The Dawn Magus

IV. DAL ZAMIR

          Bel bent her head into the nape of Hukr's neck and spoke so that only he could hear.

          'Who invited the Dal,' she asked as neutrally as she could.

           Hukr's embrace did not loosen but his crying seemed to die down as he thought of a reply. He let out a large sigh and pulled back, wiping his eyes. Their faces were still within an inch of one another.

          'I knew you might not agree but she said it was best. She recommended them. Dal Zamir had experience with her children as well.' Hukr tried to maintain eye contact with Bel, but it was hard. Her eyes, like her mind, were searching for a name.

          'Who!' She whispered harshly. This time she heard someone shift in surprise behind her, near Yural's bed.

        'Iska! Your sister!' Hukr said it quickly. He kept glancing behind Bel at their daughter. He was desperate to get the ceremony underway. Every movement he took made the tools in his pouch jingle and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of them as soon as possible.

        'You could not consult me on this? She couldn't-' Bel was suddenly drawn upward onto her feet. Strong hands let go of her shoulders as quickly as they had taken hold. She began to spin around to see who would dare, but before she could Hukr stopped and turned her head to face him. He continued to look past her at the person.

         'Uncle, we will be but a second,' He sniffled, and Bel realized that they were both crying again, 'She is having a hard time let-' his voice broke, '-letting her go.' He dropped his head as his hands fell down slowly from Bel's face.

         'Do you know what they will do to Yur-' before she could finish her name, Hukr's head snapped up and he dragged her roughly into the hallway and shut the door behind them. Now his eyes were filled with anger, reflecting shifting candlelight.

        'You cannot say her name! Have you gone mad? Is this what you think is right? Summoning our daughter after death? Arguing about tradition! How dare you!'

         Bel was frozen. Not once in their nearly 6 year marriage had he handled her this roughly. Moreover she was surprised by his restraint. She had seen many an aumen woman slapped by her husband for insubordination and she had long since been dreading that Yural's death would provide the perfect moment for Hukr to assert his total authority. To prove once and for all that this was a contract, not a partnership. But there he went, spinning away from her, walking to the window at the end of the hallway and pressing his face against the uneven, opaque panes.

          Still, Bel was too raw to accept this.

         'She is my daughter, too. You don't know what the Dal will do to her.' Bel stepped towards him.

         'Neither do you...', he said softly, 'You have never been to a funeral, and god willing you never will.'

         'I haven't been to your people's funerals, it is true. But it's not a funeral for them. It's a harvest.' she felt her bottom lip quiver, 'You want her to be respected? With a Dal she's less than a being, she is a thing.'

         'But you don't know! Your sister said you would be wary, that even she had no experience before Dal Zamir, and she knew you might protest.' He turned away from the window to face her. Between them the candles wavered.

         'I'm not allowed in there.' Bel stepped closer to him and reached out to grab his shirt sleeve, 'I'm not supposed to say her name. I'm not supposed to question the Dal. And you wonder why I am mad.'

          They were both losing steam. She knew that no matter what, it was Hukr, his family, and the Dal against her. Would it have been different if the Dal had not arrived? Bel didn't know, perhaps she had been poised to fight for her inclusion this whole time. But Dal Zamir was part of an institution older than the town itself. An institution that had always looked upon her kind with a hunger and curiosity that almost all luterians registered as perverse. And now that person was in the room, with unmitigated access to her daughter, with her sister's recommendation and her husband's approval.

         Was the world turning inside out?

        'Trust me,' Hukr placed his hand over hers and gently pulled it off of his sleeve.

        'Is it really trust if I have no choice?' She searched his face for some kind of understanding, some relenting. 

        'You must.'

        She shook his hand off and they stood in silence.

       'Perhaps you should've let me know that she was not privy to our agreement, Master Hukr.' a smooth, resonant voice piped up.

        Both Hukr and Bel jumped at the voice. Bel turned to see the shape of Dal Zamir stepping into the hallway. The ends of their white robes hovered above the floor, enchanted not to get soiled. It gave the Dal the appearance of a spectre.

        'I apologize, Dal,' Hukr stuttered in surprise, 'I was going to send her to my mother's with an escort. She is just-' He glanced at her, 'not very knowledgeable of our customs.'

        'To be sure.' The Dal spread their arms out in a gesture of understanding, 'But, it seems both of you are unaware of the Magus' customs.'

        Bel and Hukr exchanged confused glances, and Bel realized that she had grabbed onto Hukr's hand. The Dal smiled.

        'Your sister Iska was very kind to me, Abelment. And not once but twice, as you know-'

        'I was not invited to their funerals. It was against the customs.' Bel said sharply.

        'No, we had to uphold some of the death rites. However, you are now aware of the help I offered your sister. And that is because I allowed her to participate. I have no intention of excluding you, as a mother. Had I known that there was no communication on that point, I would have made it known.' The Dal looked past Bel, 'It is an honest assumption, Hukr, that she not be involved. However, Abelment, you must join us.'

         At this the Dal stepped backward and motioned towards the door. Hukr's breath caught and Bel put a hand on his chest. She took a tentative step forward.

        'What are you going to do to my daughter?'

        'Nothing that I wouldn't want you to understand,' came the smooth reply.

         Bel could see that the Dal was smiling in the dim candle light, but it wasn't a cruel smile. She turned to Hukr and he seemed conflicted. His eyes darted between Bel and Dal Zamir. On one hand, he had been brought up not to sully traditions and customs. On the other, the Magus was beyond tradition, it provided order and authority. He had never seen someone refuse a Dal, or argue with one. He had certainly never imagined that a Dal would relent to a luterian.

        Hukr nodded silently at Bel. Do as you will. Even though Bel wasn't sure what kind of liberty she had just been given, she knew at the very least, she had access. She stepped slowly toward the open door between her and the Dal, keeping her head down. The males within must have heard the conversation but she didn't want to enter into another argument by viewing her daughter and breaking another tradition.

        The Dal's hand reached out before she entered and a slender finger touched her chin, raising her head. Without pretension or malice, the Dal commanded her so that all could hear.

       'Look at your daughter.'