Exile of the Seas

by Jeffe Kennedy

  That meant, however, that I could only teach these bright children my Dasnarian dances and not real forms of Danu. Any true priestess of Danu would know at a glance that these kids had learned from a fraud.

  And any Dasnarian would recognize the dances, except the ducerse, with the exception of a very few, highly privileged people. Others might recognize the style as Dasnarian, but not the actual dance. It gave me a thrill to think of someone like Rodolf seeing Ayela perform the dagger ducerse, as I’d come to think of it. He’d be stunned, perplexed, angry to the point of apoplexy.

  He’d guess where she’d learned it. Terrifying thought. I took that emotion and fed it into the increasing whirl of the dance, letting the foreboding fly away. I danced in the sun, free of all of that.

  Rodolf would never see because he would never come to this faraway land. Dasnaria would find nothing of value to the empire in this vast place of grass and song.

  I finished in the final triumphant offering of the daggers on my upraised palms, though instead of staying supplicant on my knees, I lifted onto one leg, rising onto the toes of one foot. With the other knee bent, poised to kick, I settled one dagger point-up before my heart, the other stretched arm’s length above my head to point at the sky. Danu’s salute. One of the few parts of Her true practice I knew.

  I held it, muscles singing. In this, at least, Kaja had never found fault. I could hold Danu’s salute even longer than she or Kaedrin could.

  Gradually relaxing the pose, I rolled down from my toes, bit by bit reconnecting the arch of my foot to the ground. I’d been aware of more than the children watching, but it surprised me to see so many people ringing round the terrace and hanging off the poles in the rooms above. As soon as I dropped my blades, they sent up a ululating song of approval. It sent chills up my spine for no good reason.

  Then the adults melted away again, the normal sounds and songs of the household work resuming. The kids still sat, but nearly vibrated with the desire to get up and try. They practically flew to their feet when I gestured for them to rise. I turned my back and demonstrated the opening steps.

  * * * *

  Hours later, with Danu’s sun reaching high noon, I released the children, watching them run off, bursting into chatter as they did. Funny how my silence had infected them, so they hadn’t spoken either. Of course, I hadn’t been able to answer questions, so they hadn’t bothered asking. Maybe they thought learning in silence was part of it.

  Teaching without being able to verbally explain proved both challenging and simpler. I couldn’t give reasons or attempt to describe what they should do and feel, so that saved me making the attempt. In some ways, that was just as well, as with things of the body like dancing, words only approximate the feeling. I could show the steps, but I didn’t know how to replicate what I’d had: endless days with nothing to do but practice, within a community of women in the same situation.

  I’d also had a burning hunger to please that seemed foreign to me now. How blissfully I’d believed that a perfectly executed ducerse would bring me similar perfection in my marriage.

  How horribly misguided of me.

  Dark thoughts that did me no good. And so soon upon the heels of my waking euphoria. Perhaps I wasn’t suited to happiness, to the musical rhythms of the D’tiembo household. Perhaps Rodolf had broken me beyond repair.

  No sense dwelling on that, regardless. I pulled on my boots, resolved to explore a bit. Maybe to find Ochieng and the elephants.

  Hungry, I selected some bread, meat and fruit from the food arrayed on the low wall. An older woman, her face a fine map of wrinkles, nodded and smiled at me, not pausing in her keening song. She sat on one of the rare stools, employing a woven fan to keep the flying insects off the food. Seeing I meant to take my findings with me, she set her fan down and snagged a large square of cloth. Speaking to me, she had me set my food on it, expertly knotted the ends to make a pouch, then handed it to me with a bow and flourish.

  Absurdly touched, I touched my fingers to my lips, then to her forehead, rewarded by the bloom of delight on her face. If she believed I could convey a blessing, wasn’t that nearly the same as receiving one? In my dark doubts, I now wasn’t at all sure if Danu’s hand truly rested on me, or if I just believed and hoped for it so fervently that I made it seem so to myself.

  In the end, what I believed dictated how I behaved, so it might all come out the same. I could only hope. At least I’d gotten more practiced at that.

