Chapter 19

The Wedding Party Arrives

"Here they come!” Kami cried, jumping up and down with child-like excitement, her hazel eyes sparkling.

All the castle’s inhabitants not obliged to be at work were gathered by the main gates, awaiting the arrival of the wedding party. Jelena estimated they numbered at least a hundred people, about a third of the castle’s population. The massive, iron-bound wooden gates had been opened a short time earlier, upon the arrival of Lord Dai’s herald. Ashinji, astride a big black horse, waited at the center of the entrance, the herald behind and to the side.

Jelena had received a quick lesson in elven wedding etiquette from Aneko last evening. It all seemed quite complicated, but then, so were the nuptial customs of Soldaran nobility. According to tradition, Ashinji’s duty as the brother closest in age to the bridegroom began with his greeting of his sibling’s bride at the castle’s outer gate. He would recite a ritual greeting to the bride’s parents, then escort the entire party up to the keep where Lord Sakehera waited with Sadaiyo and the rest of the family.

Once the prescribed greetings and exchanges of token gifts between the parents of the couple had taken place, all would sit down for a midday meal. The bride’s face would remain veiled, to keep her hidden from her future husband. Sadaiyo would not be allowed to see or speak to his bride until that evening, after the official Ritual of Welcoming had been performed, the second and most important of Ashinji’s duties.

The ritual served as a formal declaration of acceptance by the groom’s family; without it, the bride would have no official place in the family, despite a legal marriage. Ashinji had spoken briefly of it, confessing to Jelena that he would be very glad when his part in his brother’s marriage would be over.

Jelena had not seen or spoken to Ashinji since their last language lesson three days ago. She threaded her way through the crowd to stand close to the gates, near enough to watch Ashinji and observe the wedding party at the same time.

She fought down the urge to call out to him. Never had she seen him dressed so richly, in brocaded silks of peacock blue and emerald green that matched the color of his eyes. His hair hung unbraided, the sides held up off of his face with a silver clip set with blue and green stones.

Ashinji bowed formally, from the waist, as Lord Dai reined in his horse just inside the gate. The large wedding party numbered at least three score, with many retainers and guards in addition to Lord Dai’s family. Several heavily laden wagons brought up the rear. Ashinji urged his mount forward until he and Lord Dai sat shoulder to shoulder. Jelena strained to hear as Ashinji delivered the ritual greeting, but she stood too far away to catch the softly spoken words. Lord Dai nodded once, firmly, and allowed a smile to soften the stern lines of his face. Ashinji then wheeled his horse, and the entire procession clattered noisily through the gates, colorful banners snapping in the air.

Surrounded by guards, a beautiful wooden carriage rolled by Jelena’s vantage point, pulled by two sturdy, shaggy-footed draft horses. Carved likenesses of warrior maidens adorned each corner, and the entire brightly painted conveyance flashed with silver and gold leaf accents. As she watched, Jelena thought she saw the merest sliver of a woman’s face peak out from between the gauzy curtains covering the window.

Someone jostled her from behind and she turned to find Kami at her shoulder. The elf girl giggled with glee. “Did you see her?” she asked breathlessly. “That was the bride, there in the carriage! Weddings are such fun! Wait ‘til you see all of the wonderful food we’re going to get. I can hardly wait for Gendan’s and my wedding day. Of course, ours won’t be nearly so grand.” Jelena had to laugh. Kami’s high spirits were infectious.

The crowd began to move forward, following in the wake of the horses and wagons toward the upper gate. “C’mon! We don’t want to miss a single moment!” Kami grabbed Jelena’s hand and pulled her along with the flow of cheerful, chattering people.

The wedding procession passed through the upper gate and pulled up in front of the keep. With Jelena in tow, Kami pushed to the front of the crowd of castle dwellers, who maintained a respectful distance from the proceedings. Kami nudged Jelena excitedly. “Look, there’s my Gendan standing there by the door! Doesn’t he look incredibly handsome and smart in his parade armor?” Kami’s love for Kerala’s Captain of the Guards suffused her face with a sweet glow. Despite her ribald talk, no one who knew her had any doubt that Kami’s heart belonged to Gendan and no other. Jelena knew what that kind of love felt like; only, for her, there would probably be no happy ending.

Lord and Lady Sakehera stood hand in hand before the open doors of the keep. To Lord Sen’s right stood Sadaiyo, coldly resplendent in a beautifully decorated robe of yellow and red silk. Jelena could not help but admire the intricacy of the workmanship, for the entire garment shimmered with an intertwining motif of flowering vines. Every few heartbeats, Sadaiyo would reach up and tug on the high collar as if the stiff fabric irritated his neck.

Arrayed in well-behaved silence behind their elders, the three Sakehera daughters stood with Lani, the oldest, stationed behind her two little sisters, a hand on each small shoulder. Their robes were more simply decorated, but no less finely crafted than their brother’s. 

