Into the Deep Wood

Asha stood in utter shock, a basket with a bottle of spilled milk on the ground.

Yet, her eyes shone with a certain light, an immediate understanding that something had been shared between them.

His eyes fixed on her.

Marat’s head had split a thousand ways - all trying to devise a way out, an explanation, a lie. For anyone to have witnessed this, why must it have been her?

“Asha.” He used her name deliberately. “What did you see?”

“I saw you.” She said, a nervous smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “And me, here. I saw nothing else.”

Her tone, the playful notes in it - he would rather have had her scream in terror and run. He would rather have her tell the town he shot a child in the woods.

She picked up the basket, sadly looking at the fresh milk soaking into the ground.

“I must get back. But,” She gave him a smile. “I will see you again.”

“Val!” He came into the house, but it was empty.

Marat collapsed on a chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose until the internal distress and rage gave way, and he hit the table, sending everything flying off - his fist landing on it so hard that you could hear the wooden dowels creak and splinter.

“Shit!” He let out a hard breath. How could he have messed up so badly?

He could not tell Val, not now. Nadia waited for a reason to rid them of him - always standing in the distance, watching.

“Marat?” Val opened the door, peeking around it.

Her hair was still wet from the river, although curling slightly around the hairline. Her smile was genuine and bright. He took that moment to look at her, truly look at her, and thought of how beautifully happiness colored her face,

Happiness that he could not risk taking away.

Everytime after the fateful evening, Asha had begun acting far braver in his company. She took every chance to touch his arm or brush her shoulder as she walked by. He no longer went out into the woods with the All-Father’s Reach.

Still, she caught him alone.

In the stables, where Marat would go to brush Aditi, she had appeared from around a stall. She watched him silently until he slowly ceased his task, lowering the brush in defeat.

“You take such good care of her,” Asha said, taking a step forward, then another, until she could lay a hand on the horse’s neck. Aditi yanked her head away, side-eyeing her with whites in her eyes. “She is a beauty.”

“She is.” He said coldly.

“You know,” she turned fully toward him, swinging her arms back and pushing her chest forward as she leaned her shoulders against the wooden pole, “it is a week until Fauna’s Day. And that night, unwed maidens are going to be highly regarded.” I'll tell.

She dramatically bit her lip, and as if on cue, Aditi snorted, annoyed.

“I’m sure it will be a fine celebration.” His tone did not change.

“And a maiden, she can choose whoever she wants.” She ran her fingers down a strand of hair. I'll tell.

A child, he thought.

“Do you want me to choose you, Marat?” She stepped toward him, and if she had taken another, she could reach out and touch him.

“I think you should choose someone else.”

“Why’s that? Do you not think me pretty?” She feigned offense, expectedly looking him in the eyes. It was clear she was flaunting her power over him.

I’ll tell.

“I do.”

“Do you not know what happens on Fauna’s Day?” A sly smile spread across her face, and she reached out to touch his hand, but he yanked it back. It did not seem to deter her. “It is a celebration of fertility, Marat. Where we ask the gods to make our daughters plenty, it is you I think of at night as I dream of it, lying in my bed. I could give you a son.”

“That’s enough, Asha.” He said, shaking his head. “You cannot speak like that.”

“I can do what I like. Just like you have already done what you liked.” She corrected him, irritation for a moment echoing her words. She gave him one last look, and the smile faded. “I’ll see you there, then.”

And she left. Marat breathed out heavily. This had quickly gotten out of control and he had to figure out a way to make it stop.

Everywhere the smell of parsley, mint, rosemary, and thyme drifted from the homes.

Fauna’s Day had begun early. At first light, a long procession of women in colorful dresses made their way down the main street - singing folk songs in unison - as some played damasas drums or rang handbells. It was as if the sun’s rays that day had been different, a little more rosy and gentle on the eyes.

The first fires were already lit in a field by the river that had been completely cleared. Val was relieved to see no pit by the water or sacrificial red sun drawn in the dirt. The effigy of Fauna reminded her of the one at the farm, but this one had been taller - grander, supported by structured wood beams running up its sides. A fire had not been lit below her; piles upon piles of food and goods had been stacked at the base instead.

The All-Mother caught her arm in the crowd.

“My dear Valeria!” She exclaimed. “I was just looking for you, all morning I was! May Fauna smile upon you.”

Valeria smiled and squeezed the old woman’s hand.

“It is good to see you, Mother. Fauna’s blessings onto you as well.” Val did not know the verbiage of this particular god, but in her experience, all celebrations done in the name of deities had many very interchangeable characteristics. In her village, one could not hope to remember each god’s preferred greeting, but one could recall a handful and just change the name.

“Come, come.” Avgusta pulled on her arm. “The garlanding of the River is going to happen soon! You must get ready!”

Val looked to Marat but he only shrugged.

Avgusta took Val away from the crowds and into a farmhouse at the edge of the field. In it were many young ladies, all made up with lip stains and rosiness on their cheeks. The air in the room was alive with excited chatter and the smell of powders and perfumes.

“Here.” Avgusta handed Val a soft and pure white caftan - there was not a single blemish on the threads.

