I walked over to the house and looked in, too, and saw a bare room with a freshly-swept floor of beaten-earth and a single table against one wall. Sydoni stood in the centre of the room holding a length of cloth to her body as another woman tucked it up here and there around her. Meanwhile, a third woman, perhaps the mother of the first, sat at a loom in the corner directing this activity; and all three were chattering away at the same time in Greek, oblivious to all else.
Moving into the doorway, I rapped on the doorpost with my knuckles, and Sydoni looked up, saw me, and smiled. It was a smile of recognition and welcome, but also of supreme and unassailable confidence-a woman secure in her domain, completely at ease allowing me a glimpse of it.
'The provisions are loaded, and we are ready to leave,' I told her.
'In a moment,' she said, and resumed her appraisal of the cloth, ignoring me until she had concluded her business. She passed the cloth back to the woman, who folded it carefully, tied it with a length of rag, and placed it on a bare shelf high up on the wall, then handed Sydoni what appeared to be a length of carved willow wrapped in coarse white cloth.
Sydoni then took her leave. The two women followed her out of the house and bade her farewell, each kissing her on both cheeks. We started off across the square, and the elder woman called to one of the young girls outside the house who fell in behind us. 'We are to have an escort,' I said. When Sydoni did not answer, I pointed to the cloth-wrapped stick. 'What have you there?'
'This?' she said almost absently. 'Watch.'
Taking the carved end of the slender rod, she lightly shook out the cloth to reveal a wooden ring which had been hidden in the folds of the cloth. Grasping this ring, she slid it up along the length of the rod; as she did so, the most remarkable thing happened. The thin cloth blossomed out into a large round disc and stretched itself across a cunning latticework of split cane. She fixed the ring somehow and the cloth remained taut.
'What is it?' I said, regarding the strange sail-like object.
Sydoni took one look at my astonished expression and laughed out loud. The sound was magic-a warmly female sound, full of expression and gaiety, gently superior, but lacking any hint of scorn or ridicule. 'Have you never seen a sunshade?' she laughed.
'A sunshade,' I repeated, happy to be the fool if it provoked such a delightful sound. 'Is that what it is?'
Still laughing, she asked, 'What do the women of your land use when they travel about?'
'Nothing,' I replied.
'Then how,' Sydoni demanded in disbelief, 'do they keep the hot sun from wrinkling their skin and making them old before their time?'
'So rarely does the sun shine,' I replied, 'people welcome it rather than hide from it.'
'Are you saying the sun never shines?' She looked at me askance. 'I do not believe you.'
'Truly,' I insisted. 'When the men and women of Scotland see the sun it is a cause for celebration. No one would think of shielding themselves from its warmth and light.'
'Then I hope I never go there,' she replied emphatically. 'It sounds a dark and dismal place.'
Inexplicably, her words were like a stab in the heart; I felt a sharp pang of regret for having spoken of my homeland in such a way as to invite her disdain. 'How is this sun device employed?' I asked.
'Like this,' she said, raising the slender rod and resting it lightly on her shoulder. Her face, neck, and shoulders were now cast into the shadow of the disc-shaped shade. 'See?'
'Clever,' I allowed. 'Why not just wear a hat?'
Since coming to Outremer, I had seen many wide-brimmed hats made of stripped reed or woven straw. They seemed more than able to provide the service of a sunshade. 'Peasants wear hats,' Sydoni replied. 'Here, try it,' she said, handing the thing to me.
I did as I had seen her do. The sight of a foreign man using a sunshade proved too much for our young escort, who was promptly seized by a fit of giggles and laughed all the way to the boat. I returned the object to Sydoni, who walked merrily beside me, spinning the circle of cloth and humming lightly. For the second time in as many days, I luxuriated in the unexpected intimacy of her cheerful companionship.
Upon arriving at the boat, Sydoni informed her father that she had purchased a mantle to be made by one of the women in the village and instructed him to pay the girl, who would take the money back to her mother. Yordanus counted a few silver coins into the girl's hand. 'And for the sunshade, too,' she said, and he tossed in a few more.
Then, under the watchful eyes of the people of Marionis, we climbed into the boats and began the slow, easy voyage up river to Mamistra. Padraig and I shared the rowing chores with the two men from the village, relieving them when they began to tire. In this way, we worked our way along the winding river course. We spent the first night on a gravel shingle in the middle of the river with nothing overhead but the star-laden sky.
The second night we camped in a grove of fig trees planted beside the river and, as the sun went down on the third day we arrived at Mamistra. Leaving Padraig and Roupen to help the boatmen unload the boats, Yordanus and I went into the town early the next morning to search out his horse-trading acquaintance.
Along the way, we stopped a farmer with a piglet under his arm and asked him if he knew of anyone thereabouts who raised or traded in horses. The farmer squinted his eyes, scratched a bristly jaw, shifted the piglet from one arm to the other, and at last said he might have heard of such a man. When Yordanus presented him with a silver denarius for his trouble, the farmer broke into a wide toothless grin and said, that, yes, he remembered now, the man he was thinking of was called Nurmal.
'Yes! The very fellow I was hoping to find. Where does he live?'
'I cannot say,' answered the farmer. 'If I ever heard where he lived, I do not remember now.'
Yordanus plucked out two more denarii and placed them in the farmer's rough palm. 'Does this help your memory?'
'No, my lord,' replied the farmer, eyeing the silver sadly. 'I still do not know where he lives, but I know where you can find him.'
'Tell me,' said Yordanus, 'and you can keep the silver.'
'There is a mill over there -' the farmer pointed beyond the town to a knoll surmounted by a windmill. 'He buys grain and fodder there on market days.' Hefting his pig, he said, 'Today is the market.'
We thanked the toothless fellow and sent him on his way rejoicing in his unexpected wealth. The mill was further than it first appeared, and it took us some time to walk up the long, rocky slope. Only when we got to the top did we see that there was a road leading up from the other side. Nevertheless, we found a goat track and followed it, arriving at the mill from behind. The miller was a gruff man of few words, but more of Yordanus' silver loosened his tongue and we learned that Nurmal had not been there yet, but was expected some time during the day.
'I will wait here for Nurmal,' Yordanus suggested. 'You go back and tell the others we have found our man. Nurmal and I will join you at the river.'
I did not like leaving him, but as I was walking from the yard, the miller's wife brought him out a bowl of milk to drink. I left him sitting in the shade of the house, sipping cool milk and looking like a man for whom the world held no worries.
Padraig and the boatmen had unloaded the provisions under a tree; the boats were gone now, however, and Padraig was preparing food on a small fire at the river's edge. Sydoni was asleep in the shade of the tree, and Roupen sat on a rock nearby, knees drawn up under his chin, and gazing forlornly into the swirling brown water.