Part Two The Shining Star

PART TWO

THE SHINING STAR

11 Siranjaro Fire

Siranjaro Fire

THE FIRELORD sat in the centre of the celebrations, his majestic face serene and slightly smiling, his fine, darkskinned hands toying with his silver cup of wine. All around him rang the jubilant noises of feasting, shrill laughter and talk. The music was spirited, the dancing riotous. Most of the men still sat at the table feasting, but many were at the other end of the great hall, dancing with the women who still waited to eat.

Torches blazed all along the walls and the fire roared. The din reverberated in the high stone walls, and the wooden floor shook with the wild stamping of the dancers. I stood by the big fireplace at the end of the dining table, and watched.

I could not take part in the festivities. I could not dance, since the Chosen would not touch me, and the women, when it was finally their turn to eat, ignored me. It was forbidden for me to touch the chairs of the Chosen, so I could not sit at the table, and I could not reach over to get a plate of food without touching an elbow or a shoulder. Had I been better acquainted with these people, I might have risked breaking one of their petty laws, but the Firelord and I had arrived here only this evening, and this was his welcome-feast. I knew by now to treat the Chosen with deference until they were used to me.

The noise was lessening now, and the men stood in groups talking and laughing while the women ate. It was very late, and the children complained and whined, and the women gave their daughters the finest sweets to keep them quiet. The boys had already eaten with their fathers, but now the younger ones lingered around their mothers for a second picking.

I stood and watched and hungered, and listened to the sounds of eating and talking and music. After the fourteen-day trek through the hazy grey of the mountains, the colour and brightness of the hall dazzled me. Firelight poured across the floor, blazed on painted boots, jewelled knives and polished leather belts. It glowed in fur, on brilliant clothes, gems, and on elated faces.

I pushed my hands up my blue embroidered sleeves, and tried to find my lord. He was talking to the owner of this house, and they were laughing together, the owner pleased and beaming, my lord amused and quiet. Young women went up to him with wine jars and offered to refill his silver cup, but he refused, smiling. I saw their faces blush as he talked to them, and saw them whispering together afterwards, ecstatic, overwhelmed.