Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

13. The Dangers of Fishing

For the whirlwind of passions she set in motion, Lydia was an ordinary-looking woman. Plump, round-faced, with coarse features. She had a ready smile though, and her eyes, while small, had a spark. Years imparted dignity, but she remained down-to-soil not dazzling the rest of us with Divine inspiration. She didn't impart awe with the exquisite perfection of body and movement like Parneres' sister did either... and Sharim loved her.

Anyone could see it, particularly me, who had only recently tasted the fruit of forbidden love and so was sensitive to its signs. The touches abandoned midway, when lovers were drawn together instinctively, but the reason repelled them. The clandestine glances yanked hurriedly away in fear of reciprocation. The unsaid truth filling the long pauses between trite exchanges.

But maybe I saw forbidden love everywhere precisely because I was experiencing it? Spurned love could look so much alike. So, what kind was Sharim's?

Once we were alone between the sky and the sea, I made a tentative foray to find out.

"Lydia'll come around. You'll see," I said.

"Gossips!" Sharim spat zestily into the waters after the disappearing divers.

"Don't blame them, Captain. Blame your face."

Sharim held out while we stashed the first catch of the day into the hold. Once the divers rested, they grabbed the ballast stones to help them on the way to the oyster banks, empty baskets to fill with oysters and knives to harvest them. Then they jumped overboard again.

Once the last of the four women disappeared in the water, Sharim muttered, "It's not Lydia's fault. It's the pox-ridden porcupine her mother made her marry."

"I bet," I said, though I'd never met Lydia's husband.

"Lydia's family owned their business for seven generations. Always it went from mother to only daughter. So, yes, it was out of the question for Lydia to stay unwed and childless."

Sharim shrugged and I repeated her gesture in solidarity. "The husband didn't mind his place?"

"Worse. He's a petty man, full of poison, like a puffer fish. He's just confessed that he bought a curse from a rogue Scribe. Said with that curse, Lydia's womb would only sprout boys. The wretch laughed about it. Laughed!"

I gawked. "But it's a curse on him too!"

"Ah, but he blames it on us. Lydia and I, we've been together since... well, since we both were your age. I could have been more than a fishing boat captain, but I stayed on the Naiad for her. He knew from the start, everyone did. How's that any different from another husband? But no, somehow he couldn't stand it."

"It sounds like an idiotic way to exact revenge," I said. "The more boys his seed quickens into, the more likely she's to divorce him."

"That's what he wanted, I suppose, for her to set him aside, pay his keep, and he'd be the victim in the eyes of his mother and sisters. But Lydia is a decent woman, and their two families were tight for generations, intermarried before... So she refuses to turn him out, even after giving birth to three boys."

"He's lying," I said with conviction. "Just trying to cover up that his seed is only good for making boys. It's his fault."

Sharim sighed. "That's what I've told her a thousand times. But she went to a fortune-teller who put an idea into her head that she could break the curse if she marries a pure boy."

Did the Head Priestess hear this ridiculous tale before she presented Kozima as a prospect? A match based on mutual affection or familial business interests was one thing, but this was a superstitious ritual, unworthy of Gala's blessing. My poor Kozima was heading for a hellish marriage.