Chapter 3: Do Me That Honor
#4 of Fox Hunt
Do Me That Honor
Chapter 3
Ukudlala spent the entire story fire sending Aina looks of longing, attempting to rest his cheek on his fist only to miss, blushing when his elbow slipped off his knee . . . and other such boyish and goofy exercises.
Aina looked steadily at her father, determined to ignore Ukudlala - as well Nhlahla, who sat at her side, watching the young male's antics and passing Aina amused smiles.
Nhlahla was Ukudlala's twenty-year-old sister. Sparkly-eyed, mischievous, and full of boundless energy, it was said that she brought life wherever she passed, hips and tail swaying, lashes fluttering playfully. She was always laughing, always smiling, and she was of such beauty that she drew the stares of males at every clan gathering. But much like Aina, Nhlahla had never married.
Aina was a solitary beast and thus there were few foxes she would have called Friend. Nhlahla was one of them. She and vixen sat side by side on a bench together, among the crowds of females, warriors, elderly foxes, and cubs. Only females were permitted to sit near the princess, and so Aina and Nhlahla were surrounded by red cleavage and lovely naked legs in tight deerskin dresses and beaded shawls.
"Look at Uku," Nhlahla whispered to Aina. "It's as if no one else is even here!"
Aina refused to look at Ukudlala, though she knew Nhlahla's words were true: she could feel the burn of Ukudlala's stare eating a hole through her. The red foxes crowded around the flickering blue flames of the story fire, mothers holding cubs, strong warriors and hunters clutching spears or wearing bows, bored adolescents and eager cubs, all peering at Thandanani as he waved his paws over the flames, conjuring shapes to oo and ah them.
Aina smiled, thinking that her father looked magnificent. As was tradition, he wore a shrouded robe with long, flared sleeves that waved impressively with his every dramatic gesture. He also wore a blue mask with a long white beak, which glinted in the gloom and in the eyes of astonished children. To finish the costume, a headdress of beautiful blue feathers spiraled from Thandanani's crown in an impressive spray. His eyes glinted behind the mask as his voice rose above the hush.
". . . and Fox," Thandanani said in a grand voice, "knew she could only escape if she offered Hound the bone of her tastiest friend. She promised to return with the bone the next day, if only the hound would spare her. The dog agreed, believing he would simply trick the fox, taking both her and the bone. The next day, however, the dog returned to find the bone and no fox beside a pool of water which had not been there the night before. . . ."
Thandanani paused, and in the silence, he looked at his daughter.
Aina groaned inside, wishing she could just slip away, perhaps go and see old Hluphizwe, who never attended the story fires. But she looked at her father, and she knew he would be very unhappy with her if she walked out. Tonight's story was meant to curb her curiosity about the hounds. Tonight, he was speaking directly to her.
Everyone looked at the Elder, waiting, breath bated. The oldest foxes (who had heard the story before) watched the younger ones in amusement. The cubs had their mouths hanging open.
"But what HAPPENED!" squeaked a little girl.
The girl's mother scolded her, but the clan broke out laughing.
Aina could see her father's eyes twinkling behind the mask when he looked at the little girl. He pointed at her and said triumphantly, "Why, little Ingani, the dog snatched the bone up! And very proud of himself he was, too. He strutted up and down in circles, chest puffed out!"
Aina held back a laugh when her father stuck out his thin chest and mimicked a proud strut. Several little children covered their mouths and giggled, and even a few bored teens laughed. Thandanani waved his paws either side his mask and bobbed his head like a turkey. The children laughed harder and their parents smiled. Everyone was laughing and at their ease.
Seeing her clan so cheerful, Aina couldn't help but smile as well. But she caught Nhlahla looking at her and stopped smiling at once. Her friend elbowed her.
"Such a pretty smile hidden behind such a cold mask," Nhlahla scolded her.
Determined to remain expressionless, Aina focused on her father. "If I smile," she said from the corner of her mouth, "then every male will come to me after the story fire, thinking I am in a pleasant mood, requesting to walk me home." A request to walk a female home was always a request to begin the honor of courting her.
"So you pretend to be angry all the time?" Nhlahla said, looking very amused by her friend's predicament as she watched Thandanani's gestures.
Aina's mouth fell open in mild surprise. "I look angry?" She flattened her ears, trying not to look crestfallen. "I was going for stoic . . ."
Nhlahla snorted. "Even stoic is afraid of you. . . ." Her eyes went to Ukudlala, who was watching Aina dreamily. "But Baby Ballo isn't. Poor fool."
"Ballo" meant Brother in their language. Aina had grown up hearing Nhlahla screaming at the top of her lungs, "BALLO! SUPPER!" She and her brother lived in a burrow not far from Aina and her father's. It was how the siblings had come to know the princess. Most of the clan burrows were so far apart that the youth rarely saw the elder and princess outside clan gatherings. Even now, as Thandanani finished his story, some of the children stopped listening to stare, open mouthed, at Aina. But unlike Ukudlala, they always went back to staring at the elder.
"Little did the hound know that the fox was watching from the trees," said Thandanani, "laughing at him and his foolish pride. The hound stopped. And for the first time, he saw himself in the water's mirror. He thought it was another dog with a bigger bone and opened his mouth to snarl - dropping the bone in the water!"
One of the smallest cubs giggled and tossed a bone at the high ceiling. It came down on the blue fire, and for a moment, blue sparked white. As the white flames settled, Thandanani whispered dramatically, "The hound dove after the bone and became trapped in a sinkhole hidden under the pool. As he slowly slipped away, his frightened eyes saw the fox in her tree. 'You have won this day,' he said to her. The vixen smiled. And walked away."
Thandanani lowered his face and curled up into a heap. Several children gasped when he disappeared in a puff of smoke. The little ones clapped their paws as the adults slowly rose and began to trickle up the tunnels and deep passages of the underground village.
Ukudlala stood as if he would leave as well. Aina prayed that he would. He looked as if he wanted to walk her home, and she was going to flat-out say no. She was relieved when another young male pulled him into a conversation.
Aina was rising from her seat when Nhlahla cleared her throat awkwardly. "I . . . never did thank you and your father for saving Uku today."
Aina smiled slowly. "No. You didn't."
Nhlahla's throat tensed and Aina almost laughed: it had always been difficult for her to accept help. Nhlahla was insecure about her magical abilities and hated it anytime she failed in the duty of protecting her own. It was how she became known as Nhlahla the Lucky. One day, she grew tired of clumsy failure and decided to "make her own luck."
Hearing the amusement in Aina's voice, Nhlahla glanced at her irritably. "I would have saved him myself!"
"You would have," Aina agreed quietly - not because she believed it, but because she hated arguing.
Nhlahla frowned and nodded. "Damn right, I would have." Her lip trembled, and Aina knew she was thinking of her parents, who had been taken by foxhounds only years before. Aina took Nhlahla's paw and squeezed softly. The younger girl's lashes fluttered, and Aina let go.
Aina cleared her throat. "I'd better get going," she said, "before your brother asks to walk me home."
"I would like to walk you home, Princess," Nhlahla whispered. She blushed a little but held Aina's startled eyes. "Will you do me that honor?"
Aina's eyes warmed. "Yes."