A Woman of Angkor

by John Burgess

His name was Mr Sao. He made conversation the rest of the way. Partly it seemed intended to calm my sorrows, partly to satisfy curiosity about this new member of the estate. He shared things too. ‘Our master is only two generations removed from the King and he owns a dozen villages...He’s a good master and makes many donations to many places of the spirit. You’ll be surprised when you see how much he gives on holy days. And he never plays favourites with his people, no, not at all....He’s a widower. The estate’s lady, as fine a soul as he, died in childbirth, may she be blessed. She left two sons, both of them strong and determined. A handful, those two. But it’s good when boys are that way. They’ll both accomplish great things...And did I tell you that the master is a scholar? He’s got a room full of holy texts on leaves, old leaves, old enough that I’d think ten generations have read them by now. Some of them are crumbling, and the master is going to have them recopied – a scribe came to the estate to show how he would do it. You should have seen! He gave us all a demonstration. First he took a sharp little thing – a stylus, he called it – and traced out each letter of each word as a groove, then he went back and filled the grooves with ink. Quite a long time it will take when that job gets started...Our master, he’s a devout man, yes, always helping out with religious matters. He’s going to renovate the old shrine by the road too. Right up ahead now, you’ll see it, and just before is the turn into our estate. It’s really not the biggest place, you’ll see, but did I tell you our master’s family has rights to another estate? A large one, several days’ travel from here. But the noble family there now won’t give it up. Who knows, maybe you’ll see the day when we get it. Our master’s not the kind of man to take up arms for it, though. But look – there’s the shrine’s spire, just like I said.’

  I did look, and a smile came to my face. I imagined myself visiting it, alone, to give thanks for my wedding.

  Mr Sao called out greetings to a pair of farmers who were walking the track, kramas wrapped around their brows, and to children wading in a stream. I felt embarrassed because each person looked me over, though in a welcoming way. Soon the estate house came into view across a stretch of paddy land. The tile roof was brilliant red, the wooden walls solid and elaborately carved. To either side was a pond and a dozen or so small houses for retainers. But what really defined the scene were rows of towering sugar palms to either side of the house.

  Mr Sao stopped the cart. ‘There it is,’ he said proudly. ‘The noble people have a fancy royal language name for the estate that means Community of Great Dazzling Prosperity. To the rest of us it’s just Sugar Palm House.’

  When the cart passed inside the gate, the rich man came quickly out to receive us, a small boy and a nursemaid in tow.

  ‘Welcome, welcome, Miss Sray,’ he called, even before I could kneel and put hands together. His voice was kind and reassuring, as it always had been in the hall when we girls performed. ‘You’ll find it a bit quiet here after where you’ve come from, but we do like our little community.’ The cart driver beamed, happy that his words about the master’s kindness were confirmed so quickly in person.

  The boy tugged at his father’s garment. ‘Lift me up, father! Now!’

  The nursemaid let off a twitter of laughter that the young master was so assertive. His father laughed too and lifted him to his shoulders, though he was a bit big for that. There the little boy perched, shoulders quite broad for his age. I smiled up to him. In return, I got an imperious gaze, conveying a determination I had never seen in a boy so young.

  ‘This is my second son, Lon,’ said the rich man, drawing a bit nearer. ‘Lon, say hello to the new girl who has come to live on our estate.’

  I bowed and put hands together, smiling again, but the boy said nothing. Suddenly he reached out and with thumb and forefinger pinched my cheek.

  It hurt! I sprang back.

  ‘Lon! Lon!’ laughed the master, looking up at the boy. ‘That’s not how we greet a newcomer!’ He turned back to me. I was blushing, ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, young lady. He does get carried away sometimes.’

  The boy kept his gaze on me even as he was lowered from his father’s shoulders and hustled off by the maid.

  ‘Come on now,’ said the master. ‘We’ll take you to where you’ll be staying.’

  He led me along a path that wound past a pond to the retainers’ area. We stopped at a house where an old woman sat in the door.