  ~ 19 ~

  I found Ochieng not at the river, but in a clearing near the lagoon.

  And atop one of the elephants.

  I stood in astonishment. Such a possibility had never occurred to me—though Ochieng had used the word “ride,” hadn’t he? The elephants seemed so regal, so massive and untouchable, not creatures to be ridden. Like sailing ships in their impassive calm.

  But Ochieng perched on the elephant’s shoulders, his cotton pants a white contrast to her dark gray hide, his deep brown feet bare, toes nudging the folds behind her front legs. He was singing a variation of the driving song, even as he coaxed and petted the elephant he rode. Several other men and women stood a short distance away, watching and conferring with each other. Ochieng’s elephant wasn’t happy, dancing in little agitated steps, going in uneven, sketchy circles. Violet, easily distinguishable by her size, hovered nearby, seeming as if she was trying to help.

  More elephants scattered about, some in the lagoon lounging, others with riders on them. One group seemed to be playing a game, going back and forth across a track, handing things off from trunk to trunk.

  As I watched, Ochieng’s elephant balked, swinging her trunk wildly over her shoulder at him. He ducked, grinning broadly and laughing but not pausing in his song. The elephant blew out a frustrated trumpeting blast, then folded her knees and began to roll. A cry of warning crawled up my throat, but Ochieng leaped away, lithe and alert. The elephant completed her roll, then raised her head, searching for the one who’d annoyed her so. She jumped to her feet, faster and more agile than I would have imagined, and charged him.

  The other people scattered, but Ochieng stood his ground until the last moment, when he darted to the side—then used the momentum to nimbly climb up her side and seat himself again. The elephant hauled up, confused at the loss of her target, then more so when she discovered Ochieng on her back, down on his belly now and embracing her great head. Her whole suit of loose skin shivered, the ripples going through her as a groan creaked out of her.

  She stomped a foot, then stilled, Ochieng seeming to whisper in her flapping ear. Her questing trunk sagged and she lowered her head. With a last pat, he said something more, then vaulted away, gesturing to the lagoon. Violet hurried over and the younger elephant leaned against her. Together they shuffled over to the muddy shallows.

  “Ivariel!” Ochieng called out, his ever-present smile changing into one that seemed to be special for me. He waved to the others, who moved to several other elephants waiting nearby, vaulting onto their backs, and strode toward me. “How was your first night? You look well rested.”

  He waited for my acknowledgement. “Good. Be sure to let me know if you lack anything at all. All the talk is of your display this morning. No one here has seen anything like it. And the children are trying to weasel out of their chores already, claiming that they must practice for tomorrow’s lesson.”

  I laughed at that and he shook his head ruefully. “I can only imagine how different it might be if you could dictate assignments to them. As it is, they’re inventing what you expect.”

  I sobered, concerned. It hadn’t occurred to me that my lack of clear direction would cause them to make up rules I didn’t intend.

  “Don’t worry,” Ochieng reassured me. “It’s good for them. Remember that we are a family accustomed to working with those who do not speak.” He gestured to the elephants. “We all must learn to discern unspoken c
ommunication, and to adjust our expectations and behavior accordingly. Words can lead to confusion as easily as to understanding. As I’m sure you know, having taken this vow, and as my mother is forever losing patience with my long stories.”

  I liked Ochieng’s stories, so I couldn’t agree there. But very interesting about the ramifications of working with the elephants. That explained Ochieng’s expertise at reading my meaning from my expressions and gestures, along with his comfort in our one-sided conversations. I pointed at the elephant he’d been riding, now covering herself with mud, as if she might hide herself from the world.

  “Ah, yes,” he said, following my gaze. “This is Efe. She is something of a problem child. The others have been trying to work with her, but as you saw, she is skittish and easily frightened. Now that I’ve returned, I’ll see if I can get anywhere with her.” He frowned slightly, studying the elephant. “She was not born with us but was found wandering alone as a calf by people who do not understand elephants. Very likely her mother was killed, and probably her entire tribe, as her aunts and cousins would never have abandoned her. She was terribly skinny from starving, so she will never be as big as the others. Worse, those who captured her went about training her all wrong. They restrained her with manacles around her ankles, leaving those white scars. And see how she covers herself with mud?”

