The Choice

Geran went toward the limits of the crowded encampment, deep in his thoughts. He knew which comments Wolf would make on his situation, and he was right, of course. However, Geran had made a decision. Custom or not, but he had to tell Ainoukh what he felt for her. This couldn't hurt her - in the worst case, she would laugh at him, together with the other Morindim girls. Geran didn't care much for the others, anyway. Naturally, he hoped she would not laugh. But why didn't she show him her sympathy more clearly, as it was the strange custom in this strange country? Geran turned around the next tent - and almost run into Ainoukh. Of course, he knew better than to believe in a coincidence. Geran had read and heard enough about this Voice, which Belgarath had heard in his head, and later his father. Now, the Voice seemed to speak only to Eriond. One thing hadn't changed, though - he still thought he was funny. Geran knew as a matter of fact that not even Eriond always shared this conviction. Obviously, some of his hoaxes were rather challenging even for the super-human patience of a God. Geran didn't have time to think about it. Ainoukh wasn't as serious and thoughtful as during the last few days - her smile was brilliant, and it was infectious. Geran felt much better immediately. Of course, his decision played a major role here. It wasn't important if he did it today or tomorrow. Right now, he was glad that he met her.
"Are you going to walk outside the camp, Geran?" Ainoukh asked curiously. "We don't do that usually - it's too dangerous. Sometimes, bears come very close to our camp. But you aren't afraid of them, of course. May I accompany you? Or are you walking there to be alone?"
"No, Ainoukh, in fact I'm going to meet a friend - Wolf. I told you about him."
"Yes, I remember," Ainoukh agreed, "but you told me that he isn't very much interested in our affairs. I'm afraid he won't like it if I come with you."
Geran grinned. "In general, he isn't interested. But wolves aren't any less curious than humans. I told him about you, of course - I see you every day, so it would have been strange not to mention your name. I'm absolutely positive that he'd like to look at you. But he probably won't admit it - wolves have a very strong sense of propriety."
"That's not a bad trait," Ainoukh noted. "I'd like to look at him, too, honestly speaking. Do you mind if I come with you?"
"No, of course I don't. I'm not sure if we'll meet him, though. Quite often, he changes his plans. We'll see soon - usually, we meet on the other side of this little hill."
When they circumvented the hill, they saw that Wolf was already waiting. As soon as he noticed that Geran was not alone, his tongue lolled out. Much to Geran's surprise, Ainoukh knew what this meant.
"If he were a dog, I'd say he's laughing. But I can't see what's so funny," she remarked.
"He's laughing at me," Geran admitted. "He finds our human customs very strange, and he's always amused when I'm in trouble observing them."

Of course, there wasn't any need to introduce Ainoukh to Wolf. He had perceived her scent before - the traces of it that sticked to Geran's clothes were sufficient for the nose of a wolf.
"She smells good," he said.
Geran translated for Ainoukh. "It doesn't mean only the smell," he explained. "That's the most significant thing for a wolf, of course, but in fact he's saying that he likes you."
"I like him, too," Ainoukh replied. "Do you think he'll like it if I stroke him?"
Geran grinned again. "You'd better not," he said. "Wolves like that not less than dogs. But the problem is that they don't want to be like dogs. So he'll never admit it. It's a matter of pride." He hadn't forgotten Wolf's laugh, and he enjoyed it that Wolf could understand his explanation. Indeed, Wolf looked a little offended.
Ainoukh looked at Geran thoughtfully. "I wonder how you look as a wolf," she said. "Please, could you show me?"
There wasn't anything wrong with that, and Geran blurred in the form of a wolf almost without thinking. Ainoukh looked at him with her curious brown eyes - and then she bowed down to him and stroked him, of course. In this form, Geran understood instantly why Wolf's tongue lolled out, again.
Geran saw that Ainoukh compared him with Wolf, and then she frowned.
"That's very strange...," she said. "Can you understand me?" she asked.
Geran changed back to his natural form. "Of course, I can understand you, but you wouldn't understand my answer. What's so strange?"
"You told me that Wolf is about your age, even a bit younger," Ainoukh said. "But as a wolf, you look much younger."
