Dragonfly Song (27 page)

Mama shows Aissa their land,

their sheep

and what they've made.

Her life is here

and she doesn't want to remember

her life on the island

before the raiders came.

They have a dog already

and she doesn't want a goat

to run with the sheep.

And although she strokes

Aissa's hair,

feeds her the best,

and calls her ‘Child,'

a sadness lingers

in her eyes.

Aissa feels the emptiness –

it seems that now

she's found her voice

she can't understand

Mama's words;

she cannot believe

Mama is saying

that her heart will always

have room for Aissa –

but her home

does not.

The world rocks

as if the earthshaker god

has ripped out

the one solid

truth of her life.

‘But I've found you!' she wails.

‘Stayed silent through the years

just as you told me –

how can you

turn me away now?'

Mama weeps too,

says that the childhood time

of their lives together

is a story of long ago,

wished for and cherished –

but like an outgrown tunic,

it won't fit again.

In this land

the farm belongs to her man,

and though not a slave

Mama is not truly free.

She wants Aissa

to be happy

but her husband's happiness

matters more –

and he can't see

a place for Aissa here.

And Aissa's heart breaks to know

that a bull dancer

can ask for anything

except what she

most wants.

A long hug at sunset –

Aissa still weeping

bittersweet tears

as she leaves Mama's home

for the palace.

But people are waiting

outside, on the road;

the story's been whispered

that a bull dancer's there.

Thronging around her,

they wave and shout,

touch her shoulders,

and give her babies to kiss.

Their fickle love

is for the bull dancer

not the girl who used to be No-Name

and now doesn't know

who she is –

but it fills some

of the emptiness inside her.

She wonders if

like Sunya and Kenzo

she should choose to stay

and dare the bulls

for gold.

Though it's not the life she wants,

flying over a bull

is the greatest thrill

she's ever lived –

she doesn't know

what she'll decide

when the Bull King asks.

Aissa tells it

as best she can:

the imperfect first-born

saved from death

to be given away,

rescued from raiders

by a goat,

only to be

abandoned again.

The spitting and the hate

of being No-Name,

the privy-cleaner;

the outcast living

under the Sanctuary rock;

and then

the goatherds

who'd given her help,

and the wise-women

who treated her as their own

till the earthshaker god killed Nasta

and Aissa

came in her place –

to leap bulls

and find Mama.

The Mother listens,

and hears the bitterness

of what Aissa

doesn't say.

‘Finding your foster mama

gave you back your voice

but her home

is no place for you.

If you were any other

I would command,

but you are the Bull Dancer

and the choice is yours:

not only to stay with the bulls

for gold and glory,

or return to the island

where you were despised –

but to serve the goddess here

as the priestess

you were born to be.'

Aissa breathes in

the scent of lilies

in this pretty, painted room;

sees the fields and mountain

from the window

and knows she might

be happy here.

But telling her story

has told her too

how much she longs

for Kelya and Roula,

Lanni the goatherd

and her own wild land.

‘I'm going home –

and hope the wise-women

will let me serve them

as before.'

The ship leaping

under its red sail

is not at all like

a butterfly on the waves –

more like a dolphin,

like the ones playing

all around them.

The sailors say

dolphins are good luck,

they've never seen so many,

they say it's Aissa's singing –

even though

she sings so quietly,

still practising

what her voice can do.

Luki and Aissa see their island

rising from the sea,

bringing tears to Luki's eyes

and Aissa's too

though she didn't know

she loved it:

from cliffs and cove

to snow-capped mountain,

and green hills between.

As if she can sing it

closer, faster

her voice flies free

and from the sky

three eagles come

to circle the ship,

swooping and diving

above the dolphins.

Luki wears his bull-dancing shorts,

for climbing

up and down from the ship;

Aissa too, on the days of voyage,

but now the island

is in sight

she puts on her skirt

flounced in bright colours,

her jacket of embroidered linen,

sandals of the softest leather –

and they both wear

their gifts of gold and jewels

bright on their chests,

their wrists and hair.

As a parting gift,

Aissa's priestess friends

gave her pots

of kohl and rouge;

and the Mother gave her

a small bronze mirror

and a comb of bone.

So now she paints her eyes and mouth –

offering the paints to Luki

though he says no –

and replaits her hair,

blowing in the salt wind

as the young eagle dives low

and a feather drifts down

to hold firm in the plait.

Luki, impatient

to touch the island,

leaps from the deck

as the sailors splash in

to drag the ship to the shore.

He clutches a handful of sand,

bringing it to

his heart in praise.