The All-Mother spoke to them as everyone had gotten ready, announcing how they were to behave. First, the maidens would go to the fields and pick their flowers. Each needed two handfuls. Then, they would sit in a circle around Fauna’s effigy and weave them into crowns of bloom. Then, they would place the crown of flowers on their heads and receive hot honey wine before going to the river and placing their wreaths in the water from the docks.

The process took quite a while, and it was far past midday when they had all returned to the effigy. Everyone had been gathered around and listening to the All-Mother speak.

“My good people!” The All-Mother called out. “Our daughters have come together here today to give their purity to the gods!”

A respectful cheer rolled through the crowd, and the All-Mother continued.

“And now, daughters, under our blessed sky, you will place the crown of youth and beauty on the head of the sister to your left, as we are not one - but one community.”

All the girls walked toward the river, their crowns of flowers in their hands. As they walked, they began to sing, but the songs were unfamiliar to Val.

The waters were calm, the current only underneath the surface and even then broken by the docks. It smelled strongly of grasses and summer, and the air felt extra humid here. The maidens lined up on the riverbank, nudging each other and giggling lightly, hushed conversation among them as the whole town pressed on behind. Avgusta stood on the dock, facing the people.

“It is here, as every year, we stand and pray to Fauna to show us the truth, in her light and divinity - reveal to us the daughter that will gift us a golden sun!” She cried.

Somewhere in the crowd, Marat tensed. This was the ceremony that the River Cities had kept a great secret from the rest of the world.

“Lower your wreaths onto the waters and allow them to be carried or drowned! Those who make it down the river atop the waters will be crowned with them once more - as Golden Daughters!”

Val set hers down in the water, girls crowding each other but minding not to let the flowers touch. They did this carefully, as if afraid to see it sink or float - Val was not sure which they would prefer.

Avgusta and the First Matrons from the crowd stepped forward to the river bank as all the maidens stood. The women walked downriver, watching the wreaths float.

It only took a moment for a Matron to call out a name.

Then, another further down.

And another.

Another.

Val looked around as girls whose names were called turned and walked to their loved ones in the audience. It took only two minutes for Val and two others to remain.

A cheer went up again, but it roared and spread this time and did not seem to die down.

The All-Mother and the First Matrons gathered around them, kissing them on the cheeks and squeezing their hands.

The sun was setting, and fireflies filled the air. The bonfire smoke rose high, and everywhere, the chatter rang with excitement and anticipation.

Val was not allowed to part with the All-Mother, nor were the other girls.

On this night, the sun did not set until deep into the hour.

The two remaining girls and Val sat with their hands in their lap.

She looked across the people, trying to find Marat, but could not.

“The time of Fauna’s Day is almost passed, so we pray our final prayer!” Avgusta’s voice rang out as she stepped up to them. “And each must choose with whom to walk the next day and their last.”

The two next to Val stood, and she followed suit. An especially pretty green eyed girl stood to her right, and Val thought she saw her glare.

The All-Mother approached first the girl on Val’s left, and she heard the green eyed girl gasp.

“Choose,” Avgusta said, placing a hand on the other girl.

“Andrey.” The girl said, and from the crowd, a young man with a lit-up smile came forward, his strides wide. He stepped up to her, taking her by the hand and turning to the people.

The All-Mother moved to Val.

“Choose.”

Her eyes searched, but again, she could not see him.

“Marat,” Val said, and to her relief, he stepped forward. The expression on his face was puzzling, and she thought she saw his eyes dart to someone else. He took her by the hand and stood next to her, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Choose.”

No answer came. The green-eyed girl stared ahead silently, her jaw clenched. The All-Mother frowned.

“Choose, my dear.”

“Kirill.” She said with disdain, and there was no movement in the crowd momentarily. And then, the most confused and hesitant youth made his way forward, and sheepishly stood next to the girl.

“I give these names to the gods. May they forever be yoked to one another and bring us many daughters!” Avgusta threw her hands up, and men stepped forward to the effigy, each with something thin in their hand. Val recognized the sparkle of a firestarter feather. Each mouthed something, and the flames roared to life.

“Emel and Andrey!” Applause, yells, their families being the loudest of all.

“Valeria and Marat!” Both were surprised that the applause for them had been as loud, if not louder. Marat heard one man’s voice in the crowd and saw Khaleel shouting words of approval and clapping his hands.

“Asha and Kirill!” In the same breath, Marat saw Khaleel’s face darken. The people cheered, but he did not.

They were made to kneel, the fire almost unbearably hot at their backs.

The All-Mother came to each, handing them a small clay bowl filled with a viscous liquid smelling of figs and cinnamon.

Marat frowned, fool him twice.

He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of the crowd, the heat of the fire, and the flickering of shadows away from the flames. He took in the smell. The overwhelming fig gave way to grassiness and bitters. He caught the peppery smell of chasteberries, evening primrose, and the butterscotch-like scent of maca. But there was something else too. The smell was almost damp, swampy, with a hint of death.

Marat smiled despite himself. He’d know it anywhere, and it was ground watermerchant bones. The clever shrews disguised a powerful aphrodisiac and an enhancer of virility into the fig wine.

Fauna’s fertility indeed.

Val watched him as he hesitated, smelling the liquid. But then the slightest smile appeared on his face, and he tipped the cup back fully, so she did, too.