"That's because I am young - for a human, and he's fairly old for a wolf. We're both twenty-two years old. There are exceptions, but most wolves don't live very much longer than this. Of course, I can't be sure how long I'll live."
Ainoukh smiled. "I thought all mighty sorcerers live eons, like Belgarath or Zedar."
Geran shrugged. "Not if they die before, they won't. There's a fight waiting for me, and we don't know when this will happen. Eriond thinks it won't be this year, but he can't be sure. That's why I always take this sword with me - just to be on the safe side."
"Are you trying to say that you aren't sure you will win?" Ainoukh asked incredulously.
"I hope I'll win - I think I'm a rather good fighter," Geran replied modestly. "Aldur taught me to use my talent of sorcery. We'd avoid this fight if there wasn't a chance for our victory. It would be horrible if Mordja got Riva's sword. Instead, we hope to win back Cthrek Goru - Torak's Black Sword of Shadows."
Ainoukh stared at him in disbelief. He wanted to fight Mordja, and he hoped to defeat him?! Nobody could win against a demon, let alone a Demon Lord. Whenever this fight would be - Geran wouldn't survive it. If she understood him right, there wasn't much time left. Ainoukh couldn't wait any longer, and there was no real need for that. She was sure that she loved him, she knew that she wanted to be a very good wife, and she wanted his child. If there wasn't much time for happiness, they'd have to be very happy.
Wolf had watched her thoroughly. Of course, he couldn't read her mind, but he felt that she made a decision. "One thinks you're not very perceptive in your human form," he told Geran. "She wants to tell you something - something very important. One will wait for you here tomorrow." And then he loped away.
Ainoukh didn't care. She was determined not to lose any more time, not even seconds.
"Geran, I liked you from the very first moment I saw you. Now I feel that it's much more than that - I love you. I know that you like me, too, but... would you want to be my husband?"
Geran didn't believe his ears. He had waited for this moment, and now he realized that he wasn't prepared for it. Of course, he wouldn't answer "no", but he couldn't simply say "yes" - this wasn't something he could decide alone. He was the Crown Prince of Riva, after all. Suddenly, he realized that Ainoukh quite obviously misunderstood his hesitation. There were tears in her eyes already. Geran didn't waste any more time with words. He embraced her tenderly, and then he kissed her. This time, it wasn't a mere demonstration what "kiss" means. It was Ainoukh's first serious kiss, but she seemed to have a natural talent. It took some time before Geran had a chance to say something again.
"I love you, too, Ainoukh. But there's a problem - I can't say 'yes' without asking my father and my mother, first. I'll be the King of Riva some day, and this is not only a right of birth, it's a duty. Don't be too much afraid, though. I'm sure my parents don't have other plans for me so far - they would have told me. I think they will respect my feelings, and maybe they'll even see some political advantages in our marriage. But I don't want to know what mother would tell me if I married you without so much as asking her."
Ainoukh shuddered. "Of course, you can't do that, Geran! It's very important for me that she approves of it. It's customary for a wife to live in the house of her husband - we'll have to go there immediately after our wedding. Your mother will be my mother, and I'll have to obey her. This would be very hard if she didn't like me." She sighed. "I'm afraid we won't marry soon. It's very far to Riva, I'll have to wait weeks for the answer of your mother."
Geran was absolutely positive that mother would like these customs. "You forgot that we're a strange family. I'm a sorcerer, like my father, and I can speak to him any time I want. Mother isn't a sorceress, but she has an amulet helping her to keep in touch with me. When she has it in her hand, she can hear me. We talk every evening before she goes to sleep - this will be in a couple of hours. It's more difficult if I want to establish contact myself."
"But you can do that, if you want?" Ainoukh asked.
"Yes, I can - but I'd do that only if it's urgent," Geran answered.
Her look told him more than her words. She spoke slowly, stressing every word, as if talking to a child. "Geran, this is urgent."
With a sigh, Geran concentrated. It wasn't difficult to draw mother's attention to her amulet - the tricky part was not to exaggerate. He didn't want to hurt her. However, the only way he knew would make her amulet rather hot. Indeed, already after a short moment he heard her troubled voice in his mind.
"Geran, what's the matter?"
