthy of her love for me,” he said, holding his hands out as if begging for his brother’s understanding. “I’ve got to show her I can support her when she marries me.” He lowered his hands. “Jawen has always been worried about what we’re supposed to do after we’re married.”
“Then you should offer her something affordable and practical, perhaps something within your means. Like a house, or your horse.”
They were a few paces away from the Rock, looming larger now as fewer young men stood in line ahead of them.
“A house isn’t something I can afford right now, and Talan is another matter entirely,” Basha said. “I might give her my horse, but then how will I travel if I get into the Border Guards? I need my horse to support myself before I can support her!”
“Then offer her your wits, Basha, I don’t know what else to say! I’m just trying to be helpful here, but if you’re not going to listen, then forget it.”
“I’m listening to you, Oaka, but you’re not telling me anything I haven’t thought of before.”
Oaka stared at him. “It could be anything or nothing, just as long as it means something important to both you and Jawen, eh?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Basha said.
“The whole purpose of the dower is to prove that you love somebody enough to give them something in exchange for their love, some proof that their love is as valuable to you as it is to her?” Oaka said, trying to reason it out. “It could be the stars and the moon that you give her, if you want to go that far, or it could be a book, like a book of poems, or a book of romantic epics, if you want to show her the love contained in those pages.” Oaka scoffed to himself. “You and Jawen would probably love the book idea.”
“I can’t think of anything like that. It doesn’t seem important enough for me to give to Jawen,” Basha said.
“The smallest token, or the largest symbol, the most mundane or the most impractical…You can give her anything, Basha, just as long as she accepts it,” Oaka insisted, glancing forward. “And she will accept it if she wants to marry you. That’s the only rule in the Courtship Ritual, Basha,” he said, turning back to his brother. “That she has to accept what you’ve got to offer her, if she wants to marry you.” He smiled. “Watch what I do,” he said, for it was his turn now.
Oaka strode forward from the head of the boys’ line. Basha watched as he climbed up onto the Rock, not even fazed by the crowd in front of him as he struck a pose on top in his most heroic and dashing fashion. Basha smiled and laughed when Oaka wobbled, steadying himself as he broke his pose, and the rest of the crowd laughed as well at Oaka’s shenanigans. Oaka managed to smile and laugh at himself as well. “All right, everyone, you all know who I am, Oaka, the first true-born son of Geda and Habala, and I proclaim that I love Sisila, daughter of Baron Augwys!”
There were some people who gasped at this announcement, shocked that he could be so bold, but a few people cheered and whistled. They knew Oaka and Sisila had been together and loved each other, maybe they thought it was a fine joke to steal the baron’s youngest daughter right out from under him, something a young man like Oaka would do. Basha, meanwhile, was a little peeved at the “true-born” comment, but he supposed that it was necessary for the sake of the record.
Oaka said, “I know that some of you are surprised to hear that, and some of you are not, but in any case, we love each other and don’t care what anyone else thinks!” He pointed at his red scarf and held up the tip of it.
People cheered as Basha glanced at the baron, who was sitting in a collapsible chair underneath a canopy at the edge of the clearing. The baron was the town’s representative of the king of Arria, a figurehead for the king’s divine authority on earth, and he presided over the ceremony as a patron of the townspeople. Basha worried that Baron Augwys, the Right Honorable Lord of Coe Baba, would interfere with Oaka’s proposal, or stop the ceremony, but so far, he’d not made a move. Apparently, he would allow the Ritual to proceed. Oaka was lucky.
Oaka sighed and turned to face his beloved to say, “All I can say is that, Sisila, if you’re willing to have me in marriage, then I’m willing to give you everything I own.” He placed his hands over his chest. “My heart and my love are yours, my father’s inn that I’ll inherit one day is yours, and everything I’ll ever make belongs to you, because y
ou’re the one who inspires me to do what I do every day!” He pointed at her and then asked, “Will you have me in marriage, Sisila, and will you be ready to marry me soon? Because, my darling, I’m ready! Let’s get married!” he cried, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Yes! Yes, Oaka, yes!” Sisila squealed, jumping up and down for joy.
