4th Summer 514AV
If you looked in the right light and squinted really hard, you could see Yahebah in the distance, a conglomeration of abstract shapes against the glittering sands. If you kept looking in the same direction, you could probably see a smattering of dark shapes heading towards the wedding party. It was a caravan of foodstuffs, and somewhat of an embarassment for the patriarch Yusefze, who evidently had misplanned the amount of food needed for the run up to his sons wedding. It was drawing near to the end of the seven day period of prayer and although it was certainly a mark of young Ayyub's piety, the guests were eating his poor father out of tent and home.
Myrah hopped down from the ruined wall she had been sitting on. The guests were her family and she hadn't seen her eldest sister in almost a week, being isolated from her family in favour of the groom's. She wondered whether they were being good to her, or if they were as cold as they seemed when they met Myrah's family to have the official 'handing off' ceremony. The Yusefze tent was a good match though, well off and influential in Yahebah despite spending most of the year wandering the burning lands. It would have been better if the second oldest sister had been given up though, Myrah was close to the eldest, Mirian. Eyra, the second oldest, not so much as Myrah winced from the almightly pinch she received as Eyra handed her some wooden bangles and a stub of kohl.
"Little Myrah is to make herself pretty if it's at all possible," she drawled, looking bored, "it's almost time for the evening meal. Mother thinks this might be the night, there's only tomorrow and apparently she has it on good authority the groom was only given enough water for four days. Brother Yusefze is such a skimp! He didn't want to feed us more than he had to."
Eyra turned away, laughing at her own gossip, her younger sister trailing behind. She slipped on the bangles but tossed away the kohl before joining her mother under the tent of honour, a deep black dyed affair trimmed with gold and embroidered with desert flowers in bright red and silver thread. Every family had one like it for special occasions, but this one was exta fine quality. Yusefze might be a skimp on most occasions, but he knew to spend where it mattered. Myrah's mother smiled knowingly and picked up a kohl, cupping her daughter's chin in one hand and applying neatly with the other. She looked very regal herself, and had changed outfits everyday since they arrived, making quite the impression on the ladies of tent Yusefze.
"Tonight is the night, I think," she said quietly, discs of hammered metal on fine black silk swaying as she spoke, "the poor boy must have finished his long appeal for change by now." Myrah didn't know what she meant, but Eyra suppressed an unkind laugh, causing her mother to look at her sharply.
"I hope I taught yo-" but Mother Zaria was cut off as a rather dusty servant entered, carrying a large platter of olives and bread, as well as a kind of expensive sauce made from desert spices. With her mother's permission, Myrah and Eyra fell upon it. Smelling the rich sauce, the two little ones awoke from a slumber and Zaria knelt to arrange their clothes, rubbing their eyes for them and smoothing their hair. Before they too could feast on the green stuffed olives the two older sisters were enjoying a horn sounded somewhere outside. Myrah's heart lept. At last! There was a flurry of movement, as Havid entered and kissed his mother and then his sisters.
"He's here, do you want to come and see?" Havid said, smiling kindly. He laughed at his younger sisters both nodding eagerly and led them out into the late afternoon sun. Zaria remained, holding four year old Lailani with one hand and beckoning a cousin of the grooms to hold one year old Jaben with the other.
Ayyub looked terrible. It must have been true, about Yusefze only giving his son four days of water, because the grooms lips were cracked and sore. He looked exhausted and dusty and was quickly herded into a tent by relatives. No doubt they would be rubbing some kind of animal fat all over him to get the dry skin off. Myrah pulled a face, but turned happily when she heard the music. Some drums were given to her, ceremonial ones but functional just the same and she tapped along in time. Soon her dear eldest sister, the pride of tent Eliah, would emerge from the bridal tent surrounded by the grooms family, ready to join with another for life. If only it could be her in there, though Myrah, fingering her own shawl. Not to be married, but she would love to be the one covering her sister with the ceremonial veil. In the past it had been very strict, but nowadays the brides family often witnessed the covering and held the brides hand. Not here though, Yusefze's family was very traditional, it seemed and all of the proper traditions were being observed. Minutes passed, and the Rapa emerged, flanked by two of his servants and looking rather grim for such an occassion. The music became loud, and then hushed. A rustle behind an exquisite blue tent curtain, and then she emerged. Covered with a beautiful, irridescent shawl, it was a style that was traditional but beautiful, embroidered with delicate flowers and leaves with tiny discs of real silver on the hem. Myrah could hear her mother crying, as Mirian's smiling, proud face looked out at them. She caught her second sister's eye and gave her an extra warm smile.