Of course, Geran could answer with his thought alone, but he preferred to speak aloud. He wanted that Ainoukh heard at least one half of this talk.
"Sorry, mother, this is sort of an emergency. I finally met the girl I was looking for during all those years - the girl I love. And now, we want to marry."
Ce'Nedra sighed. Of course, she always knew that this would happen some day. In fact, she was lucky that it didn't happen earlier. Quite a few people in Riva thought that it was about time for the Crown Prince to marry - five or six years ago. They couldn't understand what he was looking for. Many of them even proposed completely acceptable candidates - usually a daughter or a niece. Honestly speaking, Ce'Nedra was glad that Geran never had very much interest in those busty blond-braided Alorn girls. His explanation for his parents was always the same: "She's very nice, I guess - but I feel it's not the right one."
It was much more difficult to explain that to the proud fathers and uncles.
"You're sure that she's the right one," Ce'Nedra said. It wasn't a question, of course. Ce'Nedra knew her son.
"It was my fate to meet her, mother - just as it was father's fate to meet you," Geran replied. "Eriond told me many years ago that I'd meet this wonderful girl. Now it happened, there's no doubt. Her name is Ainoukh. She's the daughter of Edensaw, the chief of the chiefs of all tribes of the Morindim following Eriond."
"This makes him a king, so she's a princess... I believe you, Geran. But it's definitely not fair," Ce'Nedra complained, "I can't even look at her!"
Geran remembered what he knew about her amulet. During his stay in the Vale, he had asked Aldur how it worked. He really didn't want any more bad surprises - her sudden understanding of Wolfish was just enough for his taste. Of course, Aldur's explanation wasn't very detailed, but it should be possible to perceive visual images with the amulet, too.
"I believe that you should be able to see us through your amulet," he told her.
Of course, Ce'Nedra was enthusiastic. "How can I do that, Geran?"
Unfortunately, Geran had only a very vague notion of that. "It will be best if you close your eyes. Think of me, and concentrate on your hand with the amulet. Try to see me with your hand." Geran felt himself that this explanation was a bit obscure. "Does that make any sense, mother?"
"Not really, Geran. But I'll try."
The Will and the Word was probably the biggest power in this world, but curiosity was a close second. After a short time, Geran could hear a gasp.
"Geran, I can see you! But there's only fog around you."
"You're great, mother! Now it should be easy - concentrate on my right-hand side. Try to look there with your hand."
This time, Ce'Nedra didn't waste time with acid comments. Geran could literally feel how hard she worked on this task.
And then, Ce'Nedra saw Ainoukh. Of course, she was surprised. Geran had met any number of pretty and noble girls. If it was true that Polgara's twins were very similar to her sister Beldaran, they were probably the most beautiful girls in the West. Ainoukh looked rather nondescipt, instead. She had a dark skin, narrow eyes, her short nose and her high cheek bones made her face almost flat. However, Ce'Nedra was a mother and a woman. She saw how her son looked at Ainoukh, and she saw how Ainoukh looked at Geran. He was absolutely right, here was simply no room for doubt. They were both in love, and deliriously happy. The smile on Ainoukh's face was radiant. Ce'Nedra decided that it made her beautiful, too. It was just another kind of beauty, coming from inside. She tried to imagine Ainoukh in a snowy-white wedding gown. This would be a very interesting contrast to her dark skin. Of course, they had to do something about her hair...
"Mother, are you still there?" Geran asked after a while.
Ce'Nedra chuckled. "Sorry, Geran, I thought about something. I hope you'll wait a bit yet? We'd like to attend your wedding, of course."
Geran swallowed hard. Their journey to Morindland would take months. He told Ainoukh what he had heard. "Your mother can see and hear me?" Ainoukh asked. Geran nodded.
Ainoukh bowed her head politely in the general direction of Riva. "I'm very sorry, Queen Ce'Nedra, but this is not the way we do things here. Our customs require that the wedding will be very soon - Geran agreed to be my husband. Immediately after the wedding, he has to bring me to the house of his mother - to your house in Riva. It will be my home, then. I think we could do there all celebrations which your customs might require."
