chapter 21

I felt the tapping of the needle and closed my eyes as I tried to bear the pain. The stinging was intense and, unlike my previous experience of being tattooed, this time I had nothing to numb me. The lines descended from lip to chin, and my skin seemed to swell and sensitise. Each new line seemed to hurt more than the last and by the time that she worked her ink into my lips I was gritting my teeth to hold in my desire to scream out my agony. I felt betrayed again; my face permanently disfigured to please Dejax's desire to turn me into some bride from a folk tale. And all the time I was aware that a camera was pointing at me, recording every moment of this torture.

Finally, the tattooing was complete. I felt my face being cleansed and glanced at the cloth, which was discoloured with ink and blood. When all of the excess ink had been wiped away I felt some leaves being pressed over the wounded skin. It initially made the skin burn but within moments I felt a coolness and the stinging decreased.

The leaves were peeled away and an ointment was spread across my lips and chin. An old nun now approached and gestured for me to stand.

I approached Dejax and at a sign prostrated myself before her (she was sat in a throne-like chair of black wood, set with large coloured stones). The nun chanted a list of my duties as a wife (again using such archaic language that it was almost unintelligible). I indicated my obeisance by rising and prostrating myself again. Some of the lists took more than ten minutes to announce.

Finally I was told to kneel. Dejax rose from her chair and a young girl approached bearing a cushion. From the cushion Dejax lifted a large set of shears. She opened them and slid them across my cheek. I felt nausea as I realised that my new status would be sealed with the cutting of my hair. I felt the blades saw into the thick braid. It wasn't just my hair, but Hallena's too being cut, and I felt violently emotional as I realised that another link to my beloved Hallena was literally being severed.

The cutting took a long time, since the braid was so thick. Finally it was laid on the cushion which had borne the shears, and Dejax now cropped the long hair from the right side of my head. My head felt light and bare without my long hair. I was unsteady as Dejax helped me to my feet and pledged her eternal loyalty to me. The nun made a long pronouncement and finally we were joined in marriage. Dejax pressed her lips to mine and the entire assembly made a rhythmic chanting to celebrate our union.



I was in a state of alarm as I retreated to a private room behind the hall. I lifted my hand to feel hacked short hair above my bald nape. I saw a mirror and rushed over. I saw that my chin was marked with thick black filigree, the entire area below my mouth tattooed from lip to jaw.

And my lips too, they were blackened: the entire outline was marked with a heavy line and the inner surface was dotted with ornamental forms, seemingly related to some ancient form of the alphabet. Dejax followed me to the mirror.

"Don't cry, Minanna Xenia," she said firmly, her words no consolation but rather a warning. "You look beautiful. I will make you my wife fully once our feast is complete. You're the most beautiful woman in Jertul now, as befits someone who is to be my consort. Now your behaviour must match your physical perfection." She kissed me with a furious passion, pressing her lips to mine, which were so tender from the abuse of tattooing. "You'll dress for the feast and Kadax will attend to your hair."

"Thank you, Minanna Dejax," I said. I felt more like her servant than her equal now, and I knew this was exactly as she intended our relationship to be.

I was taken to a small room where Felashi was waiting. She smiled at me humbly and helped me from my heavy robes. Kadax entered and told me to sit.

The remains of Hallena's hair were unpicked from mine, the glue eased free and the braiding unwound. I watched in a mirror, appalled by the state of my hair. It was untidily chopped and terribly short. Once the extensions were all gone Kadax trimmed my own hair to a neat line, but it was absurdly short, more than half way up my ears. I would have preferred to see it shaved entirely. It looked like some strange masculine style, the bare front seeming more than ever to be a result of male pattern baldness.

Kadax now separated a narrow strip of hair around the perimeter of my entire scalp. She braided it tightly, as close as possible to my head. Then Felashi assisted her, holding a strip of embroidered red satin to my head, which Kadax carefully stitched to the braided hair. She pulled the thread tight, making me grimace as it pulled at my scalp.

Soon all of my dark curls had been contained within the satin. It bulged out like a horseshoe shaped cushion about my plucked scalp. It was strange and medieval, yet I had to admit, it was preferable to seeing my shorn hair, but less than comfortable. I wondered if now my hair would be always hidden beneath a headdress of this type.

I was dressed in a heavy white gown with elaborate red ornaments, my feet bound into white leather boots. Kadax now applied thick kohl around my eyes and looked me over, nodding her satisfaction. I entered the feasting hall and blushed as I heard gasps and a spontaneous ripple of applause. I took my place at Dejax's side, feeling uncomfortable as I observed the cameras were still present.

Dejax had once more adopted the self-satisfied half smile she'd affected throughout the earlier ceremony. There were numerous speeches made by various members of my new family, almost unintelligible to me because of the formal version of Jertulian used. Each ended with a toast and I drank more than was necessary, eager to still my anxiety.

The feast proper began, and numerous courses were supplied. I ate everything that was laid before me, as was expected of a Jertulian lady. I felt more alone than ever, my last ties with my previous existence now, my appearance permanently altered so profoundly that I knew I could never be accepted again in my homeland, yet I felt that my acceptance into Jertulian society was entirely superficial, that my presence here was only tolerated because of my compliance in looking and behaving as my wife demanded. My inner self was buried beneath a body that felt alien to me.

The guests began to dance, a slow heavy folk dance that appeared to be popular amongst more traditionally-minded Jertulians, but it appeared that the married couple didn't join in. I was a passive observer in everything. I had become expert in passivity, the greatest virtue a lady like me could possess. By the end of the feast, as the guests started to disperse, I was drunk, pleased to feel the numbness that the wine had given me. I had to be helped to stand and was supported to walk out of the hall by Dejax. We went to a small room where I realised that we would be interviewed for TV.

My horror of embarrassing myself was proved to be unfounded. All of the questions were answered by Dejax. She spoke for me, so that even questions asked of me were answered confidently by my new spouse. I heard that I was delighted to be Dejax's wife, that I loved Jertul and had become very patriotic, that it made me feel a sense of pride which I'd never experienced for the land of my birth. I listened and looked modestly at Dejax, my features a perfect mask of blankness, the soft face I'd been told so often was necessary for a decorous lady.

The presenter, an overly chatty middle aged man, repeatedly praised my beauty. Dejax ended the interview by saying that it was a cause of shame to her that so many young woman in Jertul had turned away from tradition and that she hoped they would be helped to finding the true path by observing my ways. "Xenia is an outsider, yet has perfected her status as a Jertulian lady. I fervently wish that our education system can adapt to instil not just national pride in our youth, but a revival of tradition."



We spent the night in an apartment within the convent. Dejax was forceful with me, stripping me naked and forcing me onto the bed. I was compliant with her every demand. She teased me about my tattooed face, told me that she loved that I looked bald. I knew she was testing me, that I had to show no reaction to her insults, maintain my indifferent expression. She became aroused so intensely that there seemed something demonic about her. She equipped herself with a strap-on and penetrated me roughly, tearing my reconstructed hymen, so painfully that despite my greatest resolve I couldn't help but cry out.

"You're mine now, body and soul," she said. "Don't think I don't know what went on between you and Hallena. If that ever happens again, if you even feel a moment of attraction to another you'll be sent to a nunnery for the rest of your days. The rest of your little mop of hair will be shaved and your tattoo will be completed." She traced her fingers over the still healing design on the front of my head. "I don't think you could live like that. Locked up in your little cell with just a few books of Munk to study."

"Please, Dejax, I'm sorry. I was weak and confused. I'm your wife, and I meant all of my promises to you. Please let's start afresh. We have our entire lives together now. I love you."