Page 62 of The Boy Bride

He knotted the ties of the trousers and opened the door a crack. Mikhi, lounging on the landing, jumped to attention and peered in at him.

“You, uh, need a shirt.”

“Should I be wearing trousers or a dress?” He kept his voice low but enunciated his words carefully, hoping she’d be able to read his lips without Vanu hearing.

She gave him a blank look. “It’s wedding dancing.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Dancing. That you do the day after a wedding. That men do the day after a wedding. Do you not do that in the lowlands?”

“Uh. I don’t know.”

“You should wear trousers.” She pointed down. “Like me. And a shirt. You should wear a shirt.”

“Thank you.”

He closed the door and pulled on his blue shirt, tucking it into the trousers. He wrapped one of the sashes from his wedding costume around his waist, knotting it on one hip the way Vanu wore his. He found his shoes and put them on.

Vanu was waiting for him downstairs, sitting on the corner of the seating platform and swinging one foot. He’d put on his boots, loose trousers tucked in to create the typical silhouette of Hawa men’s costume. He stood up when he saw Lill and signed something.

“We need to get you some boots,” Mikhi translated. “And put a latch on your door.”

“Oh, that’s all right … sorry for the … ” Lill wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.

Mikhi ran to collect Atari and Susami, and they all left the house together. The rest of the residents of Umtúshta were assembled in front of Faru’s house, in what they referred to as the gathering place of the village. The tables from the wedding feast had been cleared away, leaving the yard bare. The cat that Lill had seen sleeping under the tree before came prowling toward them and rubbed against Vanu’s leg. He stopped and squatted down to pet it.

Padunu came briskly up to them, with Halza trailing him.

“Do I ascertain from your dress, Nana Mikhi, that you propose joining the dancing?” Padunu asked.

“Yup.”

The shaman sighed. “Very well. Having the bride join us is already highly irregular, so I suppose it hardly matters.”

“Lill, how are you?” Halza asked solicitously. “You look … tired?” He winced as if he did not want to hear the reason, which was somehow more embarrassing than if he had loudly asked how the consummation had gone.

“I am fine,” Lill said tightly. “But I am not happy with you. What did you mean by exposing me to that incense?”

Halza looked even more uncomfortable. “We thought it would help you.”

“We?”

“Uh … Tirtu and I. He … it was my idea, because he was telling me, er, stories about your husband.” Halza shuddered. “I was worried about you! Tirtu was the one who knew how to get the incense. He said it would work better. My first idea was just for you to get drunk. We thought it would make things easier for you, with the wedding night—or, I guess it wasn’t at night … ”

“It had worn off by then,” Lill said. “Happily.”

“Oh. Ha-hap-happily. Right. I didn’t know that you⁠—”

“Happily for you. Why would you think I would want my mind clouded under such circumstances? If you had succeeded, you would have earned my enmity.”

Halza looked daunted. “Angels of the Almighty. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Do you—do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” said Lill grudgingly.

Vanu had finished petting the cat and come up behind Lill. He had certainly heard some of that. He put an arm casually around Lill’s shoulders, a comfortable weight, and gave Halza a look that Lill couldn’t quite interpret.

“Now, men, let us get this underway!” Padunu called impatiently. “We must first teach the dances to the lowlanders! Where is Barda? He was here a moment ago.”