Geran saw the opportunities of that proposal, of course. "I think she's right, mother. We could have a second wedding ceremony in the Temple of Belar in Riva. Don't you think this would convince even the most stubborn Rivans? They could have some objections to the validity of a ceremony here in Morindland, you know."
Ce'Nedra hadn't even thought of that before. They were right! She already saw this wedding in Riva before her eyes, with lots of royal guests from all parts of the world...
Suddenly, Ce'Nedra realized another aspect of it. This Morind girl wouldn't take away her son. Instead, she would finally bring him back home, after all those years! Ce'Nedra loved her.
"Geran, please tell Ainoukh that I'm looking forward to embrace her here in Riva," she asked him.
Geran hurried to do so.
Ainoukh's smile grew even brighter. "I can't wait for that." Soon, very soon she would be able to add the word "mother".
Ce'Nedra giggled. There was something else what got her attention now.
"Geran, does that mean that you will have two wedding nights?" she asked him.
Geran decided to answer only with a thought this time. "I don't know, mother. Ainoukh didn't tell me anything about the wedding customs here - quite deliberately, I guess. But I do know that there won't be anything resembling night within the next few months - it's still arctic summer here," Geran said somewhat evasively. "I should talk with father now, I guess," he added aloud.

Geran spoke to his father with his thought alone. Ainoukh wasn't particularly interested. Her new mother would like her - that was the only important thing. She was happy.
"Please, don't shout again," Garion said in a pained voice when Geran contacted him. "Your cry 'mother' was probably louder than Torak's."
Geran blushed. "Mother didn't have the amulet in her hand, and I had to get her attention," he said defensively. "Do you think many could hear me?"
"Oh, not very many, I think," Garion replied dryly, "just the Gods and the sorcerers - and probably only on this side of the universe."
Geran groaned. "What will Aldur think?"
Garion laughed. "He hasn't much of a choice - you informed us all what's the matter with you. I could follow your conversation fairly well, with one exception. I can't know what your mother saw through her amulet. Are you sure it was wise to teach her that?"
"Father, you're not fair," Geran protested, "you know that mother didn't even eavesdrop when she noticed that it was private."
Garion knew that - he just wasn't sure about Ce'Nedra's definition of privacy.
"Do you suppose you could show me your bride, too?" he asked.
Geran blushed again. "Sorry, father - I forgot."
Garion
"Garion"
by Gariongirl
Naturally, Garion wasn't surprised at all. He saw Ainoukh quite literally through the loving eyes of his son. "She loves you," he stated the obvious.
"And I love her, father."
"I can see why. This second wedding ceremony in the Temple of Belar is an excellent idea. Let's hope it will turn the trick to bully the Rivans into accepting such an exotic wife of the Crown Prince," Garion sighed. "It will have to be a very impressive ceremony. You'll travel through Drasnia, Algaria and Sendaria on your way to Riva. Maybe it would be a good idea to introduce Ainoukh to the respective kings and to invite them to your wedding. Princess Ainoukh... it has a certain ring to it. This marriage will have one big advantage - it will show to all the world that we are serious about this alliance with the converted Morindim."
"I hoped you'd see it that way," Geran said. "I'm sure the Morindim do".
He felt that his father grinned. "I wonder why Ainoukh didn't tell you anything about their wedding customs, Geran. There must be some surprise that she wouldn't spoil. I wish you luck with your first wedding!"
"Very funny!" Geran was afraid that his father was right here.

During the next few days, Ainoukh was very busy. Of course, he saw her every day when she brought him food. She never missed an opportunity to rub her nose on his, or to exercize in kissing. However, she didn't have much time for explanations. Naturally, he asked her about details of the wedding.
Ainoukh smiled. "Why do you ask? You'll see very soon - the wedding will be in four days. Unfortunately, it isn't possible earlier - the brewing of pia takes so long." She explained how this beverage was made of roots and berries. Geran discovered that he didn't want to know how the roots were grinded. The brewing took the longest time, though.
"Can't you do anything about that?" Ainoukh asked him. "You're a sorcerer."
"I could accelerate the process of brewing, probably, but I'm afraid it would influence the taste," Geran answered dubiously.
"Then we'll just have to wait," Ainoukh sighed.
