Chaart Acrat 1 - The Flying Bride

Chapter 2

The traditional dress didn't fit Owata well. She was extraordinarily tall to be a Fiaan, taller than any of her parents, but as heavily built as they were. She was sometimes called a horse among the Fiaans, but in comparison with the other breeds she drew no specific attention. Fiaans were always the shortest.

Her mother and father were dressed in blue, for the bride's parents usually were, and they seemed even more nervous than Owata. They had never been wandering around in the Tshers' part of the village without being forced to do so by their work. The Tshers that walked past them were gazing at them disparagingly and whispering to each other.

The chief's house was not enormous, but it was higher than any of the buildings Owata had seen before. A blond Chend standing by the door crossed his arms when Owata and her parents stepped on the stairs of the veranda. "Owata Gyolam and her family?"

Owata's father offered to shake hands with the guard but he snorted and gestured them to follow.

They made their way to a wide parlor with three large windows that showed the glimmering sea behind the cliffs. The room was filled with sunlight but the atmosphere was made gloomier by three serious-looking faces behind a high table. Chief Aca and her spouse were looking noble in their green-and-white ensembles, Siarme was sitting stiff beside them, staring at his teacup.

"Gyolam," said the chief, stretching the name like a string of a bow, ready to shoot an arrow towards the enemy. "Owata Gyolam."

Owata felt cold sweat run down her neck. Her parents bowed and she copied the act quickly.

"Sit down."

Siarme raised his eyes from his cup when Owata tried to climb on the chair facing him. Owata went pink. For a moment Siarme was looking at her without showing any signs of recognition, then he gave a silent laugh. Owata focused on straightening the skirt of her dress. She knew she and her parents were looking silly, like small children in adults' tea party. She wondered if the chief had chosen the table purposely to humiliate them.

"Let us talk straight and honestly," the chief said and sighed theatrically. "According to the recent occurrences we could say that Soothsayer Raakshe is starting to show signs of incapability of doing her job." The chief let her gaze go around and observed the guests' reactions. Owata's mother was sitting straight, pushing her chin forward and frowning.

"I think it would be best for you to take this appointment as a mere necessity... Of course you will understand what's going on. This sure is something... inappropriate, so to say," the chief continued, smiled and squinted. Her dark thin face was looking even more sinister with the artificial smile than without it.

Owata's mother coughed. "Are you telling us that the marriage must be canceled?"

The chief burst into vivid laugh and seized her teacup. "Oh, that would be most tricky, don't you think? Against the traditions and strange as well?" Her eyes were twinkling. "We're lucky not to have that problem. No contract of the marriage has been done. Leave this to us, and we'll arrange it so that both parties will have a chance to get a new partner decided by a new soothsayer."

There was a silence. Owata took a look at Siarme. He was sitting still and looking Owata in the eyes completely expressionless. Owata startled.

"I wonder if that will happen so easily..." Owata's father muttered.

"You should speak louder if you wish to get answered," said the chief moving her lips exaggeratedly.

"He didn't want to offend you, but he's doubting whether you'd manage to bury the planned marriage. At least Raakshe would cause some trouble," Owata's mother said.

"Are you supposing that a chief wouldn't have enough power in her own village so that her son would have to marry a filthy worker!"

"Filthy worker!" Owata's mother cried and jumped down from the chair pushing the table so hard that the teacups spilled. Then she seemed to remember who she was talking to. "I'm sorry to hear that our daughter isn't eligible for your son," she hissed behind her gritted teeth. "And it's a great pleasure for me that we don't have to meet like this again." She turned around to leave, and Owata's father also stood up nodding hesitantly.

Owata felt the others looking at her. She stood up slowly, bowed and followed her mother who was already marching towards the front door. She tried to wipe the corner of her eye as imperceptibly as possible, but she knew Siarme had seen the tears in her eyes before they had started to run down her cheeks.