The Lioness of Shadi

11 - Between Things

The hum of a bowstring quickly became as familiar to Ilati as the sound of her own name. As days became weeks, calluses thickened on her hands and the draw of the bow seemed more and more natural. Her accuracy still left something to be desired, but her strength was improving by leaps and bounds. Menes helped in that regard with his lessons on grappling and moving weights. Like a snake shedding its skin, her temple manners too were gradually being discarded. It felt more and more natural to sit around a simple fire under an open sky, eating without a plate or thought of decorum, listening to raucous laughter and outrageous boasting. The only thing she knew she would never develop a taste for was the fermented mare's milk that the Sut Resi drank instead of beer.

Ilati ran a rough comb carved from olive wood through Roshanak's tangled hair. The girl had gone for a swim in a creek that crisscrossed the area, eagerly pursuing a few small frogs. It was comforting to tend to Roshanak, the way she would have looked after an acolyte in Zu's service: a reminder of the good in the past without the pain of its ending.

Roshanak sat patiently while Ilati worked out the tangles, though her delicate fingers were always in motion. They drummed across her thighs or sketched patterns on her forearms, following the lines of blue tattoos. The intricate threading lines formed exquisitely feathered wings, far more elaborate than any henna painting Ilati had ever worn.

Ilati watched Roshanak circle with one finger the stylized wings tattooed around her right forearm. "Did that hurt?"

"A little. The ones on my face hurt more." The Sut Resi girl sat between Ilati's knees in front of the fire, clearly content with her position. "But I wanted them and Artakhshathra said I could have them this year."

"What does it mean?" Even as an outsider, Ilati had learned that the Sut Resi's tattoos had great significance almost immediately. Not having them was perhaps the greatest marker that she was not Sutta, not one of the People.

Roshanak traced over the wings again. "This one is a prayer to Skyfather, that my bow arm be swift as a hunting eagle." Then she moved her hand to brush her tangle-free hair out of the way, touching the concentric circles tattooed onto the back of her neck. "This is a prayer to Earthmother, that my backbone be as proud and strong as the bones of the earth."

Ilati smiled faintly as she finished the last tangle. She set the comb aside and moved to sit beside Roshanak instead of behind her. "What about this one?" The priestess tapped the twisting marking that ran down Roshanak's left cheek from just below her eye. It reminded Ilati of an ink tear that had coursed down her cheek, though the swirling patterns of it were far more elegant than a simple streak.

The Sut Resi girl covered the marking with her hand. "This reminds everyone I am a second soul. I don't like it very much." Roshanak's voice lost its usual chirping energy, as if the thought of it made her tired.

Ilati ran a soothing hand down Roshanak's back when she heard the change in the girl's voice. "Why not?"

Roshanak relaxed slightly at the reassurance, but the twist of her lips was still sorrowful. "People don't like betweens. The world comes in opposites, not mixed up things. Everything natural comes in twos."

The priestess furrowed her brow at that, trying to make sense of that explanation. "What do you mean?"

Her young friend held up two fingers. "Light," she said, touching her index finger. Then she touched the other finger. "Dark." She repeated the gesture. "Sky." Then again she shifted. "Earth." Roshanak pulled in a deep breath. "Alive." She touched her second finger then. "Dead."

"You are very much alive, Roshanak, or this would be a strange conversation. Not everything comes in twos. Things can be not one thing and not another." Ilati rubbed along her jaw, trying to think of a way to explain herself. "I mean, dawn is changing from one to another, dark to light."