"I just wanted to know a bit more about your customs," Geran tried again. "I don't want to make a mistake."
Ainoukh kissed him tenderly. "Don't be afraid, Geran. I'll be with you, and I won't let you make a mistake," she promised.
Geran gave in. "I'm lucky that you don't use the favorite words of an old friend of mine - 'trust me'," he said.
Ainoukh laughed. "But it means the same, doesn't it? Don't worry, the ceremony is rather short. Formerly, it was performed by the magician. He raised a demon as a witness, and then the couple promised to be good and faithful spouses. Then, the magician spoke the traditional words declaring them married. And that was all." She laughed again. "I suspect that the ceremony was that short because the magician didn't want to take risks with his pet demon. Now our priest of Eriond will have to perform the ceremony, I guess. So ask Berd about details, please. It's a nice coincidence - Eriond told us not long ago that we'll have to call him as a witness in those cases."
Geran laughed out loud. "Coincidence?! I know him better. He knew perfectly well that he was speaking about our wedding. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew the exact day already when I called him."
Ainoukh's eyes grew wide. "I remember the scene. He was very serious when he talked to the men - but then he smiled at me. I wondered why, but now I understand."

Geran really asked Berd about the details of a wedding ceremony in Morindland. The young Dal shrugged. "How would I know, Geran? I've never seen one. Eriond told me that I have to call him, as soon as the young couple is in front of me. He will come, and I'll know what to do and to say."
"They think this is funny," Geran complained. "What if somebody is raising a demon somewhere at that very moment? Eriond can't be everywhere at the same time."
Berd looked at him with a strange expression. "Geran, this marriage isn't just an idea of Ainoukh and you. It's a major Event. Necessity would rather stop time in the rest of the universe than to let Eriond miss your wedding. That's why I'm calm - they simply won't let us make a mistake."
Geran had heard this before, but he didn't find it comforting for some reason. "Eriond told you that?" he asked.
"Eriond was told to tell me that," Berd corrected. "This isn't his idea. He knew that you'd ask me, and he said you shouldn't worry - everything will be fine."
Geran suppressed his urge to scream.

The next day, when Ainoukh brought his breakfast, she looked critically at his clothes. "You don't want to marry in these garments, I hope."
Geran saw the problem, of course. "It's not very appropriate, I know," he answered with a sigh, "but I don't have anything better. Eriond found it funny not to warn me that I'd come here mainly to find my destined bride, and now we've got a problem."
Ainoukh smiled. "I think he did it right. If he warned you, you'd probably stay at home through fear or stubborness, and what would I do then? We'll solve this little problem. But you'll have to come with me after you finished eating finally."
"Fear? Stubborn?" Geran asked incredulously.
"All men are stubborn," Ainoukh declared. "And if you don't fear me, I chose wrong."
She laughed when she saw his face. "Oh, Geran, I love you."
Geran kissed her. "And I love you. But if you tell me such things now - what will you say after our wedding?"
"That's a very good question, Geran. And the strange feeling in your stomach while asking it - that's called fear. You didn't know that, did you? Great heros probably aren't supposed to know that feeling. Will you finish eating soon?"
Geran groaned. "The feeling in my stomach is called hunger, and it's not likely to vanish if you don't stop asking when I'll finish eating - I didn't start eating yet!"
Ainoukh sat down and tried to demonstrate unlimited patience while waiting for him. Unfortunately, she wasn't very good at it. Geran ate not very much. Of course, he could understand her. He knew by now how much work had to be done in a Morindim household - exclusively by women. The men devoted themselves to hunt and war.
"Well, where are we going now?" he asked her.
"We are going to my father. He managed to find fine clothes for you, ceremonial garments of a great chief. It was difficult to find them. He was nearly as tall as you - but not nearly as lean." Ainoukh sighed. "It won't be easy to make them fit."

Not far from his tent, a group of women erected a fairly small tent of a bright red color. Their giggling and whispering intensified when they noticed Ainoukh and Geran.
"Red is the color of luck," Ainoukh explained.
"This red tent will have to do with our wedding, of course," Geran said tentatively.