  ‘This is Grandmother Som,’ the master said in his jovial way. ‘You’ll be staying with her, for now. Now Grandmother, you understand, don’t you, that everything that this young lady wants should be provided? Just send word to me and along it will come.’

  Through a toothless smile, the old woman whispered that she would.

  The master left and I was shown inside, where my host sat me down and gave me water in a clay cup. Then she sat down too and regarded me in an amiable way. ‘Poor girl – you’re wondering, if I’m a grandmother, where are the grandchildren? The master just calls me that to be kind, actually. I was married, but no children ever arrived. Now my husband’s passed, and hopes for those children have too. But I’d have been pleased to have a daughter as fine as you, and for a little while, at least, I will.’

  I smiled at the woman, who said nothing more and seemed content just to be near someone young.

  After a bit, I rose and made myself useful. I swept the floor and renewed the charcoal in the fire. Through until late afternoon, people kept finding reasons to stop by the house and chat with the old woman, looking me over as they did, but again the attention was all friendly and I began to grow accustomed to it.

  That evening, there was yet another visitor, a small boy carrying a large basket. He called up from the house’s steps. I turned to go down to see to him, but the old women stopped me. ‘I’ll do it.’

  She hobbled down the steps. ‘Now what’s all this?’ she asked in a voice meant to carry. She was rummaging in the boy’s basket. ‘Two fresh coconuts, an ivory comb, a bronze neckpiece – quite a nice one, too.’ She held it up for me to admire. Then she addressed the boy. ‘Now who’s this from?’

  ‘From Koy the apprentice blacksmith.’

  Grandmother Som beamed at me. ‘Why, it seems this man is courting you! You’re lucky. He’s got to be the very best-looking at Sugar Palm House and all the villages around it. If I weren’t so old, I’d have scooped him up myself long ago!’

  That night, the old woman presented me with a mosquito net. A gift from the master, she explained. I lay down inside the net. It was a strange feeling, like being confined, and I was unsure I could sleep. But I was happy to be alone for a while. Then Grandmother Som blew out the lamp and for few minutes I shed tears, missing the touch of my old mat, the whisperings of other girls nearby, the quacks of the ducks outside.

  The next morning I heard the sound of hammering as I prepared rice. ‘My goodness,’ said Grandmother Som, looking out the window. ‘The estate carpenters are building a new house. Who can it be for?’ Later, we went and looked, and it was a large, solid thing going up, with plank floors and thatch roof.

  That afternoon, Grandmother Som placed the gift jewellery around my neck. Then the two of us processed solemnly to the house of the apprentice blacksmith’s family. It was as if all the fields were deserted right now; every man, woman and child had found duties in the settlement and all paused to watch. The young man Koy stood waiting in front of his house, flanked by his parents. He was exactly as promised, of stout physique and handsome face and thick hair, with a kind and quiet disposition that communicated its presence without words.

  He put hands together, daring to smile at me. I presented him with a lotus blossom.

  From there the old woman took me to see the estate’s garment maker, who took measurements for a wedding sampot and as she worked said under her breath, as if no one could hear, that it had been a long time, quite a long time indeed, since she’d made a nuptial garment for anyone quite so lovely. How people can stretch the truth! I blushed, as I
did a few hours later when the priest who would perform the wedding rites gazed on me with such approval that I looked away.

  I fell asleep that night imagining the touch of my husband-to-be.

  The next morning, I awoke with a start, feeling eyes on me, from very close up, right at the door. The house shuddered as someone jumped down the steps. A male laugh broke through from somewhere below. My face burned with mortification. I wondered, was this some strange custom that people at this estate might practice? I turned to Grandmother Som.

  ‘The master’s eldest son,’ the woman said, in a voice that tried to hide concern. ‘Back from a trip somewhere. His name is Vin. We’ll do our best to keep away from him. It will be all right once you’re married.’

  Later that morning, when I went to the pond to draw water, this Vin was waiting by the path, leaning against the trunk of a palm. He was a larger version of his little brother – same well-formed shoulders and imperious gaze, eyes that held on me without shame. He smirked as I approached. I hurried past, saying nothing. I looked back and shuddered. He had not followed, but he was still at the tree, watching.

