When we arrived at Porcoline’s, Avani and I found Arthur, Dylas, and her brother and friends at the center of a good-sized crowd of curious townsfolk. Although Rishi and Sharmila looked as though they were enjoying themselves, Chanda looked every bit as uncomfortable as Dylas at the unsolicited attention.

The crowd parted as we approached, and I saw that the seats that had been intended for us were occupied by Amber, who was eagerly asking Chanda all sorts of questions about the flowers and animals in the southern ranges, to the latter’s obvious discomfiture, and by Kiel, who was happily discussing tribal legends and lore with Rishi.

Of our companions, Arthur was the first to notice our arrival, and he quickly rose to greet us. Kiel immediately jumped up, then when Amber remained oblivious, he nudged her hard to draw her attention to our arrival. After a moment of looking around in confusion, she giggled and hopped up, moving out of our way. Avani and I sat in the recently vacated seats, and the crowd slowly dispersed, giving us more privacy.

“So this is your new home,” Rishi said, smiling. “I can see the attraction. The people here are very welcoming, though I admit I had some initial doubts after our reception.”

“My apologies,” Arthur said, “but to be fair, it isn’t every day that a trio of strangers simply… materializes in the middle of the street.”

Rishi looked surprise. “You mean, you cannot teleport?”

“Only in a very restricted fashion. We have a spell that enables us to return to Selphia, or to the nearest pre-determined, secure location to the town, from wherever we are. But we can’t go just anywhere—only to or towards the town gates, or from the gates to our homes. So you see, it is rather limited in scope. Most transportation here is done either via airship, on a mount, or on foot.”

“I see,” Rishi said, thoughtfully. “That is one of our most fundamental spells, so I just took it for granted that others outside the tribe would have something similar. We have a spell that allows us to teleport to any location that we can visualize. So we can’t go anywhere that we haven’t already been, or that has suffered significant alteration since our last visit—the spell simply fails in that instance. We can take anything or anyone that is in contact with us when we cast it, as well. Since we are a primarily agrarian society, it was developed as a means of traveling to and from our more distant fields.”

“But you’ve never been here before,” Dylas interjected with a frown. “So how could you teleport here when you’d never seen the town?”

Rishi smiled again, saying, “Ahh, but I had seen it before—through Avani’s eyes. I checked in on her from time to time, to make sure she was still alive and well—and because I missed her so much. The street adjacent to your airship dock was one of the sights I’d seen most often. I didn’t want to appear suddenly in her quarters, as I feared that would be a shock to her, so the street seemed like a wiser choice.”

“Interesting,” Arthur mused. “A spell like that could be quite useful. Or, it could be terribly abused. I suspect that is the case with much of your magic. One of these days, I should very much like to sit with you and Sharmila, both of you, and learn more of your tribe’s ways. You say you live in the foothills and mountains to the south? I wonder whether your village lies entirely within the borders of Norad, or if you cross the border into the Kingdom of Roland?”

“I believe I can help you with that,” Sharmila spoke up. “Our shrine is the repository of our history and knowledge, barring specifically vocational information, such as pertains to the Avanani, for example. However, I will need to absent myself for a few hours sometime today—I need to return to the temple to check on Pavitra, whom I left in her mother’s care.”

“Pavitra?” Avani asked, curiously.

“The new Maiden. Do you remember quiet little Tuhina? She married shortly before you left. Pavitra is her second child. She just finished weaning near the end of winter and was handed over to my care. But it was agreed that I needed to accompany Rishi, so her mother is caring for her again in my absence. I promised that I would check in on her every day or so, though.”

“Tuhina has children already?” Avani asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, a son, Nada, and Pavitra, and she just learned that another is on the way—which is why I promised to check in on her often. She suffers greatly from the early sickness, more than most women. I believe that she will choose not to have more children after this one, if I’m not greatly mistaken.”

“It sounds like there’s a lot to catch up on. The changes with the seers and Tuhina’s children… I’m sure there must be other births and deaths and marriages, too.” Avani said, a little wistfully. Then, with a faint glimmer of hope, she said, “I don’t suppose….”

Anticipating her question, Sharmila sadly shook her head. “No. He still lives, as far as I know.”

“As far as you know?” Avani replied, bewildered.

Sharmila looked over at her husband, then Chanda, hesitating. Rishi looked towards Avani, and replied, slowly, “He seems to have… well, disappeared. No one had seen him for at least two days before we departed.”

**************

After our meal, we returned to the castle to continue our discussion. Resuming the same seats as before, Sharmila glanced at Avani and asked, “Shall I take over for you?”