Ainoukh was clearly amused. "Geran, I like Berd. But I'm not going to marry just to hear some ceremonial words out of his mouth."
Geran decided not to ask any more questions. He began to realize that the feeling in his stomach might be not only hunger.

The clothes Edensaw showed him were made of very fine leather, and richly ornamented. Ainoukh asked him to pull them on. Her face grew sad when she saw the fit, and she groaned when she inspected the artfully done seems.
"Wait a moment," Geran asked her. He didn't create a mirror - the illusion of a mirror would do as well. When he stretched out his arms to the sides, he couldn't help laughing. The sleeves were a little short nonetheless, and the clothes were very loose. Geran imagined in detail how he wanted them to fit. Then he shimmered.
"Wouldn't that be better?" he asked Ainoukh.
She didn't believe her eyes. Again, she checked carefully every detail. Then her face grew bright, and she embraced him fiercely. "Thank you, Geran. You saved me and my friends many hours. Maybe I'll even sleep a bit. My girlfriends are telling me that it wouldn't be a bad idea. And they tell me to advise you the same."
Geran felt very good in her embrace.
"We'll come to that, be patient," Ainoukh whispered. "You can take them off now," she added a bit louder.
Geran obeyed immediately. After the little changes he made, he felt rather comfortable in these garments - within reason. The words he was used to hear from early childhood while wearing fine clothes - don't wrinkle them, don't make them dirty - could have to do with that.

And then, the day of their wedding had arrived, finally. This time, nobody brought breakfast. Geran appreciated that - he wasn't sure if he would be able to eat.
Instead, Edensaw ceremonially handed him his wedding garment. "This is my gift for your wedding, Prince Geran. It was fairly expensive."
Geran could imagine that. When he had dressed, Edensaw and the warriors waiting in front of his tent accompanied him to Berd's house. They all wore weapons, ceremonial clothes and lots of feathers in their hair. The addition of much red color made the tattoos on their faces even more impressive. Geran was content that he had taken his sword without so much as thinking about it. Somehow he felt that it wouldn't be right without it.
When they approached the tent of the priest of Eriond, Geran saw Ainoukh coming from the other side. There were lots of women around her. Some of these women were incredibly ancient. Their eyes, however, were young, and they smiled at Geran. He guessed that these were the Mothers. Probably, they didn't show much in public.
Ainoukh, of course, was the most beautiful even of the young women - Geran was sure of that. She was dressed in bright red, and a few additional red symbols had appeared on her cheeks. Geran realized that they were probably only paintings - he hadn't seen them in the faces of other women before.

Berd came out of his tent. His face was serious, but calm. Immediately, there was absolute silence.
"Let's call our God as a witness for this ceremony," Berd said. "Eriond!"
Eriond appeared beside him. Actually, his only role here was to be present - and he was very present.
As Ainoukh had predicted, Berd wouldn't waste time with a long sermon.
"Are these two from different clans?" he asked.
"This is Ainoukh, she's from my clan - the Turtle clan," one of the old women answered.
"This young man, Geran, is from the clan of the Tree," Edensaw said.
Berd nodded gravely.
"Ainoukh, you chose this man, Geran, to be your husband. You'll love him and be him a good wife," he said. It didn't even sound like a question.
"Yes, I will," Ainoukh answered in a clear voice.
"Geran, you agreed to be Ainoukh's husband. You'll love and protect her."
"Yes, I will," Geran replied. The lump in his throat disappeared in the last possible moment.
Berd's eyes went a little distant, and Geran felt that the following words came out of his mouth with a little help from Eriond.

"Now you will feel no rain,
for each of you will be
shelter for the other.
Now you will feel no cold,
for each of you will be
warmth to the other.
Now there will be no
loneliness.
Now you are two persons,
but there is only one life
ahead of you.
Go now to your dwelling
to enter into the days
of your life together."
Geran noticed that the Mothers looked very satisfied. These were the traditional words pronounced in a wedding ceremony since eons. Nothing had changed - just the witness was a smiling God instead of a hideous demon, who could break loose at any moment and eat the magician together with a few wedding guests. They would learn to live with that.
Eriond did introduce something new, though. He embraced Geran. "You're lucky, Geran. She's a wonderful girl."
