“Ysys-Ka is mine. She belongs to me under the Leaf Law of Betrothal. Am I clear? She! Belongs to me! My love grew in her heart as a great oak, and she knows it to be so. Of her own words she once told me, ‘There can never be another, for no other man in the land compares to you.’ I am telling you, she is mine and cannot be given to another, least of all some alien, whose skin has the disgusting color of a child’s.” Continuing in the secret language of the tree people, as taught to him by the sisters, Ashim declared, “My root has penetrated her heart and none can ever displace or uproot my influence, try as they may. I claimed her virginity, which she willingly gave me. That makes her mine by law and by nature and by the custom of our people. First love has first claim to marriage. For one seedling cannot easily displace another once it takes deep root.”
Long Swan felt sickened. Anger welled up in his chest. The heat was rising in his face, and his mind was on the ragged edge of control as he attempted to sort out everything he was witnessing here. The urge to grasp his sword and settle this matter with Ashim became overwhelming, yet he knew composure was critical to success in this situation so he bit back his anger.
The Arym Gaeleans were shocked, but the Ele-Anoreans, were filled with utter contempt for Ashim. Though it was difficult, Long Swan knew he must trust to the Chartreuseans to sort this out in their own way, but his honor was already offended.
Raising his staff for quiet, the chief countered coldly, “You speak to the letter of the law. That is true,” Eyf said. “But you do not speak the whole truth. As Perle-Ka has expressed, we have full confidence in our daughter’s judgment and discernment. I will therefore let her speak to you directly on this matter, for ultimately the decision is her’s alone to make.”
Ysys stiffened her shoulders before she stepped forward. Long Swan felt the urge to hold her back, but refrained.
“Ashim,” she said in a strong clear voice, “you pretend to cherish the customs of the Chartreuseans, but only when they favor your desired results.You have conviently forgetten that you have violated the most sacrosanct of Chartreusean customs in giving forbidden knowledge of the sacred plants to the uninitiated. A crime the great mother, Arym Gael and your forefather, Eng, would have banished you forever for. I was too young to comprehend the blasphemy of such an act at the time. I was but a child barely budding green, when you took me in the firestorm and confusion which young love brings on. I was like a blindfolded maid in the eyes of this village, because you spoke to me in the language of love, but poisoned that same love by wrapping it in your drugs and sorcery.”
She then switched into language of those who have been initiated into the sacred customs of the Chartreusean tree people. “It is true that your root penetrated my heart first and that I thought none other could replace it, but I have found a greater root which has displaced your seedling entirely out of my heart. All that was mine, that was in you, I now take back and give to Long Swan. It was also true to my maiden mind, I said no man in the land compares to you. But Long Swan is not of this land, and he is by all my senses and by the eternal spirit that burns within me, a far greater man than you may ever be. Do not deny me this, my true love. Yes, our love once grew like an oak, but now Long Swan is like ivy, which is unequivacably the stronger of the two trees. And he, like ivy, will grow up the oak and displace all of its branches and grow beyond anywhere the oak is capable of. And this, even as the Bee Queen had foretold to me. Finally, as ivy, Long Swan is an evergreen, the lord of all trees. I denounce you as the usurper of my maiden affections that you were, the violator of my tender virginity, and I hereby break any claims you may ever have thought you had on me, Ashim. Before God, nature, and all our people here assembled. So let it be done.”
Ashim’s throat pulsed with anger and he clenched his fists as Ysys declared her free will and final choice before him.
Chief Eyf spoke up immediately. “I am perhaps too close to this to speak fairly, but I cannot shed my scepter. If it is the will of the people that Ysys-Ka marry the outlander, Long Swan, which she has declared before all here assembled that it is her will and that Long Swan alone is her true love, then let the voice of the people be shown by the raising of the right hand.”
All except Ashim, his father, and a half dozen of their followers from Geilt on the coast, raised their right hand. The chief declared, “The winnowing has proven the approval of the joining which will occur at the next new moon, three days hence.”
