Chapter 31: The River

With Juolo now back with Berin, Glavino, Erini and Rini, they begin their journey home. Berin, with his heart torn, wanders down to the river.

The River

The Vergaran and Shuiku contingency left the hut when the moon was at its peak and ventured west toward the farmland area of Irk.

“If we follow the river, we are certain to reach the coastline,” said Nunizhu.

“What shall we do when we arrive there?” asked Berin.

“I know not.”

It is fine. This odyssey has been concocted as we journey.”

Early that morning, before the sun rose, they made their camp, assuming they were far enough away from Irinfa and the city of Zoar. They caught and cooked some loach over a twinkling fire and soon settled down for a few hours’ sleep until the sun beckoned above the horizon. Berin collected the cooking equipment and walked to the still river to clean them of the loach bones. He looked upstream to see the Shuiku men. They surprisingly were carrying the body of Shaodeng. In their tradition, they would throw the bodies of the fallen into the ocean.

I remember seeing this after our battle with the Bacana.

He brought his fingers to his nostrils. The vague scent of lavender still lingered from the cold touch of Shaodeng’s lifeless body. Berin now watched as they grieved Shaodeng’s life and threw him into the river. As the body sank below the surface, they began to sing a solemn tune, one that caused Berin’s bones to chill. A good man, a faithful man was lost. Though Berin had only known him for a time, he would never forget him. He feared the loaches might nibble at his body as the Shuiku had nibbled at the loach earlier.

As Berin knelt by the river, he released a lengthy grunt, almost a moan. He had found his wife, liberated her, but she did not know him.

A noise from behind startled Berin out of his self pity. He turned to find Juolo standing there. Berin was too tired to reason with her; he simply turned back to his cleaning. That was when his hand brushed past the beaded necklace of Juolo still attached to his belt. Leaving the cleaning, he dried his hands on his sleeves. Clutching the necklace in his hands, Berin turned back to Juolo.

“Do you really not remember these?” he asked as he slowly, like a butterfly unfolding its wings for the first time, uncurled his hands.

Juolo stared for a moment, then shook her head slowly.

“Not that I know.”

She reached out her hand, brushing her fingertips along the beads. Her fingers touched Berin’s. She stopped, looking intently into his eyes, not as though she was seeking his soul, but searching into her own for the connection, the husband and wife bond, as lovers.

Berin noticed the scar on her neck.

“Do you remember how that came to be?” he whispered, pointing to the oddly-shaped mark.

“No.”

“You received that on the vero we met. You were riding in the forest near Ariquemes when you were unhorsed. You landed on a wayward branch and scratched your neck. I was nearby and heard you scream.”

“You saved my life?”

“No. It was only a scratch. We thought a boar was chasing us. It turned out to be a large dog. No, actually, from that moment onwards, you saved mine.”

“How?”

“I was ready to die. I had lived a life of constant fear, of running from the authorities. I wanted it to end. Then I found you. Your path crossed mine. You gave me back my breath, my reason for living, my purpose.”

Juolo retreated her hands and looked away, gazing up at the stars. Berin shed a tear, wishing deeply she would return to reality, but knowing this would never happen. He turned back to the cleaning.

Without warning, Berin felt her hand squeeze his right shoulder. Her other hand caressed his neck.

“Seeing you tonight reminds me of the night I was taken from you. We had cooked something delicious. Boar, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

“We talked about the stars, how Rini was learning the way of the skies. We talked about what Melchiorre the storyteller had told us.’ Juolo gulped air before continuing. ‘You are my husband.”

Berin closed his eyes, letting the whisper awash through every hair on his skin.

“Oh, Juolo.”

“I am struggling to remember the details.”

“I know. It will come.”

“But it is so difficult.”

Berin nodded in agreement.

I will have to win her heart all over again.

He was prepared to, that was certain. He had won her heart once before.

I can do it again. It will not be easy, though.

“I think I know something that will help,” said Juolo quietly.

“What?” he asked as he rose and turned to face her.

“This,” she sighed as she clasped his face and passionately kissed him. Berin’s emotion washed up and out of his body, into the lips of Juolo. There was something in their kiss, perhaps his taste, perhaps his scent. It triggered Juolo back to a greater sense of reality.

“Oh, Ber’in,” she said, the inflection included in the saying of his name that only she knew how to say properly. He held her tight, their bond reconnected as their two souls soared like eagles into the dawn-lit sky.

“My husband, I love you.”

“I love you too, Juolo. Welcome back.”