The people clapped as Oaka whooped, jumping down from the Rock and rushing over to sweep Sisila up into his arms, hugging her tight. The people cheered as Oaka kissed Sisila, and Basha watched, sighing to himself.
He was jealous, he realized, turning toward where Jawen stood beside Sisila, jealous of Oaka’s good fortune to be marrying a woman who appreciated him for what he had to bring to their marriage. Jawen stood stiffly at attention, staring at the scene with something akin to sorrow in her eyes.
Basha wondered if Jawen really wanted him, or Hastin, to embrace her like that. Basha inhaled deeply as he realized it was his turn to step up onto Lovers’ Rock. He hoped he was ready. As Oaka and Sisila receded into the crowd, receiving congratulations from everybody all around them, he advanced from the remnant of the boys’ line to the Rock.
He had to grip an edge to climb it, hugging himself against the Rock and squeezing himself vertically forward in a crawl. It took him a minute to reach the top, and he rose unsteadily onto his feet, like a man taking his first steps on dry land after a long voyage. He looked down at everyone enshrouded by darkness and the flickers from the bonfire that burned a short distance away. He now stood on the same level as the branches of the old birch tree. His first thought was that he was in trouble.
He’d been up here once before with Monika, but now his eyes stretched to the ends of the crowd filling up the clearing in the near-darkness, and everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to speak. The only sound was the bonfire crackling in the background and the bated breath of maybe a thousand people. Basha gulped as he realized the enormity of the event. He felt unsteady and attempted to spread his feet apart to keep his footing. It was either that or fall off into the faces of the crowd below. He realized now why Oaka had struck such a heroic pose; it was only to keep his balance.
Basha stood in front of them, people that he’d seen almost every day for most of his life, and then he spotted Jawen, standing at the edge of the crowd of girls, not looking up at him. What’s the matter with her? he thought, peering across the distance, as he wondered if her expression was one of happiness or contempt, anticipation or dread. He tried to read her face, which he couldn’t quite see, overshadowed in the darkness by firelight, and moonlight, as if Sitha herself had drawn her veil across Jawen’s face.
He didn’t know if this was going to work. Taking a deep breath, he said, “My name is Basha, the adopted second son of Geda and Habala, and the trueborn son of a woman named Kala. I come on this day to proclaim that I, Basha, love Jawen, daughter of Lapo and Mawen!”
The crowd before him clapped, louder this time than they had when he’d announced his name, but they didn’t appear to be as surprised by his choice of fiancée as they had been with Oaka. Had Basha and Jawen not hidden their love as well as Oaka and Sisila had theirs? He heard a faint roar of disapproval in the distance and knew, without even looking, that it would be Lapo, but he looked up anyway, to make sure that Jawen’s father wouldn’t interfere with this ceremony. However, it seemed that Lapo was far enough away that he couldn’t reach him, plus there was some resistance to Lapo’s efforts. He saw someone come up to Lapo to confront the man, while other people pushed back at him so that he couldn’t move forward.
Basha felt confident enough at this interval to say, “I, Basha, ask Jawen if she will accept my love and my hand in marriage.” He looked down at her now as he began the formal part of his proposal. She was the only one who mattered to him at this point. He tried to clear his mind of everything that had been bothering him before, but it was difficult when all he could think to say was, “All that I can offer her is my love, my home, and, uh…”
Oh, the dower, the dower; it all came down to the dower. Oh, Tau, Welda, and Quela—he realized that he’d made a mistake proceeding with the ceremony like this without thinking things through clearly. Jawen was looking up at him, her big blue eyes riveted upon his face with such hope in them that he didn’t want to disappoint her by offering her some measly little thing, some token that didn’t mean anything to either of them. She needed hope, change, and a chance for something more, just as much as he needed her. He’d always tried to impress her, ever since they were children, and now was the perfect time to do just that, if only he could think of something.
Oaka had said it could be anything or nothing, just as long as she accepted his proposal, but Oaka had it easy compared to him in that regard. Oaka could have offered Sisila anything, and she would’ve accepted him straightaway, without a thought. But for Basha and Jawen, it was different, when she had her father and her lifestyle to think about, and he had nothing to give to her that seemed important and worthwhile. Oaka and Sisila loved each other in such an easy, carefree way it seemed nothing could come between them, not even Sisila’s father. Basha was jealous of that love, because he had nothing to compare to it.
