death. And you’re not even from my own settlement .
Now the young man lifted the amulet toward her,worried: Are you sure you want to give this to me?
She nodded emphatically: Yes!
Reverently, with his eyes fixed on hers, he kissed the amulet gently and pulled it over his shining, dark curls. After shaking his hair loose from the cord, he threw a questioning look at Annah.
Confused, she tipped her head and gave him a questioning look of her own: What do you want to know?
He pursed his lips, obviously pondering how to ask his question. Apparently coming to a decision, he took a deep breath, extended his left hand toward her, pointed his right hand toward himself, and held the gesture. Watching her steadily, he clasped his hands together formally, in the manner of a man and woman pledging themselves to each other in a marriage ceremony.
Annah blinked. Surely he wasn’t asking her to be his wife? But even as this wave of disbelief arose within her, she knew: He was asking her to accept him. He repeated the motions, his gaze compelling her to answer: Can you pledge yourself to me?
She managed to respond with a faint, questioning flick of her hand: You and me?
He nodded, echoing her gesture firmly: You and me. How? Annah wondered. Yerakh would refuse anyway. And I would have to speak to him, using words . The thought was frightening. Yerakh would kill her for deceiving him for so many years. But she couldn’t refuse this young man. Instead, she raised her hands and shrugged to indicate her uncertainty. She did not have to express her fear, she knew; it was obvious.
He nodded and smiled comfortingly: I understand . Glancing up at the warm, pink sky, he indicated the mid-morning sun.
He has to go, Annah realized. He’s probably stayed longer than he intended .
As she perceived this, he gestured to her, then to the riverbank on which she sat. He wants to know if I’ll be here tomorrow . She nodded.
His answering smile was radiant. To bid her farewell, he lifted the amulet to his lips and kissed it.
Dazed, Annah mimicked his gesture, kissing her treasured shell carving. Still unable to move, she watched him leave. He looked back at her once, smiled his enchanting smile, then vanished into the trees lining his side of the river. Annah had to remind herself to tuck the precious shell carving beneath her tunic once more. How can I ever marry him? It’ll never happen , she thought despondently. Not even if we live a thousand years .
Annah sat on the riverbank, still too dazed to move. Lifting her eyes to the tranquil sky, she sighed, cherishing the sensation: He desired her. He wanted her to be his wife. Then she grimaced. If he truly understood me, he’d never return to the riverbank. Why should he want me? I am a nothing .
Despite her attempt to prepare herself for disappointment, the morning took on a new sweetness. The sparkling water seemed to reflect her elation, flowing before her, teeming with long, plump, many-colored fish. The fish slipped toward her, then away and back again, as if they were playing, coaxing her to join them.
How different the river looks today , Annah thought, gazing at the clear, swift-flowing water, enraptured. How different everything is now, compared to the day when I first saw him. Has it really been only two days?
She felt that nothing could touch her now. She felt only her joy; even if she never married, she could tell herself that he had desired her. To share her happiness, she gathered some seeds, berries, and snippets from nearby plants, and cast them into the river. The fish, obedient to her whims, sped after her offerings to nibble them; their unending curiosity and appetites served to cleanse the river of debris. Pleased that the fish had accepted her offerings, Annah retrieved her bag, swept her veil over her head, and turned toward the settlement. Her stomach was growling uncomfortably. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such hunger.
You can eat as soon