  Word of this attention got around. No one could directly protect me, but everyone became even more solicitous. Young men called greetings from the tops of sugar palms which they climbed to hang cups that collected sap drippings. On the ground, their wives and daughters invited me to join in boiling and stirring the sap in an iron vat, and pouring the resulting yellow-orange syrup into moulds to make candy. I was given the first piece to sample – the women burst into delighted laughter when my face lit up at the sweetness. There had been nothing at all like that at the orphanage. Grandmother Som took me walking in the afternoon sun through paddies where farmers tended rice stalks half grown. Mr Sao the driver happened along with his cart, and he insisted that he give the two of us a ride back to the settlement, though it was just a few minutes’ walk. I helped Grandmother Som aboard. But then – Vin was there, watching from a spot at a bamboo fence some distance away. The estate, which had seemed so large when I arrived, was now too small to avoid him.

  On my third day, when I went again to draw water, he sprang out from behind a tree and grabbed for my arm. I was quick enough to get away.

  ‘Doesn’t his father know what he does?’ I asked Grandmother Som later.

  ‘We’ve tried to tell him. You’re not the first to get this treatment, you see. But his sons are his pride, and who can blame him? For a while it was said that Vin would become lord of an estate to the north of here, but that talk has ended and now Vin has no place. He’s angry and often his anger is directed at us. He’ll straighten out, I’m sure, once some other place is found for him. But in the meantime the master doesn’t want to hear. He’s deaf to any talk of fault in his sons, I’m afraid.’

  The wedding was just three days away, and in fact it arrived with no more trouble from Vin. With Grandmother Som presiding, retainer women of the estate gave me a ritual bath beneath her house, dried me and sprinkled my body with a mist of holy water. I put on the wedding sampot and armlets and headdress that the priest provided. My wrists and neck and breasts were dabbed with scent. Then I was walked in procession to the house of Koy’s parents. There my first act was to look to see if Vin was present. He was not.

  On a stand set up at the foot of the house’s steps, I knelt next to Koy. The priest begged our indulgence, then cut locks of hair from our heads. He circled us seven times carrying a burning candle of beeswax. As the final step, he tied our wrists together with string he had blessed. I closed my eyes. What a moment it was! I felt such enormous hope for what our life would be.

  We spent our first night in a nuptial house outside the settlement. By the light of single lamp, I stepped from my garment and I stood before this young man my husband, presenting myself, trembling with an excitement that I did not know I contained. Koy took my hand, then pressed it to his chest and held it gently there. Together we sank to the mat, and there he made of me a woman whom Heaven might allow to have children.

  Just before dawn, with Koy lying asleep next to me, warming my thigh and arm, I awoke to a faint rustling in the forest outside. It was likely some small animal, but I could not shake the sense that it was Vin, watching again. I closed my eyes, and pulled closer to my husband. When he awoke, I said nothing.

  Two days later, we moved back to the compound, to the house the carpenters had built. The master was there with greetings. He announced that credit had been arranged in the market in the nearby market town, so that I could select clothing, jars and other essentials for the new household. It was our first day of normal life together. Koy squeezed my hand and left for the blacksmith forge. I walked to the town, chose our things, and set out toward home, a heavy basket over my arm.

  Half way back, I saw Vin ahead, standing in his loutish way at a bridge that spanned an irrigation ditch.

  There was no way around. I would have to bluster my way through. I quickened my pace, and as I passed, he grabbed me hard by the arm.

  ‘What’s this, don’t want to talk to me?’

  I tried to shake free, but he tightened his grip. It frightened me how strong it was.

  ‘Let go! I’m a married woman.’

  ‘Oh, brave enough to talk now?’

  ‘It doesn’t frighten me to talk.’

  ‘Good. I like it when you do.’

  I tried again to shake free.

  ‘Look,’ he said, holding me fast. ‘Don’t be so prissy. We all know what kind of girls come out of the place where you lived. There’s one in the town you just went to. She’s a maid – they say. But it seems her work takes place entirely at night!’