Ashinji and Lord Dai dismounted and handed their horses off to waiting grooms, as did Lord Dai’s captain, who immediately walked back to the painted carriage. The door swung open, and he offered his hand in assistance to the woman who emerged, blinking, into the sunlight.

By her age and the conservative cut of her dark blue gown, Jelena surmised that this must be Lady Dai. She was a tall woman—stately even—with jet-black tresses confined beneath a headdress of silver wire hung with merrily dancing leaves.  After adjusting her headdress to her satisfaction, she allowed the captain to escort her forward and hand her off to her husband. The guard then trotted back to the carriage and held out his hand to the other occupant.

The woman who next emerged wore a resplendent gown of gold and white silk, embroidered all over with tiny pearls. A heavy white veil, secured by a gold headdress wrought to look like a garland of flowers, concealed her face. The captain led her forward where she took her place on her father’s arm opposite her mother.

Even though her face remained hidden, there could be no mistaking this woman’s identity—Lady Misune Dai, future Lady of Kerala.

Together, with Ashinji in the lead, the noble guests approached their hosts. Ashinji bowed deeply to his father and mother, who acknowledged his obeisance with nods of their heads. He then began to speak in his clear, melodic voice. “My lord and lady, Father and Mother, they who have brought your son and Heir his bride have arrived. Will you welcome Lord and Lady Dai into your home?”

“I welcome you, Lord and Lady Dai, to Kerala,” Lord Sen replied.

“I also welcome you and she whom you bring to join with our House,” Lady Amara added. Lord and Lady Dai bowed their heads in the proper acknowledgment between social equals; their daughter bowed more deeply, from her waist.

Lord Sen continued the formal introduction. “May I present to you my eldest son and Heir, Sadaiyo.” Sadaiyo’s bow to his future father-in-law was stiff, as if it pained him to have to show the correct amount of respect. His arrogant visage remained impassive. Jelena’s gaze darted back and forth between Sadaiyo’s face and his brother’s. Ashinji’s beauty owed as much to the kindness of his spirit as it did to his physical attraction. Sadaiyo was just as handsome, yet Jelena felt cold fear knot her gut when she looked at him.

Next, the two sets of parents exchanged gifts. Two of Lord Dai’s servants came forward at his signal to present a large bolt of fine, sea-green silk to Lady Amara and a bow made of rich, dark wood to Lord Sen. 

After a few words of admiration, Lord Sen pulled a small leather pouch from his sleeve.

“I hope these little baubles will bring you some pleasure, my lord and lady,” Lord Sen said. He upended the pouch onto his open palm and two black pearls the size of hazelnuts spilled out, their iridescent surfaces gleaming in the sun. A soft murmur of appreciation rippled through the assemblage.

“They are most satisfactory, my lord,” Lord Dai replied, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement of the richness of the gift. Lord Sen carefully dropped the pearls back into the pouch and pressed it into his guest’s hand.

“Come. A meal has been prepared,” Lady Amara announced. “You must be very tired and thirsty after your long journey.” Lord Sen waved his guests forward and everyone visibly relaxed. Jelena guessed that the formal ceremony of greeting had concluded. The two noble families filed up the steps and disappeared into the keep while the servants of Lord Dai began to mill about and the Kerala staff dispersed. A few folk remained behind to mingle. Gendan came forward to speak to Lord Dai’s captain. The two men talked animatedly as if they knew each other. Gendan then spoke to the driver of the carriage and pointed toward the east wing of the keep. Jelena watched as the painted coach rolled away, a small knot of servants trotting briskly behind.

“Well, that’s it for now,” Kami sighed. “Oh, here comes my man!” She scampered over to meet Gendan as he approached and flung herself into his arms. The passion of their kiss made Jelena blush and lower her eyes.

“Jelena! Jelena, c’mere!” Kami called out, waving. Jelena sighed and walked over to where the lovers stood, arm in arm.

“Hello, Captain,” Jelena greeted the older man formally.

“Jelena,” Gendan replied.  Captain Miri had never been very warm toward her, and she knew the reason behind his reticence, but neither had she ever felt any malice from him.

“Gendan has a few hours off, so we thought we’d take a ride out to the old stone circle. Will you tell Aneko where I’ve gone so she won’t come looking for me?”

“Yes, of course.” Jelena answered.

“Just wait ‘til I get you alone, my girl!” Gendan’s voice crackled with mischief. He tickled Kami, and she squealed in response, twisting in his arms to punch him playfully in the chest. Captain Miri had left his youth behind some time ago; Kami had just entered into the fullness of womanhood, but despite the difference in their ages, their temperaments seemed a perfect complement each to the other.

“You two have good time,” Jelena said.