The waiting people

already starting to wail their loss,

explode into joy

as they see that it's Luki,

a year older,

taller

and dressed like a stranger –

but safely home.

They can barely believe

that the island is free;

that this year's dancers,

running home from the Hall

for their last precious day,

won't be leaving

to dance and die.

No one even thinks of Aissa,

No-Name,

the bad-luck child,

taking the place of chosen Nasta –

no hope of surviving

and nothing to mourn.

Though they are curious

to see the young woman

leap from the ship

to the sand

in her fine coloured skirt,

and a whisper races

from fishers to Hall

that the Lady of the bulls

has come with the ship

to honour victorious Luki.

Part of Aissa longs

to be adored like Luki

with people flocking to touch him,

weeping with joy –

but at least

no one spits.

She remembers when

that was her greatest wish:

now that it's happened,

it's not enough.

‘And Aissa,' Luki shouts,

but the people have never

heard Aissa's name

and don't understand.

The crowd drifts them up

towards the Hall,

dancing, singing,

all around Luki,

keeping their distance

from the captain and crew

and the elegant priestess.

The Lady and the chief

stand in the courtyard to greet them

kissing Luki

on the top of his head

before saluting

the captain and Aissa;

the captain wonders

why she's not welcomed like the boy,

but gives his greetings

from the Bull King,

saying the gods have honoured him

with the return of their dancers

and that from now on

the island will be free of raiders

and of tribute.

The Lady is confused:

the tall guard translates

‘dancers'

as if there were two.

But she's more surprised

that the Lady of the bulls

leaves the captain to speak.

Calling servants

for food and drink

the Lady leads them to the Hall,

the people still crowding,

cheering and laughing,

only the potter wailing –

the island's freedom

comes too late for her daughter.

The guards hustle her away

but Aissa crosses,

touches her shoulder:

‘Your daughter serves

the bull land's Lady,

alive and well.'

The potter drops to her knees

kissing the hem

of Aissa's skirt,

never knowing

it's the child she cursed.

And now

the cats come:

Milli-Cat and her grown-up kittens,

with tails like flags

weaving their way

through to Aissa –

the only ones to see

or welcome her home.

Gold-Cat leaps to her shoulder

and purrs into her ear

while the rest twine around her legs,

and the surprised Lady says,

‘Our beasts welcome you, too,'

showing her to a seat

between her own

and Fila's.

Fila pale and ill,

a bruise swelling

across her cheek –

angry red marks

from the bite of a snake.

Then Aissa's belly clenches,

because Half-Two

stands before her

offering a platter

of sweet cakes and fig,

eyes downcast,

not looking like

Half-Two at all.

Aissa takes a fig

just so she'll leave

but the girl stands

as if she's forgotten

what she's doing

till Squint-Eye shouts,

‘Half-Dead! Get out

of the Lady's way.'

Fila seeing

Aissa watching

says, ‘She's called Half-Dead

because she and her sister

were one and the same

but her sister died

so now this one's half dead.'

Anger like lightning

flashes through Aissa –

though she never knew

her heart had room for the twins.

If I were the Lady

no one would ever

be called No-Name

or Half-Dead.

Even a slave deserves a name!

But it will never matter

what she thinks.

Luki is talking to the guards and the chief;

he points at Aissa,

but the Lady doesn't notice.

‘I have never,' she says,

‘met a priestess from another land.

I would be honoured

if you would speak in private

with me and my wise-women

and my daughter,

since it seems

you can speak our tongue.'

Aissa, wondering

how to tell the Lady

that she's not a foreign priestess

but the Lady's own

discarded daughter,

follows to the private chambers

that she's never seen,

beyond the private bathroom

where she shouldn't have been.

The chamber

is just a room

not as grand or bright

as the one she'd shared

with her priestess friends –

though the best in this Hall –

and it makes her think

that maybe the Lady

is just a woman

doing the best she can.

The wise-women enter,

Kelya leaning on Roula,

Lyra and Lena behind –

and at their gasps,

Kelya reaches to touch her face.

‘Child!' she cries,

delighted tears

leaking from blind eyes

and Aissa wants

to kiss her hands

but is not sure

what she can do or say

with the Lady here.

And the Lady, her mother,

still doesn't understand.

‘The oracle is clear,'

she says,

‘the dolphins' joy for the dancer's return;

the young eagle marking

this Lady for us –

can it be

that the greatness foretold

is not one of our own

but this priestess

of the bulls?'

‘Not one of our own?' says Kelya.

‘But Lady,

can you not see?'