But Avani shook her head, replying, “No. Thank you, Sharmila, but I think I should tell it myself. After all, it’s my story, for the most part.”

Settling herself as comfortably as she could, she looked up at me apprehensively before she picked up the thread of her story. I stroked her hair to soothe her, though as I recalled where she had left off, I found it difficult to smile or to reassure her. After all, she knew what lay ahead, whereas I did not.

She closed her eyes and thought for a moment before she began to speak. “As I was saying earlier… he threatened to kill Sundara if I failed to preserve my virginity until our marriage. Naturally, I was horrified by his threat, yet I had no doubt that he was prepared to follow through with it. After all, he was twenty-eight and powerfully built, one of the few Ventuani trained in the martial arts, while Sundara was eighteen and trained only in music, not fighting.

“I never told Sundara—or anyone, until now—of that threat. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him, and I felt certain my father would side with… would side against us, so I didn’t see any point in telling him. I… I did tell Sundara that I had to obey my father’s and fiancé’s wishes, and while I think he was disappointed, he didn’t pressure me, either. So we continued in a strange limbo for the next two years—more than friends, but less than lovers.

“Then… then the day of our eighteenth birthday arrived. On that day, I was officially given the title of the Dragon Knight and Rishi of Dragon Priest, and our formal education was complete. My wedding was to take place three days later.”

She was clearly distraught by this point, though, and choked up, unable to speak. I looked over at Arthur, who then whispered to Dylas. Dylas nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, and several minutes later returned with a tray holding several cups and a pot of the soothing herbal tea known simply as ‘relax tea’ that was so popular with the townsfolk. Arthur poured cups for everyone, and since Avani’s hands were trembling, I carefully held the cup for her as she took a tiny sip. After drinking a little of the hot drink, she relaxed enough to take the cup from me, murmuring her thanks to us.

We waited while she sipped her tea and composed herself. She finished her cup, then she looked at me. “Leo, would you… would you mind making a fire? I know it’s a nice day, but… I feel terribly cold. And this next part that’s coming up… it’s not going to be easy for me to talk about. So if you’ll all excuse me for a minute, I want Baldur. I find him… well, comforting to hold on to.” Then she rose and left through her back door.

“Baldur?” Chanda asked with a scowl. “Who’s he?”

I gave her a half smile as I knelt before the fireplace, placing kindling. “That’s her tame silver wolf. He’s her especial pet, and he’s helped her through some rough times. He’s like a big living stuffed animal for her, I suppose.”

Rishi smiled, a genuine smile as if born of some pleasant thought. “She’s always had a way with animals. I remember when she captured a wild mountain wolf puppy and trained it to help me get around more easily, without having to depend on others. She named him Star, because she found him under a wild starfruit tree in the forest, apparently abandoned and with an injured leg. Our father was livid, but she did an incredible job—he was perfectly trained, even though she was just a small child at the time. She hadn’t even begun her formal training yet—it was pure, raw, innate talent.”

Avani returned just then, and the other two women gasped at the sight of the massive wolf with his gleaming, metallic silver coat and vivid cobalt blue eyes as he paced silently at her heel. He stopped at the door, pausing to sniff the air, then he swung his huge head around to gaze at the three visitors. After giving him a moment to examine the new scents, Avani brought him over to meet her guests. She solemnly introduced each of them to her pet, assuring him each time that the newcomers were friends. He seemed to remain slightly guarded with both women, but, perhaps recognizing the scent of familiar blood, he immediately took to Rishi as if he’d known him all his life, wagging his tail joyfully and licking his hands and face as he whimpered and whined.

Startled by his enthusiastic reception of her twin, Avani called him off and led him to the thick rug before the hearth. She instructed Baldur to sit, then she awkwardly lowered herself to the floor next to him, putting her arms around his neck as she leaned against him and closed her eyes. I hesitated for a moment, then sat next to her on the floor. Dylas sat in the empty chair nearby, and again we waited. She sighed, eyes still closed, and picked up where she had left off.

 “Weddings in our tribe were terribly important ceremonial occasions, and as such, required a lot of preparation. At a minimum, a wedding took an entire day; mine lasted two. The first day was the ceremony itself, followed by the wedding feast, then the… the wedding night. The second day was devoted to celebrating the marriage, particularly the consummation. We took no wedding journey or honeymoon—it was back to business as usual once the feasting was finished. But newlywed couples were generally excused from the civic duties we all shared, such as tending communal fields and fruit trees, either for the first year or until the bride became pregnant—whichever came first.