“Oh, we always do.” Kami sensuously nibbled on Gendan’s ear. It seemed to have the desired effect, for he grabbed her by the hand and hauled her off, stumbling and giggling, toward the gate. Kami waved happily, skipping a few steps to regain her balance. Together, the two lovers disappeared through the gate, leaving Jelena standing alone.

Only a few people remained in the upper yard, mostly house servants and the two guardsmen at the doors. Jelena wandered back down to the lower yard, thinking about Kami and Gendan and how lucky they were to be able to love each other openly and proudly. She imagined them making love in the deep grass of the stone circle, and it filled her with a longing so intense, she found it almost too much to bear.

Ashinji had looked so handsome today in his formal clothes, his beautiful hair shining like the fine silk of his garments. In her mind’s eye, she replaced Gendan with Ashinji and imagined herself lying in his arms, her naked flesh entwined with his. Gods, how it hurt, knowing that she would never experience the warmth of his love. 

The lower yard stood empty, with only the soft cooing of pigeons in the eaves of the barracks to break the stillness. The day’s excitement at an end, the castle would quickly settle back into its routine.

Jelena’s thoughts turned to Magnes. She wondered if her cousin had returned home, only to find Amsara shut against him. He had committed a serious crime when he had helped her to escape. To make matters even worse, he had turned his back on a marriage contract, an act that most certainly cost Duke Teodorus a dear price, both financially and socially. The duke was a proud man and would not easily forgive such disobedience.

Jelena had known loneliness her entire life, but what she felt now was an entirely new experience. Magnes had been the last link to her old life, the only person in Kerala who knew her entire history firsthand. In a very short time, she had been forced to shed every vestige of Soldaran identity. She now lived, dressed, and spoke as an elf. She had even begun to think and dream in Siri-dar; still, she felt her otherness as acutely as she ever had back in Amsara.

She had found good friends in Aneko and, especially, Kami. Friendship with other women was a pleasure she had heretofore been denied. The easy camaraderie she felt with them amazed her, and yet, she felt the inescapable fact of her humanblood would forever set her apart from them. The irony of the situation was not lost upon her.

Ashinji had never tried to sweeten the truth for her about elven attitudes towards those of mixed blood. The folk of Kerala were especially tolerant because of their close proximity to human lands and a long history of interaction and commingling, but Ashinji warned that she might encounter prejudice as bitter as that which she had endured in Amsara, if and when she ever traveled beyond the relatively tolerant boundaries of eastern Alasiri.

As a rule, people of mixed race, referred to as hikuiin Siri-dar, did not have the same legal rights and protections under the law as did full-blooded elves, though within Kerala, Lord Sen had decreed otherwise. Jelena’s best hope lay in finding her father or his kin. If she were accepted, then she would be fully protected as a member of his family.

The wedding celebrations would be finished in another three days. At that time, Jelena was to take up her new duties as a messenger, which would give her the opportunity to seek out information on the possible identity of the man who had fathered her. With her ring and Lord Sakehera’s help, she felt confident that she would soon know the truth.

Jelena looked up to find that her feet had carried her to the stables without any conscious direction on her part. She thought about going in and choosing a suitable mount, but a voice called out her name from behind. She turned to see Aneko striding briskly towards her.

“Jelena, have you seen Kami? She was supposed to report back here after everything was finished.” The older woman looked as if she had just come from the bath house. Her dark hair hung wet and sleek to the middle of her muscular back, shining like an otter’s pelt in the sunlight. Her face wore a look of mild annoyance, as if a harmless but none too amusing practical joke had just been played upon her.

“Kami is with Gendan. She told me tell you so you would not look. They went off…uh, to old circle stones.”

“Ai, Goddess, that girl! She promised she’d take my shift if I traded with her so she could watch the bridal party,” Aneko grumbled. “I can’t very well complain to Gendan, now can I? She’s going to get herself knocked up long before her wedding day if this keeps on.”

“What is ‘knocked up’? Oh, yes. Pregnant?”

“You are learning Siri-dar very fast,” Aneko said, nodding approvingly. “Soon, you’ll be able to curse with the best of us.”

“Is pregnant before marriage bad thing here?” Jelena asked.

Aneko shrugged. “Uhhh, it’s not what most women would choose, but it happens. There’s no shame in it…not much, anyway. If it happens to you, Jelena, no one will think the worse of you.”

Jelena looked down at her dusty sandals, hoping that Aneko could not see her chagrin. “I…I was going to choose horse…for me, for riding as messenger.”

“C’mon, then. I’ll help you.” Aneko smiled and started towards the stable doors. Jelena followed, still clenched a little inside.

Like a hidden message woven into the fabric of metaphors that made up a poem, the meaning behind Aneko’s words could be gleaned with just a bit of conscious thought.

If it happens to me. If I bear Ashinji a child, there won’t be any shame in it. No shame, perhaps, but no celebrations, either. 

Best for everyone if that never happens.