The groom was ushered out, looking blank. He caught Myrah's eye too and his face took on a kind of nervous smile. She smiled back, and for the first time she saw him look genuinely warm. The Rapa was already talking, but as usual people weren't really listening. They were all fixated on Mirian, as she kissed her father on the cheek and took her place beside Ayyub. Yusefze, his father, stood beside his wife looking satisifed, as promises were exchanged and tokens too. Myrah was too far away to see properly, but when the company exploded into music she joined in well enough with her drums, joined by Eyra who was eyeing up the Yusefze cousins with mischeivous eyes. The dancing went on for hours, the Yusefze women were good dancers and had beautiful dancing clothes. Both sacred and secular songs were sung, and when the evening began to take on a chill great fires were lit. Mirian sat behind her husband, watching the festivities. The ceremonial veil was gone, replaced by a plainer dark one that showed off the beautiful jewels that she was wearing. Papa hadn't skimped. Myrah went to sit by him as he cradled his youngest son. He smelt of the spiced lamb they had been eating all night, and as she sat Myrah was handed another plate by a Yusefze woman. She recognised her, Lina, the matriarch. She muttered thanks in the formal way to show her respect, and bowed her head to say a prayer. Lina's sharp eyes met hers for a moment, before she nodded and moved away.
Eliah turned to her and smiled, "It'll be your turn, one day."
"Yes Papa."
"Would you like to be married to a fine man like Ayyub?"
"Yes, Papa."
"Good girl. Yahal will bless you. There are big days ahead of you, my sweet."
He looked upon her fondly, and Myrah bowed her head in respect. Being the third youngest sister, she was surprised to hear of marriage talk so soon, but maybe it was just the atmosphere. Her father wasn't so close to her, he doted on his eldest son and daughter the most, grooming them for great things. But she was still lucky, he taught her how to ride and how to shepherd, and he taught her a little about defending herself. Havid came to sit by them, taking Jaben from his father's arms and slinging him over his shoulder. He looked stony faced, which confused Myrah. Maybe he was just constipated, she thought. Rich lamb and all.
"Mother wants Jaben and Lailani to sleep, if we're to leave for Yahebah in the morning. She's got one on her, thinks there's going to be a sandstorm tomorrow." Eliah laughed and slapped his son on the shoulder.
"My Father never told me I was marrying a seer. I must pray for that evil magic to be gone by morning if we're to avoid a storm then, eh?"
Havid smiled thinly and took Myrah by the hand too, "Come on, Mother is being emotional because of Mirian and Eyra is off flirting with some of the Yusefze boys. You know she keeps calling all the men Brother instead of Uncle? Thinks she's an adult now."
Myrah said nothing and followed, entering the gold-rimmed tent to find her mother dramatically dabbing her cheeks with her expensive veil and playing distraught for all the world. The Yusufze girls clamoured to comfort her and Myrah struggled to not giggle. She took Lailani, who was genuinely upset at all the noise, picking her up and bobbing her up and down until she laughed. There was still food being served and despite her Mother instructing Havid to put the youngest to bed, the tent soon became the focus for the women to gather. Myrah recognised Lina who greeted Zaria as an equal yet maintained a distance, as well as her only daughter Lia. Her neices were there with Eyra, all silly girls Myrah thought, giggling at which boys they liked and how rich a tent they wanted to marry into. There was a cousin or some such named Yriana, whom Myrah got on well enough with. They had been riding out two or three times together whilst waiting for the groom and both enjoyed each other's company. They sat beside each other as the night went on, eventually ending when Yusefze's wife Lina abruptedly took her leave, giving the cue for the other ladies to depart. Eventually, Myrah felt her eyes drooping and fell into a heap of pillows next to Lailani. The music was still playing as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.