Then he kissed the forehead of the bride. His lips happened to touch the Yin symbol - the sign that Ainoukh would be a good wife. And he remembered Ainoukh's explanation. She knew all about being a wife, including all twenty-four ways to do it...
"Good choice, Ainoukh," Eriond said, "but now I really don't want to delay you."
And he was gone.
After Eriond had left, the jokes and the laughter returned.
Ainoukh took Geran's hand. "Let's go!" she said.
At the same moment as she touched Geran, the Orb burst out in a joyous symphony of all colors of the rainbow. It was very bright, so it got the immediate attention of the crowd. Strangely enough, it didn't frighten anybody. For some reason, Geran was sure that the Orb just joined the happiness of all the others.
"If I didn't know it's impossible, I'd say this burning stone is laughing," one of the warriors remarked with a grin.
Edensaw used this opportunity for a little speech. "I think can explain that to you," he declared in a loud voice. "According to the customs of the Alorns, this sword with the burning stone of power - they call it Orb of Aldur - is inherited from a father to his son. Geran got it from his father, and he will give it to his son. It seems that the stone has every confidence in our Ainoukh that this will happen soon," he added finally with a wink.
This caused new gales of laughter. Geran couldn't help smiling, too. For all he knew, this explanation could be perfectly right. He felt that the Orb liked Ainoukh.
The crowd around the couple was impatient by now and began to move in an indefinite direction. Wether they wanted or not - they had to move with them.
"According to your preparations, the celebration won't be as short as the ceremony," Geran remarked.
"Of course, not - it will last seven circles of the sun, actually," Ainoukh replied.
One week - what a waste of time, Geran thought with sadness.
"But they have to fulfill one duty before they can celebrate," Ainoukh said.
"Oh, I wonder which one," Geran said cautiously.
"They'll have to lead the way. We could get lost in the camp, but they'll make sure that we'll find the red tent," Ainoukh explained.
Geran stared at her. "Are you trying to say that they'll celebrate, while we'll be in the wedding tent - all the time?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. Don't worry, they brought something to eat and to drink there already, and they'll bring more if necessary. We aren't going to starve in the red tent," Ainoukh told him with a happy smile.
Suddenly, Geran was glad that nobody had spoiled that surprise. "It's a little different from our customs," he stated with relief. "In the Alorn kingdoms, the celebrations start immediately after the wedding ceremony. The young couple goes into their chamber only for the wedding night."
Ainoukh was startled. "Only for a couple of hours while it's dark? And then?"
"Then the groom continues to celebrate with his friends," Geran confessed.
"And the bride will wait until he stopped drinking with the other men, and then until he is sober enough to be of any use?" Ainoukh asked in exasperation.
"More or less so, it differs a bit. But in Cherek, your description would be fairly accurate," Geran admitted.
Ainoukh sighed. "You're barbarians, Geran!"
Geran was not sure now what he found more irritating - the crowd behind them, who wouldn't allow them to stop even for a moment, or the crowd in front of them, who didn't allow them to go faster. Of course, this procession was not silent. Geran heard lots of jokes and funny advices, mostly given by women in words Geran had never heard before. However, he understood that they were teasing him a bit. Finally, he found an ally. A little girl of about ten or eleven actually chided the adult women. "Don't say such things - I'm sure Prince Geran isn't that stupid! He may not know the word, but even I know, what Per Vaya means."
This drew the attention to the little girl, of course, and her mother seemed very proud of her.
"What are these words - do Morindim women even have a secret language, taboo for men?" Geran whispered.
Ainoukh chuckled. "Those words aren't secret, but they are from the old language, and forgotten by men. I told you that we are taught by our mothers from early girlhood, and all the ways to do it have names. 'Per Vaya' just means 'The First' - I'll show you why."
"I can't wait for that - I'm always eager to learn," Geran said. "I hope they won't continue all those jokes all day?"
"Oh no, Geran," Ainoukh assured him. "As soon as we are safe in that red tent, they'll immediately leave for the feast. We'll be alone, and we'll have lots of time. Be patient, it's just around this corner."
And then, the entry of the red tent was closed symbolically behind them.

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