Read Tears of the Dead Online

Authors: Brian Braden

Tears of the Dead (37 page)

39.
Swimming Lessons

It is by the sea the Lo mark the transitions of their life, including birth. The mother floats on her back in waist high water, supported by the village women and tended to by the patesi-le. The men wait with the expecting father on the Köy-lo-hely.

While the baby is still underwater, the cord is quickly cut and tied. The patesi-le raises the child to the sky for its first breath and declares, “From water you emerge, by water you will be sustained, and through water you will pass.”

 

The Chronicle of Fu Xi

***

Since the Adoption Ceremony, Levidi’s raft bustled with activity. He busied himself inventorying salvaged rope, watching events transpire around him.

Su-gar rarely left Alaya’s side since the Adoption Ceremony. Levidi tried to console his wife, but she kept driving him away, spending the days alone in their boat. Both Sahti’s death and losing the twins had devastated her. Only Su-gar had any luck coaxing her out. For this, Levidi was thankful. Since Su-gar spent so much time on the edge of the Lagoon, so did Spako and Ezra.

Ezra, Su-gar, and Spako had become almost inseparable. Strangely, Spako seemed to grow fond of Ezra as the days progressed, following the young man around as much as he followed Su-gar. The giant granted fealty to Ezra, as if in tribute for defeating him in combat.

Levidi figured every man had a code by which he lived, even a simpleton like Spako. Levidi liked having them around. Everywhere the giant went, the children followed, and children always made Alaya feel better, even though Kus-ge forbade E’laa and Toma from visiting.

Perhaps that was best, Levidi thought. Having them present would only drive Alaya back into her seclusion.

When Alaya felt better, the crowded raft felt like family. Levidi liked it that way, a blessed bright spot in a gloomy world.

For Levidi the night would only get gloomier. Soon, he would relieve Ghalen by Xva’s side. Atamoda decreed the man should not be alone during his mourning. But for now, Levidi enjoyed the delicate light and laughter the moment afforded him.

And at the moment there was ample supply of both. Spako wallowed around Levidi’s raft; giggling children crawled all over him, tugging his beard and climbing his shoulders as if he were a tree. Sometimes the children tried to tickle the giant’s belly, sending Spako rolling on the deck in huge gouts of infectious laughter. In a chorus of giggles, the children piled on.

“Spako!” a cold voice commanded from the edge of the raft. “Come, we have work to do.”

Virag emerged from the rain curtain and marched up to Spako. The children shrank away from the slaver, scurrying towards where Alaya and Levidi sat next to the brazier.

Levidi stood. “What do you want?” He almost called Virag ‘slaver’.

“I am only paying a visit, and come to fetch my old friend.” He grinned and tugged Spako’s sleeve.

“Get up, fool!”

Spako shambled to his feet. Eyes downcast and face slack, he dutifully followed Virag. Then, right before stepping through the rain curtain, Spako stopped and looked mournfully over his shoulder.

Virag reemerged from the rain curtain. “Come on, you oaf!”

Spako’s eyed narrowed on the slaver. “Virag not Crane. Spako, Crane.” He looked at Su-gar, who stood next to the Lagoon. “Su-gar, Crane, so is Levidi.”

“What are you talking about? Come!”

Spako returned to his place next to the brazier. “Spako, Crane.” The children screamed with joy and mobbed Spako once again.

Virag burst forth, brushing the children aside. “You will not ignore me. You’d be dead without me!”

It happened so fast Levidi didn’t have time to react. Su-gar screamed as Spako seized Virag around the throat, lifting him off the deck. As casually as a fisherman tosses a net, Spako hurled Virag back through the rain curtain and onto the adjoining raft.

Everyone stared at the sheet of rain water, behind which there rose a great cacophony of crashes and snaps and shouts. Then, they heard Virag utter such a string of Sammujad curses, Alaya told several of the children to cover their ears. But the former slaver did not return.

