As they walked through Korek town, pushing deeper into the rich tapestry of multicoloured tents and brilliantly burning fires, Celeste paid keen attention to the people around her. She noticed a unique thing, clasps of bone or wood, tying off the ends of braids on many of the women's hair. Some women had many, others few. No children seemed to have any. It was only grown women who wore them. Older women seemed to have more than younger, but that didn't always seem to be a rule. She even remembered the Ga'Na having more than a few herself.
The oddity held her attention, she had heard of the decorative Khazimi beard clasps, but those tended to be forged of precious metals and were purely aesthetic. What did these, carved of bone and wood, symbolize? Celeste, looked to her guides, the leader of whom seemed to have a strong grasp of Terminian language, hoping he might enlighten her.
“Excuse me, master Korek.” Celeste called out, pushing past Kriss to the men that led them. “I have a question.” The sounds of groans behind her told her what her sisters and Vallerian thought of this, but Celeste was already growing tired of their complaints today.
Catching up, the older man turned back to her and cocked an eyebrow.
“Hmm?” he asked. Or, more accurately, he grunted in a semi-questioning manner.
“The clasps, what are they for?” Celeste asked. The man stared back blankly. “The...” She thought on how to explain. Grabbing several locks of her hair, she made a clasping motion with her hand. “Clasps, bone or wood on hair. Your nara wear them.” Celeste clarified, using the Korek word for women she had picked up from her books.
The older man nodded understandingly, then chuckled. “Nara no wear. Too young, no child. Naka and more old only.” He explained. Celeste blinked for a second, then understood. Nara must mean girl not woman. A simple mistake, one she wasn't surprised had been made in those books.
“But what do they mean? What is their purpose?” Celeste asked, eyeing one as they passed a mother feeding her newborn from breast. She was young, and only had a single clasp in her hair.
“Child.” He explained. “One for child, one for child's child. If luck? One for child's child's child.” he said. “Understand?” He paused to look for her confirmation. Celeste nodded. They represented a woman's progeny. A visual sign of fertility? They seemed to value the wisdom of mother’s highly, so much so that the women were expected to wear it upon their hair? Celeste smiled at the thought of that, leadership through those most gifted by Ethinia, what a wonderful tradition.
“Here.” The large man finally stopped, pointing to a large leather tent separate from the others, yet accessible from all sides. It was taller and wider than any other tent she had seen, and the wooden stakes that held it up, at least from outside, were densely carved with complex patterns of animals and people. Smaller carvings of wood and bone seemed to hang from every place that could be used to hang, and the artistry involved in each was incredible, even compared to some Sherya work she had seen.
“Thank you master Korek.” Celeste placed a hand on his shoulder and he straightened at her touch. He seemed a proud man, not arrogant, proud. Celeste returned her attention the tent of the Ga'Na.
Around the leather tent were dozens of small beds of plants, raised above with short rock walls it formed a garden. Though no pretty flowers adorned this garden, Celeste felt a sense of camaraderie with the Ga'Na at the sight of these plants. From the Wolfs-wart root for upset stomachs to the leatherleaf one gnawed on for headaches, each of the plants here had some sort of medicinal use. It was a well tended garden, small cuttings taken where needed, but never enough to damage a plant.
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Looking back, the tall men stood around them, waiting for her to go in.
“Come on now.” She told her group. “No point in waiting outside.” Celeste motioned for everyone to follow her into the tent, and Arabella mumbled something about how they could be eating some nice cabbage soup right now.
Pushing into the tent behind Arabella, Valleresa and Vallerian, Celeste found the inside much nicer than she would have expected. A light smoke filled the room, with it the gentle fragrance of burning cherry wood and sage a treat to Celeste's senses. Situated around the floor of the room were dozens of rough canvas cushions, bits of straw poking out of the thick, scratchy fabric. Half a dozen large furs from as many different animals were atop many of those cushions, obviously meant to comfort from the rougher cloth used on them. In one corner of the room stood a small work bench with dozens of leather pouches, a mortar and pestle, and at least a hundred different bushels of dried plants hanging around it. The workspace of a healer, Celeste noted.
Her eyes eventually found their way to the fire pit at the centre of the tent, a small hole with soft furs situated around it. Sitting in front of it sat two women, one Celeste knew as the Ga'Na, the other a younger girl she didn't recognize. Looking at the Ga'Na now, Celeste gazed in amazement at the woman's hair. At least two dozen wood and bone clasps hung upon her many braids, creating a light chiming noise with every move of her head. In stark contrast to how she had looked the other day, the Ga'Na now had a calm expression, a grandmotherly softness to the wrinkles that outlined her features. She wore a loose woollen dress and sat cross legged in front of the fire. Draped around her shoulders she wore a white fur wrap, a practical, if somewhat distasteful sight for Celeste.
The young Korek woman, in contrast, wore a simple linen skirt beneath a leather vest with some light fur trim, her strong muscular arms bare. She was a pretty though with her large nearly black-brown eyes that gave her a youthful appearance. With no under clothing beneath the vest, Celeste felt herself blush at the sight of the young woman's near bare chest. Thankfully the woman's long black, unbraided, and unclasped hair fell over much of it, providing some modesty. Don't judge, Celeste reminded herself, their culture is different, their values different, not wrong. In contrast, Celeste’s own silk shift that rose to her neck actually felt a bit stuffy, she realized. Perhaps it was the smoke and heat of the fire.
“You must be child healer.” The young woman spoke, she had a strong husky voice. Not unfeminine, but far from the cultivated songbird tones of the Sherya noblewomen who visited the temple. “The Ga'Na has been look for you long. Please, sit.” The young woman motioned to the fur covered earth around the fire.
Celeste sat down and her sisters followed suit. She noticed Kriss stood by the tent flap, obviously paying more attention to the sounds from outside than within. He could be so stern when they were out of Gardinal's home.
“Goka Tek Torak!” The Ga'Na shouted suddenly, waving her hand at Vallerian in an aggressive manner. Looking between the two women, Celeste saw the younger one grow flustered.
“I, sorry. The Ga'Na means to say not him.” she shakes her head. “Mistake mine. I should have said.” The pretty young woman apologized.
“Oh, of course.” Celeste responded.
“What?” Vallerian asked, half seated with a look of annoyance on his face.
“You must leave, Fereni man. Both must.” She clarified. “This is business of woman, not man.”
“Her Radi... The Healing Child's safety is our business.” Kriss chimed in from the tent flap. “We can't just leave her.”
“It is the way of the covenant.” The young woman tried to empathize. “It is not of you.”
“Kriss, Vallerian. Please do as they say. We will be safe with these women, I assure you.” Celeste calmed the men down.
“I don't want the big guy getting angry at me if you get hurt.” Vallerian responded referring to Gardinal.
“Oh just go away you two.” Valleresa snapped. “Do you really think these two are some big danger to us?” Valleresa sniffed, as she motioned towards the two women sitting serenely on their pile of furs. With a few grumbles from Vallerian, both men began to move out of the tent.
“If I hear a noise, we're both tearing our way in here.” Kriss explained. Celeste gave them a conciliatory look, a gesture ruined by Valleresa and Arabella's juvenile smirks.