“I don’t know what preparations the men had to make before marriage, but I found the bride’s preparations to be incredibly tedious. Perhaps if I’d been marrying someone else…. My mother and kinswomen began to prepare me on my birthday. Chanda wasn’t permitted to help, even though she was my dear friend, just because of that stupid superstition. I had to beg and plead just to get permission for her to be at the wedding at all. Anyway, that first day, I was painted all over with various symbols and designs using a thick paste made from some root that stained my skin dark brown. I couldn’t do anything after that—I was forbidden to touch anything or even to bathe until the paste had had time to soak into my skin and dry completely. So the next day, I essentially did nothing, just sat around feeling like an idiot while the final touches were placed on my outfit and the foods for the feast were prepared. There was even more fuss than usual, because I was the Princess and because his family was also very high-ranking in the tribal hierarchy.

“On the third day, I was bathed. And do I ever mean bathed. The same women that had painted me took me to a pool of clear water hidden away deep in the forest, fed by a small waterfall at one end, where they stripped me down and bathed and scrubbed me until I was spotless—all except for the painted symbols, that is, which didn’t wash away for weeks afterwards. They scrubbed me and my hair, then made me stand under the waterfall to wash away all the soap, then they repeated the process for a total of three scrubbings and dousings. After that, they dried me and rubbed oils scented of flowers into my skin and hair. Then they braided my hair into an elaborate design, weaving in strings of pearls. All this took the entire day, and when they were finished, I was put to bed and told to rest well, with a good bit of giggling and innuendo about the following night.” She shuddered at the memory and paused to bury her face in Baldur’s shaggy coat, breathing deeply, then resumed her tale.

“I thought about running away. I’d rejected the idea before, because I knew that would dishonor my family—and while I didn’t care about what effect it had on my father, I didn’t want my mother or Rishi to suffer for my actions. And also, I knew… I knew that he would just hunt me down if I ran away from him. By that night, though, I was desperate. But I discovered that my father had anticipated trouble and set a guard outside the door and windows of my room, just to be safe. So I was trapped.

“Morning finally dawned, and my mother fetched me from my prison. It was traditional for a bride to break her fast with only her family, as it was the last time she would still be considered a daughter of that house—after marriage, she would be the matron of another’s house. I have no idea what was served to me—I don’t even recall if I ate, though I’m sure if I didn’t, my mother would have compelled me to eat or drink something. And then the other women arrived, and I was taken away to be dressed.

“Wedding finery was typically given to a bride as a gift from her new family. My fiancé’s family was both wealthy—by our standards, at least—and very conscious of status. So my dress was ridiculous in its extravagance. My fiancé’s mother had made it herself, and she was known for her sewing skills, particularly her embroidery, which was considered exquisite. She had spared no pains on my dress, which was solidly embroidered with symbols of fertility, good fortune, long life, and so on, as well as family emblems and fanciful designs.

“The actual ceremony at which I was bound to my new husband was surprisingly short, and took place only before our parents, the two elder seers, and two unrelated witnesses for each family. The binding ceremony does not ask for, nor require, consent—or I would have objected right then and there. Instead, it’s the parents of the bride and groom who do all the talking. The nearest thing to consent is that the groom must place a ring on the bride’s finger—but her hand can be held by her father against her will, I discovered.

“Afterwards, the remainder of the afternoon and evening were spent feasting and dancing and so on, really not much more than a big party. Probably the worst thing about the feast was that Sundara… Sundara was instructed to play the music. You can imagine how that felt to us… it was horrible. I couldn’t even look at him, the pain was so keen.

“Then when our families decided that it was high time for us to head off and… and get down to business, the women dragged me away, this time to my new home, where I would be alone with my new husband for the first time. His father had died several years before, and his mother had chosen to go live with her recently-widowed and childless sister upon our marriage. She had moved the last of her possessions the day before the wedding.

“I was stripped down and shoved into the bed, which had been decorated with still more symbols—some of them grotesquely obscene. Then, giggling, they left me alone, keeping guard until… until he arrived.”

She blanched then, looking ill as she paused. “Then he… then he….” She stopped, breathing hard as her pupils dilated, and clung tightly to Baldur as she buried her face in his fur.

“What is it? What happened, My Lady?” I asked, though I felt a keen sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Rishi choked back a sob, startling everyone, and we turned to look at him. He had tears spilling from his eyes, and he stammered, “He… he…” but was also unable to continue.

Sharmila looked between sister and brother, her brow creased with distress, then she looked me in the eyes, her own filled with pain. Her voice breaking with sorrow, she said, “He came to her on their wedding night, and… and he raped her, Leon. She was a virgin bride, as he had required, and he took her—repeatedly, violently, and without mercy.”