Spako plumped back down and crossed his arms. “Spako, Crane.” He looked quizzically at Levidi. “Crane Spako’s family.”

Levidi threw his head back with deep, joyous laughter. He slapped Spako on the back. “Oh, yes, my friend. We are your family!”

***

The raft settled down following Virag’s exciting departure. Soon, the children returned to their own rafts and boats, and everyone began to quiet down for the evening.

Su-gar watched as Ezra splashed from one end of the Lagoon to another. Back and forth he went, swimming against the current to the upstream rafts, and then letting the current drag him back to the downstream boats.

She wanted to giggle, but knew better. He only came here after the children went to sleep. Sometimes Okta or Ghalen came and gave him pointers, but mostly he swam alone, trying to learn in a few days what the Lo knew how to do from birth.

More than once over last two nights she considered jumping in to save him. But following a big swell which swamped him or slammed him against the downstream boats, he always came back up.

Alaya appeared next to her. “He’s getting better.”

Su-gar nodded. “I suppose.” She crinkled her nose and turned her head sideways. “I think all that splashing frightens the water into submission.”

Alaya smiled, highlighting the dark circles under her sunken eyes. Su-gar hadn’t seen her smile since the Adoption Ceremony. Sahti’s death had sent her even deeper into mourning. Seeing her come out of the boat tonight gave Su-gar hope.

“Maybe you could give him some tips instead of standing here all night watching him suffer…” She poked Su-gar in the ribs. “…
and
admiring him!”

Su-gar smirked and batted her hand away. “I guess I could give him a few good tips.”

She stepped to the edge of the raft and sat down, feet dangling in the water, waiting for Ezra to make his way back to the upstream edge.

Gasping and grasping, Ezra finally reached the edge beside her legs. He wiped the water from his eyes and looked up as if surprised to see her.

“Why are you watching me?” he said defensively.

“I’m not. I’m listening to the rain.”

Ezra looked around at the raindrops dancing off the water. “I don’t notice it anymore.”

“I do. Sometimes it sounds like voices, especially when it splashes.”

Ezra frowned and looked about. “What do the voices say?”

Su-gar wondered if she’d said too much, if the a-g’an boy would think her mad. She looked down at her toes sticking out of the water. “It’s nothing.”

“Back home, when I was a boy, my sister and I used to climb the mountains. She swore she heard spirits in the wind echoing down the canyons, though I could never hear them.

“What does the rain say?”

Su-gar relaxed. “It tinkles, like a bronze leaf tied on a string outside the smithy’s bellow. It laughs when the breeze blows. I think the spirits are happy tonight.”

“Happy? I don’t know if the spirits will ever be happy again.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, she wanted to change the subject.

“You should really have someone watch you,” she said. “One good wave and you’re going under. Your legs and arms don’t seem to talk to one another.”

Ezra turned red. “Okta says I’m making good progress.

Su-gar shrugged, trying not to let Ezra catch her admiring his shoulders. “If he says so, but I bet he’s never taught anyone to swim.”

“He taught his boys how to swim.”

Su-gar bit the inside of her lip, trying her best to suppress a smile. She crossed her arms and put on the most serious of looks. “Fathers and mothers don’t teach their children how to swim.”

“Okta says he taught lots of children how to swim.”

“That’s what he wants you to believe, but it’s children who teach each other how to swim. I mean
really
swim, like a fish.”

Ezra considered her quizzically. “How do children teach each other how to swim?”

Su-gar’s eyes danced with mischief. “Like this!” She jumped on top of Ezra, dunking him underwater.

He came up, sputtering and furious.

“You can dunk me back, but you have to catch me first!” She laughed, and kicked gracefully toward the downstream edge.

Half screaming, half laughing, Ezra lunged after her.

***

The water is warmer.
Before, Sana couldn’t bear to put her feet in the icy sea. She sat alone on one of the downstream boats, letting the rain caress her body and kicking at the swells as they passed below her. Behind her, light and laughter drifted across the arun-ki. Excitement at the prospect of the wedding breathed new life into the Lo, helping them forget their hunger and Sahti’s death, at least for a little while. She looked over her shoulder at Ezra and Su-gar laughing and swimming together.