Amidst the cheers and shouts of good wishes, Ashim ripped off his loin cloth, stood indignantly naked, and threw it to the dirt before Ysys-Ka’s feet. It was a Chartreusean insult equivalent to saying, ‘The shame is on you.’
The Ele-Anorean contingency spat at Ashim as he stormed out, an equally offensive Chartreusean insult that is done only in reference to simony and profaneness.
The air was charged. More forces than a marriage were at conflict here.
The grafting feast that followed left Ysys in a very gay spirit. She danced with the other maidens of the village in a circular dance in which she leapt and ran. He watched her leap, marveling once again at her grace and beauty, but his heart was in turmoil. He went through the motions of celebration and greeted all the villagers that came up to congratulate him. After the Ele-Anoreans came up and shook Long Swan’s hand and congratulated him before leaving, he was finally all alone out of hearing distance from the crowd of merry makers.
Ary stepped near him and took him by the arm. “Long Swan, my dear friend, I know you tend to be the silent one in crowds, but I’ve seen enough sick sheep to know you are emotionally isolating yourself for some reason.
Just then Elf Beard came up and gave Long Swan a big hug. “You’ve done well, Ol’ Boy. You’ve found a stouthearted girl there that’ll bear you some strippling warriors one day. She is one you can be right proud of and to hell with that arrogant bastard, Ashim. If I ever see him in a hunt, I’ll flay the bastard for you and leave him for the fowls of the air to stab him with their horny beaks.”
Long Swan smiled at his old friend, but before he could respond Xelph came over to join them, looking a bit sheepish.
“You have triumphed, old friend. I am sorry that lush, Ashim, rained on your hour of joy. May the gods favor you, and may the Rite in the Secret Place cleanse you of the filth of that letch forever.”
Long Swan was touched deeply by Xelph’s words and his voice choked. “Thank you, Xelph. You don’t know how much that means coming from you.”
He was shaking Xelph’s hand when Jackie Doo came up. “That’s a fine lady you have out there dancing. If I had been you, I’d have cleaved that strutting frog right down the middle and hung his ass out on a stake to rot in the sun.”
Long Swan laughed. Every instinct he had had told him to do just that, but his whole upbringing had him lean towards social propriety and restraint.
After all the festivities died down, Long Swan kissed Ysys good night, said goodbye to Chief Eyf and Perle-Ka, and chose to walk down the road to the camp with just Ary.
Yorel shouted back, “Only two more days till the grafting.”
Long Swan waved and continued walking. “Alright, tell me what’s ailing you.” Ary said. “You know I can keep a brother’s secret.”
Long Swan was not one to share his inner thoughts easily, but tonight he felt the need, besides who else was as close as Ary. “Ary, the whole damned dramaturges of the scene at the joining seems so surreal, as though I were caught in the web of some sort of bad dream. My hands were tied. It isn’t the way Ashim said it, it’s what he said.”
Arundel furrowed his brow and gave a concerned look. “What are you troubled by? Is it the virginal imprinting of her to that cod fish that troubles you?”
“It’s not the loss of her virginity that bothers me. These people have no idea of the construct of a Herewardi heart. Our desire for pure love escapes them, but it’s too much a part of us to ignore.” He kicked a stone out of the way. The brown leather boots he had polished to a sheen we
re now coated in a grey dust. “Honestly, Ary, what really stabs me the most is that I have this haunting voice deep down inside prodding me to suspect that she still harbors a lingering love for Ashim. Loves him more than me or loved him deeper than she will ever be able to love me. After all he was her first love.”
“Oh, Long Swan, methinks you do greatly err by reason of having lost Faehunig to Saxwulf. You’re still living in the past. My father always taught me that a good woman is like a gold coin. Even if you find her in the mud she will remain untarnished.”
