Ankūro

22

22

Sometimes we see strength,
Sometimes we see a weakness,
When we should see both.
- Kangua.

She practiced with those reeds, in the water, for far longer than an hour. Ajo admired her dedication but, he had to admit, he saw little point in the exercise. Still, it seemed like something she found worth doing and, in that, he found its worth, through her.

When she emerged from the waters, drying herself with the blanket he had wrapped her belongings in, she picked through the clothes he had brought for her and dressed. She almost looked like she always looked, beautiful, graceful, dignified. Then his eyes would rise to her damaged face and the ragged remnants of her hair and he would feel that ache in his chest.

The pile of reeds had gone, replaced by a pile of broken scraps. Not once had she managed to slice through the water without a reed breaking, yet she had continued, cursing herself every time the reed broke. Now, the next day, she sat beside him, her head resting upon his shoulder, nibbling at a dumpling he had brought from home.

It almost felt normal, as if they had decided to visit the temple on a whim, bringing food for a meal as they drank in the peaceful atmosphere of their surroundings. He understood life could never be normal again. Not anymore. Not in Kaima village. That life had become irrevocably shattered due to the pettiness of one man.

Ajo did not doubt that the village would no longer be the safe, uncomplicated haven it had become over the last fourteen years. Too much had happened. Too many people now knew Tiima's secret. Ajo doubted many, if any, of the villagers would accept Tiima for who she was. That possibility died when the tax collector had ripped her femininity from her before the entire village.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, and leaned in, kissing the top of her head. Even now, she didn't appear to feel bitter about the events that led her here. She accepted what had happened and carried on, still filled with hope. A hope that Ajo could not share.

"We're going to have to leave, aren't we?" She murmured, looking up to him with those expressive eyes of hers.

"I think so." Turning his head, he stared at the pile of broken reeds. "I'll see about selling the Ka house and then we'll try somewhere else. We lasted fourteen years here, maybe next time we'll find a home for a lifetime?"

"I'll miss it." Her hands dropped to her lap, the half-eaten dumpling resting in her fingers. "It's been our home."

Ajo couldn't agree with that. Most of the ill-will they received, the villagers had directed at him. None as forcefully as the Headwoman, but, still, he had heard the whispers of the villagers and their reluctance to accept the 'outsiders'. Fourteen years as outsiders, never accepted. That was too long for anybody. Now they would have to start again, become outsiders in another place.

It was true, the Headwoman, Apé, had relaxed her attitude of late. He had even started to feel a warmth from her, something he would have found suspicious in the days before the bandit raid and before the tax collector tore Tiima from him. He had found himself thinking of the Headwoman more and more, too, giving him mixed feelings to churn within his mind.

It seemed strange and cruel that the selfsame events that had caused Apé and him to become closer, were also the events that would separate them before they could explore those fledgling feelings they both now felt. Even if he and Tiima did not have to leave the village, the idea of a Headwoman and a peasant Ka house owner becoming a match would be as ridiculous a fantasy as it appeared. It would never work.

"They didn't use me for comfort, Papa. At least there is that." Tiima demurred from saying what she meant.

They hadn't raped her. The thought had risen in his mind more than once since he had returned from Esoru. Of all the things they could have and, by the looks of her poor face, did do to her, that would have crushed him. For her to become used like that would have set him in such an impotent rage, he didn't know how it would have affected him. And how it would have affected Tiima, he could not even imagine. Even her gentle nature must have limits.