  He glanced at me, so I nodded. Though Efe’s story was nothing like mine, something about it struck a chord of kinship, and I couldn’t help but think of my wedding bracelets, the manacles that had scarred me, too. I supposed in all the relevant aspects, I was also an orphan. Exiles and orphans might be kin under the skin, no matter how different my body might be from hers.

  “The elephants all love to do that, as the mud is cooling and protects them from the sun. Much like your hat.” He reached up and tweaked the brim, a smile on his face but something else in his dark eyes. “With Efe, she cannot seem to stop. She’ll keep layering and layering on the mud. Sometimes we have to at least rinse her eyes of the caked-on stuff, so she can see.”

  He sighed and shook his head a little. “I worry about her, but we all do what we can, yes?” He searched my face, long after I nodded in agreement. I cocked my head in question, wondering the reason for the scrutiny. “I wish I could ask you questions, sometimes,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But we all do what we can,” he reiterated, as if reminding us both. “Ready to ride Violet?”

  I grabbed his arm even as he called out to Violet. Once I had his attention, I shook my head vigorously, but he only patted my hand. “You’ll be fine. Violet will take care of you.” The big female was ambling over, trunk and ears lifted in sprightly interest. “It’s better to get your first ride out of the way, so you don’t build up nerves over it. We put the little ones on the elephants from the time they can sit up. You have catching up to do! And don’t give me those big blue eyes. I know you’re not afraid of Violet. Not truly. You’ve seen far worse monsters than this old gal.”

  Violet had reached us, stretching out her trunk to knock off my hat, then curling her trunk around my head in a gentle greeting that fortuitously smothered my reaction to Ochieng’s words. I didn’t see how he could possibly have seen that deeply into me, no matter how well he understood the nonverbal conversations of elephants.

  The reprieve while I returned Violet’s hug let me catch my breath and settle my stomach. Monsters. What a word. I’d heard the Common Tongue expression used in Ochieng’s tales of the stars, and to describe the huge sea-dragons people once believed to live under the water. I’d never thought of it in terms of a human being, but Rodolf had been that. A monster who’d tried to devour me. Who nearly had.

  Violet held on a bit longer, as if she knew I needed it. Hard to believe I’d known her such a short time. When she let me go, I was able to smile at Ochieng, adding a rueful twist to it, then pointing at Violet’s back and shaking my head emphatically.

  He’d have none of my refusal, however, grinning easily and telling me to take off my boots. “You could scrape her hide,” he explained, deliberately misinterpreting my glower. “Later, when you’re more practiced, you can keep your boots on, but for now you don’t want to accidentally hurt her.”

  I folded my arms, lifted my chin, and gave him my best imperial princess stare, calmly shaking my head. In the back of my mind, Kaja cried No princess! But I didn’t care. I needed to make it clear I had no intention of climbing atop Violet’s back. Now or ever.

  He laughed in my face. “You and Violet are two of a kind, thinking you can out-stubborn me. No such luck, Priestess Ivariel. Here you are in my temple and you will learn I know about such things. Take off your boots.”

  When I glared in defiance, he stepped closer, setting a hand on my waist, a surprisingly intimate gesture, especially from him, who’d always observed such a formal distance between us. I might’ve stepped out of his reach, but Violet knuckled her trunk into the small of my back, holding me there even as the dexterous tip snuffled around my boots, as if she, too, sought a way to get me out of them.

  “Trust me, Ivariel,” Ochieng urged in a low voice. “I’ve seen your face. You want this. Don’t let some silly fear keep you from reaching out to take it. Remember: eyes on where you want to be, not the monsters below.”

  If I could have spoken, I’d have pointed out that he’d mixed up his metaphors. And that would have been a fine distraction from the import of his words. Fine then. With a huff, I twisted away from the both of them and sat on the ground to wrestle off my boots. Violet was not helpful, with her apparently delighted investigation of both boots and my bared feet. She snatched up one boot, lipping it, and I had to leap to my feet to get it back from her. Ochieng stood by laughing.