“You’re not hearing me, Ary.” Long Swan declared impatiently. “Listen! You know that first love is the most powerful and no one has the power to duplicate it. After all she was forced to reject, it did not originate from within her. How could a love that strong ever be broken? What if all she ever thinks about when I am making love to her is him? I mean you saw him. Built like an elk, handsome as a rooster, and he had her when she was young enough to have powerfully imprinted. You know, when the wax was hot. How could I ever hope to possess powers strong enough to break such a natural imprint? After all, I’m even a virgin.”
“My friend, you live too much in your head. Sometimes we need to linger in the chaos until order emerges. The problem, as I see it, is you have a powerful heart that drives the demons of your mind to distraction. There is nothing I can tell you that would convince you that you are better than him because the very nature of jealousy is to believe your opponent is superior to you in every category. But I can tell you this, our ancestors knew how to heal us of such things.”
Long Swan felt hope spark. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“You, of all people, should know that our ancestors had the foresight to know that people are not perfect. We all have flaws, even our most revered prophets, seers, and lords. They were wise enough to know that in the throes of young love we could falsely imprint onto someone entirely not right for us. That is why they instituted the Rite of the Veil. To make us whole and give us the power to become wholly one by re-imprinting, so long as we yield our hearts fully to the process.”
“This was not the script I had written for my life. All was going along as I had scripted my life when the Goddess Freya ripped Faehunig from me. I was just starting to regain my balance and believe in love and now once again, Ashim threatens to take Ysys from me, if not physically, spiritually, and that I cannot abide. Better to be alone than live with a wife who holds back a portion of her love from me.”
“I have faith in the gods of our fathers. Perhaps the gods and the Norns have laid down this fate for you and created trials for you that will work for your own benefit, to make you a better man than you could ever make yourself. I believe the Norn sisters have set tight the warp of our fate. We cannot change the threads of their warp, but we can weave the woof any color we want. You can choose to trust the gods, and weave the woof of love for Ysys into your life, or you can choose to allow Ashim to weave his dark threads in there. Do you want to embrace these dark threads that sear your heart and entangle your mind? Or do you wish to weave your own colorful threads over that dark background into a marvelously artful tapestry. One day, Ashim’s dark threads will be nothing more than an ennobling contrast.”
Chapter 15 : Against Her Will He Took Her
The Goddess Freya was spinning the distaff of the Wheel of Heaven, but she had not declared her will to any mortals. The Joining was soon to take place at the new moon, just before the Equinox and she had taken a very special liking to Long Swan in coupling with Ysys. After all, had she not long ago spun the navel cords of Long Swan’s and Ysys’ bloodlines.These threads would not be allowed to slip.
She called out to her sister goddesses, “Come ye sisters of Osgard, let us go down and let me show you the apple of my eye and what fate I have devised for my dear man child, Long Swan. Long have I held his heart on the balance of my scale, winnowed him like barley, and weighed it against my swan feather. Now, I shall render my judgment. Let us go down to the isle of his habitation and witness for ourselves the works of my weaving.”
The goddesses of Osgard declared in one accord: “Oh Holy Mother, Goddess of Love, we will go down to the man Long Swan in Midgard and work thy miracles with thee according to the weaving of the Norns.”
* * *
Ysys had successfully finished the remainder of her instruction process. In two days time the sages would arrive to escort her to the sacred ceiba tree for the final Rite of Joining. The queen of Ele-Anor-Ness had sent her a beautiful dress of peacock blue linen for her wedding along with her most loving wishes. The twelve sisters of the ruling council came to visit with Ysys and after receiving her final vow of commitment, administered a special blend of male and female herbs to facilitate the blending of the nuptial energies during the joining.
It was later that same day that she learned from her mother that Ashim had violated his banishment and come to her village once again, appearing suddenly on her door step. Even though he pleaded for access to her, her father refused him entry. Once again he attempted to dissuade her father by suggesting he postpone the joining to allow him to win her back.
Like an avalanche, all the emotions she felt at fifteen came crushing down on her heart and feelings she had thought to have buried came bubbling to the surface. She had to push them down into the bottom of her heart. How could I possibly still have feelings for Ashim. Had he spoken truth when he warned me that I could never banish him from my heart, even if I wanted to deny it?