Perhaps Ezra and Su-gar’s laughter warms the sea
. She knew the makings of a blooming romance. She liked Su-gar, though Sana often caught her looking at the Uros with a lover’s longing.

Atamoda sees it, too.
The patesi-le’s patience amazed Sana. If a Scythian maiden looked at another’s man in such a manner, she’d have found her throat cut before the next sunrise.

The Lo were brimming with patience, but whether that was wisdom or folly she did not know.

Su-gar feel’s a girl’s love, strong but harmless.
Perhaps with Ezra, Su-gar would learn to love like a woman.

Sana giggled.
How would I know what it is to love like a woman?

She turned and stared across the infinite blackness as her smile faded.

I am so lost.

Atamoda told her the Lo gods were driven away by the Nameless God. She said their ways would have to change, just as the world had changed. Perhaps the grim Scythian gods, Be’laam and Molok and a dozen blood-drenched others, were gone, too. Perhaps it didn’t matter if she no longer possessed
Death
.

Sana leaned over and peered into the water, wondering if she fell in, would her soul be condemned to a coward’s death. She didn’t know if her gods still reigned, but she knew the demons were real, even if they were banished.

“You take chances for someone who can’t swim,” Ghalen called from the end of the line of boats.

Sana pulled up her legs and held them against her chest. She slid into the bottom of the boat.

“You weren’t in the line,” he held up a small ball of fish. “I drew your ration. May I join you?”

“No.”

“Good.” Light as a cat he stepped through the boats, the little hulls barely dipping as he passed.

Ghalen settled cross-legged beside her. She drew away, looking around to see if Ezra and Su-gar still swam. Now only waves frolicked in the empty lagoon, reflecting the dimming braziers on the Crane side of the Spine. They were as close to alone as anyone could be in the arun-ki.

“I want to be alone.”

He held out the fish. “Eat, and I’ll leave you alone.”

Her stomach growled fiercely. As tired of dried, stale fish as she was, Sana’s mouth watered. She took the fish and stuffed it in her mouth.

“I’ve eaten,” she said with muffled voice around the dry wad. “Now go.”

Only wearing his loin cloth, he looked so at ease, arms resting on his knees. She didn’t want to look at him, and stared away instead.

“What was his name?” Ghalen asked.

“Who?”

“The prince to whom you were betrothed.”

“What makes you think it was a prince?”

“You are a princess...or were. You’re of age, and not disagreeable to look at. I assume your father would have arranged your marriage to a prince.”

Not disagreeable?

“His name was Warzameg, a prince and powerful warrior from the northern steppe. We were to be wed in late winter before the elk returned to the Adyghe Mountains.”

“War...zah...meg,” Ghalen slowly intoned. “You a’gan have some very strange names, difficult to pronounce.”


Our
names are difficult to pronounce?” Sana shot back. “Every mark on the mast is a day my tongue has tripped over itself trying to spit out your impossible Lo words.”

Ghalen looked hurt, but she knew better. “What are you talking about? Our words are easy, once you know what they mean.”

“They are gibberish!”

“What does your name mean?”

Sana paused.

“Is it a secret?”

“Among my people, the source of one’s name is power. There are words one speaks every day, and there is the language of names, spoken only by the witches and the dead.”

“Hmm,” Ghalen grunted and shrugged. “Well, my name comes from old words, before the time when your people invaded the g’an, when Aryan, Sammujad and Lo spoke very different tongues. It means
iron spirit.”

“That is a powerful name.”

Other books

Gods of Mischief by George Rowe
Love Kinection by Jennifer James
Special Deliverance by Clifford D. Simak
Betrayal by Robin Lee Hatcher
At Night We Walk in Circles by Daniel Alarcón
The Beast by Oscar Martinez
Perfectly Dateless by Billerbeck, Kristin