  What vulgarity! No one had ever spoken to me like that. I stamped a heel on his instep. Where I’d learned to do that, I don’t know. He gasped, astonished, and lost his grip. I ran as fast as I could, all the way back to the estate. At the door of my house I stopped and calmed myself. I cooked the evening rice for my husband. I said nothing about Vin.

  In the next weeks, I took care never to be alone on the road or in any secluded spot around the estate grounds. Eight days went by without Vin showing himself. I began to hope he’d lost interest.

  The news came late one afternoon, as I was at Grandmother Som’s house, getting ready to go to the pond with her to wash clothing. A boy arrived at her house in a run, breathless.

  ‘Mr Koy – he’s hurt, very badly, out on the road! I saw blood.’

  I raced off with the boy, the old woman following as quickly as she could.

  Oh, how hard it is to recount what I saw. If only someone had got there before me and held me back. Koy was lying still, dead already. Blood soaked the dust on the road, there was a horrible gash across his belly. Flies were all around, buzzing. I saw it all. I fainted. They told me later that I fell right onto my husband’s body.

  The next day, a magistrate came and took statements. No one had had much to offer, except for Vin, who presented himself and related that he’d been walking along a road a few days earlier when he saw, hiding in the trees, a strange man with a knife tucked in his sampot. He seemed to be waiting for someone to rob, but Vin hadn’t had any trouble. Probably the man was too smart to attack a fit young nobleman, remarked the magistrate.

  At the cremation rites, people stood close to me to lend support. The master honoured Koy by helping carry the washed corpse on its bier, and then lighting the pyre of aromatic wood with his own hand. He stepped over to give words of sympathy to me, now a young widow. I had no strength to carry the burden of grief. Koy had been a fine man, but Heaven had taken him and I saw no reason why it would send another man who would make me happy in the same way.

  When the rite was over, I closed my eyes and wished with all my might that I had never been brought here.

  I thanked everyone, then went back to my house, insisting on being alone, and there I lay down. But I could not rest. Presently I rose, with an idea, to walk to the shrine by the road, the one I’d seen that first day, while ridi
ng the cart from the home for parentless girls. There I would pray, and seek a signal from Heaven as to whether I should stay in this place.

  I was drawing near the shrine when I became aware of feet treading on leaves behind me. I knew instantly who. I ran, but after just a few steps, as I entered a small clearing, I was tackled full-force from behind. What a shock – I came down on my belly, he on top, pinning my arms, pressing his cheek to mine.

  ‘Not married any more, are you?’

  I twisted my head to the left and bit his lip! I was like an animal. He let out a howl, but kept me beneath him. He freed up a hand and wiped away some blood. ‘Oh, it’s fun when they fight. Come on, try again.’

  I lay still, breathing hard.

  ‘Not willing? Well, how about if I do this?’

  He rolled me over and his free hand went down and tugged at my sampot. I struggled, screaming, and tried to bang my head against his, but it wouldn’t reach.

  ‘Keep it up!’ he laughed. ‘You’re putting up as much of a fight as he did. I’ll have to fight back.’ With that, he struck me hard across the mouth. Then his hand went down again and there was a ripping sound. The sampot tore away. He pressed his weight down on me, forcing my legs apart.

  ‘Are you ready, then?’

  ‘You will not treat her that way.’

  The words came from above. I will always remember how calmly they were voiced. Vin went still, then craned his neck to look. Standing over us was a man, rather young. A stranger. Short and wearing a coarse sampot, his hair cropped close in a labourer’s cut. He held a shovel and the straw bag of a traveller.

  ‘Get away – don’t interfere,’ Vin growled.

  The little man did not move. ‘No, you will get off her.’

  Vin exhaled heavily and rolled himself over, slowly, as if to declare it was by his own choice. He stood full up. From somewhere, he had pulled out a small knife.

  ‘I’m off her now, for the moment,’ he said. He flicked the point of the knife toward the man. ‘Now are you glad I am?’ He flicked the knife again. ‘Maybe not. Maybe, filthy runt, you’re wondering what you’ve gotten yourself into.’