That night was unusually dark for summer. The sky blanketed it in even deeper darkness, shutting out the light like the top of a coffin. After sharing a quiet repast with her parents, Ysys bid them good night. She went quietly alone into her hut which was adjacent to her parents’ larger hut. Setting her candle on a table, she pulled out a small woven casket from under her bed. Propped up against her soft wool filled pillows she sat upon her bed, took a deep breath, and caustiously opened the lid she had for so long refused to look under.
Inside were the mementos of her young adulthood. As she opened the lid further, there on top was a folded black bandana of Ashim’s, which he had wiped her tears of happiness away with when they first made love in his bed. She buried her face in the Ka-Pok bandana, the faint odor of Ashim still lingered, unleashing a torrent of memories. One-by-one she removed the treasured items. Her hand shook slightly as she unfurled a cloth containing an oak-leaf wreath. Ashim had made it for her on the day he had asked her to join with him. She had expected to wear it on the day of their joining, but when her father refused him, she packed it away along with all her hopes and dreams. Now, as she looked at the dry lifeless leaves, she thought back to those times. To her great surprise, she could slip easily into all those tender feelings she had held for Ashim once again she remembered his tender eyes as he deflowered her. The feelings awoke from their burial like hordes of cicadas emerging from the soil of the past. “No, no, no, it can’t be. I can’t be feeling this. I love Long Swan.”
With hot tears streaming down her face, she grabbed the wreath in rage and gave a silent scream. She ripped it apart leaf-by-leaf until she broke every single branch and she stomped upon the remains of the dried leaves on her hut floor. She considered the children they might have had together and how they would have never known the joys of a stable family life, nor would they have learned the proper training in the use of plants. How could she still care for Ashim when he had come to poison the one pure relationship she had ever known.
Ashim wounded her heart with the venom he spewed out at the winnowing that evening. But what must Long Swan’s heart feel like, she thought. Sometimes, a witness to an assault is more affected than the victim.
The extreme emotions she felt with Ashim poured into her like a muddy river of love and hate, churning together til they no longer could be separated, but with thoughts of Long Swan came a clear flowing fountainhead that pushed the murky waters of Ashim to one side of her feelings. She had forgotten how she had often left the presence of
Ashim with feelings of fear and misgivings, and a certain lingering darkness that she could never quite understand. But with Long Swan she always left him feeling uplifted, inspired, and yearning for the next encounter. Long Swan had never made love to her, but she knew he would be good. Any time she embraced him she could feel his masculinity envelop her.
Ashim viewed children as a burden. Long Swan valued children and family. She remembered how shocked she was to learn he had seventy-seven brothers and sisters. He explained to her that it was the custom of his people to have more than one bonding, which gave her great pause, until he assured her that he had no interests in joining with anyone else unless she first agreed. Something she was sure she would likely never do.
As she gazed down at the scattered remains of the wreath, she realized anew she that was making the wiser choice of Long Swan. They would make a good life together and be happy. Long Swan possessed a depth of soul that most men lacked and she had only ever discovered in Zschamillah and Mack-Ka. As she wiped away her tears, she thought of how cherished and beloved Long Swan made her feel. She threw the bandana back into the casket, slammed the lid, and shoved it back under the bed. She was determined that on the morrow, she would burn the contents of the casket to ashes and cast them into the marshes for the serpents to lick up.
Just as she was preparing for bed, she heard laughter coming from outside. She ran to the door and was greeted by a shower of flower petals from her friends and their younger sisters. Her friend Daphne-Ka held up a torch. “We’ve come to see the dress Zschamillah sent you.”
Daphne’s younger sister looked frightened. “But won’t it bewitch us Daphne?”
“Nonsense, Ynys. You listen too much to Grandma Ruis. Come on Ysys show it to us.”
“Wait outside here, and I’ll come out with it on, but you won’t see all its beauty just by torch light.”
The Bok of Syr Folk Page 25