Jawen needed more from him than just love. She needed his worth and value as a young man who could step up and take her away from her father without either one of them worrying about the future ahead. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time, to when they were just children here, underneath the old birch tree, listening to Old Man’s stories—not in love with each other, and not thinking much about the future, but knowing who they were and where they belonged.
“Arria, may you reign in her name, Arria may you be with us evermore. Tau’s Cup was brought forth…”
“The balnor boy who was taken in by the innkeeper…”
“So the god Tau, king of the Cloud Rulers, took the Cup from his table…”
This was it, Basha realized; she needed to know just how much she was worth to him. As the people shuffled and muttered among themselves in the crowd, the hope faded from her eyes. He had to come up with something fast; he either had to say something or step down, and he knew that he wasn’t going to step down, not after he’d just started, and so he decided to say the first thing that popped out of his head. It probably wasn’t the wisest thing he could do, but it was the only hope he had.
He blurted it out, the words that would mean the world to him. “And, by Tau of the Great Valley, I offer her the Cup!” Basha cried, in triumph and in ecstasy. “Will you marry me?” he added. But such a blithe moment wouldn’t last long in his mind.
A cheer momentarily escaped the crowd’s lips before it changed into bewildered murmurs and gasps of horror. For they realized what he’d promised, and as Basha stood there on top of that Rock, his heart sank as well when he realized his mistake. What a stupid, impossible, terrible thing to promise to Jawen, yet there was no going back. He looked out toward Jawen, a little less eager now than he’d been before. He couldn’t take back his words, nor could he break his proposal to her and try again, for this was the only chance he’d have to propose to her, according to the laws and traditions of Courtship Ritual. And even though this dower wasn’t what he would’ve expected to give to her, at least it was something he could give to her, even if he had to go to Coe Pidaria to get it.
Chapter 11
Torn Asunder
“Do you choose me, my love? Do you
Choose me over everyone else in the world?
I hope so, my love, no matter what that means.
Choose me over the consequences of your actions.”
—A love poem, Mirandor
There comes a moment in every person’s life where he or she’s faced with a choice and wondered, How did I get here, where my future rests upon this one choice, this one decision that will save or end me?
Jawen was at such a juncture. She’d been waiting for him to make his proposal, hoping he chose to ask for her. Iibala was nowhere near the crowd of girls, as
Jawen had done her own scanning to confirm this, and Basha seemed to be looking toward her when he got onto the Rock. She was soon rewarded for her perseverance, patience, and faith in him as she heard her name called out. She knew she had him.
Yet she didn’t answer him straightaway. It was customary to wait and listen to the full proposal, so she bit her tongue when she wished to say yes straightaway. He seemed to hesitate at giving her dower, knowing that he had to give her something that would top her expectations, yet her expectations were so low that she would’ve accepted anything just then. She feared he might step down without finishing his proposal and end it here, without any marriage arranged between them.
But then he said…Jawen gasped like so many others; he was so reckless and audacious, and this very thing he offered her was so marvelous and valuable. She knew what Tau’s Cup was, everyone knew that. She couldn’t help but accept his gift.
“I, Jawen, accept your love and the offer of the Cup, by Tau, and I’ll marry you!” Jawen cried amid the growing hubbub of the crowd that nearly swamped her voice, but Basha heard her. He jumped down and rushed into her arms.
She ignored the rest of the world in those few brief moments of life and love, Basha kissing her and she kissing him, holding onto each other and not letting go. But then they were pulled apart, as if by wild animals.
“Jawen! Jawen!” she heard her father cry, and she turned her head to see the rest of her family. Basha was pulled in another direction by a different part of the crowd, questioning him as to his sanity, it seemed, or congratulating him awkwardly on his marriage engagement, and Jawen didn’t get the chance to see or speak to him again that night.
She was surrounded by her family, Tukansa and Annalise running underfoot while Rajar, Fence, and Talia teased her mercilessly about Basha. Mawen and Lapo remained quiet, muttering to themselves, before they were joined by Baron Augwys.
“Rather an exciting night, wouldn’t you say?” the baron remarked to Lapo.
The Smiling Stallion Inn Page 13