could break.
The knots ripped her again. She shut her eyes, in a state of ecstatic anguish, and soaring beyond pain, she did not feel the next bite of the leather teeth.
And then it was over, and she knew she’d passed her trial when the women began to ululate. They cupped their hands at the corners of their mouths and faced the valley, announcing Quinette’s initiation. They faced the cavern, their tongues flicking between half-open lips, the wavering shrieks echoing back, as if spirits of the ancestors were answering.
SHE TOOK ALMOST an entire morning to prepare for Michael’s return, darkening her eyes with kohl, putting on gold hoop earrings and then the dress he had given her. Her notion was to transform herself from a plain prairie flower into a brilliant and irresistible African orchid, but as she waited in the courtyard, she wondered if she’d succeeded only in making herself look ridiculous. Her fears were dispelled when he came into the courtyard, dusty from his journey, and stood gazing at her with admiration. “How much I have missed you. I was a very bad officer at the conference. All I could think of was you and the moment when I could do this.” As if to show that his military duties were a distant second to her, he flung his canvas map case aside and covered her with kisses. “Oh my, oh my,” he murmured, then pulled her inside and tugged at her sleeves. “You look so very beautiful in this, it’s a pity to take it off.”
As he went to draw it over her head, he touched the tender lacerations on her back. She gave a short gasp and flinched.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You are hurt? What is it?”
“I was going to tell you,” she said, then turned around and, gathering the hem, pulled the dress past her waist.
“You didn’t . . . ?” he began.
She faced him, the dress falling over her. “Yes, I did. Day before yesterday.”
“I told you before that you didn’t have to prove a thing. It wasn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it was. I had something to prove to myself.”
“What?”
“That I do belong here.”
“And did you?”
“I hope so. Almost everyone has been wonderful. They’ve made me feel welcome.”
“Almost everyone, but not Kasli,” Michael said. “You had this done to yourself because of him?”
“No, for myself.”
He sat on the bed and motioned for her to sit beside him. “I have ordered him to stand with me at our wedding.”
“Why?” she asked, trying not to sound upset. It was his prerogative to choose his best man, but she thought he should have consulted her first.
“To show him that I mean business,” Michael replied serenely. He was always serene when he made a decision; he never doubted himself, a trait she found attractive but not in this instance. “I want him to be a part of this marriage, whether he likes it or not.”
“But he’s a Muslim!” she said. “The minister is going to ask if anyone has a reason why we shouldn’t be married. Suppose he says something? That would be awful.”
“He won’t. I have had a good talk with him. I have reminded him that he is second in command.”
“Michael, Kasli is one subject I don’t want to talk about. He’s censored. I’m too happy, and I don’t want anything to spoil it.”
“Then let us,” he said with a grin, “choose the day.”
QUINETTE WONDERED HOW many women had made their wedding arrangements over a two-way radio. After several tries she got through to Fitz, who talked to Malachy, who contacted Barrett, who replied via the same channels that he would be delighted to officiate.
He arrived two days ahead of the scheduled date, with his Nuban wife. She was from New Tourom, and the villagers greeted her as if she were a celebrity, paying a visit to her old hometown. The sight of the runty Barrett beside his six-foot ebony-skinned spouse encouraged Quinette. If such a pair, mismatched in ways more profound than race and stature, could make a success of their marriage, then surely she and Michael could.
After he recovered from the hike from the airstrip, Barrett quizzed the bride and groom to assure himself that they knew what they were getting into, then ran them through a rehearsal with Ulrika, who was to be Quinette’s maid of honor, and with Kasli, who looked as if he were going to an execution. Quinette took a perverse pleasure in his discomfort.
Following Nuban custom, she spent the night before the wedding in