  He recovered himself and took my boots, setting them in a basket with a tied-down lid—also full of boots, slippers and assorted personal items—crafted to keep the mischievous elephants from thieving the things. Then Ochieng gestured to Violet. With a wag of her head, she knelt down, folding her smaller hind legs and stretching out on her belly, almost like the cats of the seraglio had. Violet leaned onto one shoulder, leaving the near foreleg bent higher, like a stair step. Wrapping the tip of her trunk around my ankle, she dragged me closer. Her golden brown eye watched me with a sparkle of what had to be humor, the long lashes batting like the most flirtatious of concubines.

  “That’s the hand sign for kneeling so we can mount,” Ochieng explained. He followed my glance to Efe. “She’s not yet learned it, so I have to climb her like a tree. See how she watches us, though? This is very good for her to observe. She’ll see how you do this despite your fear, so be a good example.”

  I slid him a narrow frown. Enough with pricking at me for being afraid. I didn’t believe Efe could understand that about me. Certainly not from that distance. Ochieng only smiled back pleasantly, gesturing at Violet’s upraised knee, apparently in case I had somehow failed to notice the enormous elephant lying beside me. And still, not incidentally, higher lying down than I stood tall.

  Under Ochieng’s easy expression lay a steely determination, however. I’d seen that side of him from time to time, mostly in trade negotiations or occasionally in dealing with disputes with other caravans on the journey from Bandari. I didn’t quite understand what made him so determined to get me up on Violet, but he clearly had fixed on it and wouldn’t back down.

  “Foot here.” He patted Violet’s knee. “You can reach up to her shoulders thus to steady yourself. You have the height and easily the strength to climb up from there. Just push off and swing your leg over, much like mounting a horse.”

  A giant horse. Who might roll over and crush me. Violet blinked, batting her flagrant eyelashes, chewing her lips, and dusting me with the tip of her trunk, seeming to promise no such bad behavior. I put my foot on her upraised knee, the skin a curiously soft and cushioned slide under my toes, a wiry hair prick here and there. Before I could lose my nerve, I reached u
p, pushed off, swung a leg out, scrambled, lost my balance.

  And fell.

  A full, ignominious tumble that had me lying on my back, stunned in the rosy dust. Ochieng bent over me, holding his gut and laughing so hard the sounds came out sounding more like elephant squeaks than human. I scrambled up, glaring at him ferociously. If I could have, I’d’ve delivered several choice Dasnarian epithets to describe exactly what I thought of him making fun of me.

  An excellent justification right there for Kaja’s decision to silence me altogether. Ochieng tried to straighten up, took one look at my face and collapsed into laughter again. For lack of any other recourse, I laid hold of his shoulders and pushed. With my weight low in my strong legs and catching him unaware, I easily knocked him onto his butt in the dust.

  Violet waved her trunk in the air, terribly amused by the game, while Ochieng sat there gasping with laughter. I fixed my fists on hips and waited with as much dignity as I could muster for him to get ahold of himself. Finally he held up a hand, as if asking for us to wait—as if we weren’t already—and took several deep breaths. He levered himself to his feet, patting his flat abdomen ruefully. He’d assembled his expression into something reasonably serious, but his lips twitched suspiciously when he met my gaze, and he had to look away, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

  “Ready to try again?” he asked in a fairly somber tone, though his voice cracked at the end.

  I raised an eyebrow at him, loading it with imperious scorn.

  “It’s just that—” He broke off as a snort of laughter escaped, and he held up his hands quickly to ward me off. “You would have laughed, too! The terrifyingly intimidating Warrior Priestess Ivariel, ever cool and silent, scourge of the oasis ruffians, tumbling ass over toes to…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Ah, did you hurt yourself?”

  I folded my arms and gave him a look.

  “Yes, I suppose it is late to ask. I apologize, Ivariel, and truly hope you didn’t injure yourself.”