Liebeslied

“I detest men!”

“I won’t come close! I won’t even look at you, I swear to that! But you’re the best weaver in town! I’m here on His Majesty’s orders. If I don’t take these to him in time, my head will be rolling on the ground.”

**

A merchant in a black attire set his foot into the flower district and was immediately swathed in the light of the scarlet lanterns casting pools of crimson on the stony, narrow lane. A sedge hat on his head, dark fringes rippling violet in the pleasurable flickers, he kept his olive irises lowered, a long, thin pipe with a golden edge between his lips. Raucous laughter resounded all over the place, followed by music and lovely ladies with smiles, but despair within, calling out to people. The merchant’s frown deepened, jaw clenched.

“I hate the moon! It gazed down at me mercilessly while they-”

He had reached his destination. The middle-aged lady who ran this particular establishment smiled knowingly at him.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You know the way to her room, right? Don’t think I don’t know why you come here every week. Bet you’re the son of some high-born aristocrat and hence that black outfit. ‘Tis nothin’ but a disguise to sneak out, if you ask me.”

“I told you before, I’m a simple merchant in service to His Majesty. I just bring all these fabrics to the lady on the second floor because she’s so good at stitching patterns on them.” He pulled down his hat even more.

The woman sighed. “Yes, she’s brilliant at that. She makes clothes for all the courtesans here. I never allow anyone to get their hands on her. The same goes for you too, young man! If you so much as-”

“I know. You really love her, don’t you?”

“Raised her from the time she was a babe. In this place, nobody’s allowed to have children, you see. She was one of those unfortunate ones who had to be cast aside. I couldn’t bring myself to shove her into this business. So, she knits for people. It’s safe. But once or twice, not even I could protect her. Enough of this chatter. Go upstairs and leave as soon as you’re done. Got it?”

“As you wish, Madam.”

**

“I wonder what’s gotten into His Majesty. For a man who adores fancy clothing, he hires us no more!” One of the royal weavers complained.

“But have you seen the new designs on his garments? The patterns are so intricate! Not even we could-”

“Silence! Don’t you take any pride in your profession? We were chosen by His Majesty himself!”

A third weaver perked up. “Recently, there have been certain rumours floating around. About a woman…”

“A woman? Better than us? Unheard of! Where does this female weaver live?”

“Well, I don’t know if you can call it ’living’…”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, we can get rid of her, using that knowledge to our advantage.”

**

Smoke curled up into the clear night air as the merchant faced away from the lady as promised, one foot up on the sill, bare, while the other rested on the floor, encased in a straw sandal. The other one lay upturned on the mat. The pipe was held between his index and middle digits, the thumb supporting it, as he leaned against the frame, more relaxed than he had ever been at his real site of residence.

“So, what do you think, My Lady? For a wonderful artist such as yourself, the materials too, must be of the best quality, wouldn’t you say?”

A voice reached him. “These are beautiful.” The young lady; petite, with waist-length raven-black hair and long lashes over obsidian eyes that fulgurated vermillion, reflecting the flames from the lantern that hung just outside; softly spoke. She was running her practiced hands over the multi-hued fabrics that the merchant had brought for her. “I love the mauve one the most. I’ve already decided on a pattern. I’m sure His Majesty will like it.”

The merchant smiled as he exhaled another ring of smoke. “And the story behind the pattern?”

This was a sort of game between them. At first, the lady refused to speak to the man and thus, he had devised this little scheme that he was certain would appeal to her artistic sense.

She began in a dreamy tone, as though she witnessed it all transpire before her very eyes. “A wisteria is swaying in the late March breeze. So are the fronds of the willows. The lavender-tinted wisteria boughs are nearly kissing the surface of the glassy waters. The combination of sapphire and amethyst is captivating. Atop a red bridge, a veiled woman plays the flute. It’s like she’s making the tide of nature bow before her tune.”

The merchant had his eyes closed. He had never seen her face, never seen how she sat, how her hands moved as she stitched, the alluring voice was all he knew about her. He endeavoured to discover everything, every tiny detail. Before he knew it, that voice had gripped his soul and had taken him to lands he had never visited, lands he had never known existed.

“Perhaps the Emperor himself will carry you to this place, My Lady.”

“I don’t need him to. If he likes my work, that’s more than enough for me.”

“Then, what if a merchant did it in his stead?”

He heard no reply.

“You still detest men, don’t you? I’ve been coming here for more than twelve months…”

“I don’t hate you. You’ve already shown me so many lands beyond the seas.”

Face turned away, his green eyes widened.

“Before you arrived here, my mind was chained to this loathsome place. But because you let me do what I love the most, my mind can fly. I am free. I can stand amidst glittering grasslands as bright as emerald under the golden sun.”

If he had to compare her voice to something, it would be like the tinkling of a crystalline, falling drop from a leaf after a rain-washed afternoon as an orange twilight embraced, an earthy whiff swirling past the dampness. It was akin to a sweet lullaby. He was possessed by the strongest urge to pull her close and rest his head on her lap, walking together as a foaming wave twirled in glee around their sand-covered feet.

He laughed. “It’s like you have an enchanted mirror in your possession, as the characters from fables do, looking-glasses that can show you places from around the world.”

“The fumes. From your pipe. They twist and loop and I see not grey. The smoke does not fog my vision, it brings the world to me since I cannot reach out to grab it for myself.”

Time seemed to freeze for the merchant.

“You… c-cannot… walk?”

“No.” He could sense the finality, the acceptance and the serenity in her voice. “Remember me telling you before? I loathe the moon. It just stared down at me while I pleaded and begged. They carried knives, you know? I thrashed around so much that they slashed my veins to stop me from moving. The Emperor prays to the Moon Goddess, doesn’t he? His Majesty’s word is the law here. If the Moon Goddess is so omnipotent according to him, then why did it appear as though the full moon was devouring my blood when it gushed forth in a high arc, splattering the walls? The Madam never allows anyone in here, but on that night, those men gagged her. Why did the Emperor not do anything? Why did he not pass judgement?”

The merchant no longer felt like she was a minstrel from beyond the seas. She was now a vengeful woman of fire, emerging from a frigid ocean where no life could thrive.

“The Emperor is a rather… worthless man, isn’t he?”

“He is. I only make clothes for him since you bring the fabric to me.”

“Should you happen to come across His Majesty, what would you-?” The merchant’s voice trailed away.

“Oddly enough, I wouldn’t do anything. I harbour no ill-will towards him. Not anymore.”

The air in the room had thawed.

“My Lady, the clothes you wear… Do you make them by yourself as well?”

“I do.”

“What’s the tale behind the pattern on the one you’re wearing now? I should very much like to know.”

“They don’t have any patterns.”

“You work so hard for others and yet-”

“When it comes to myself, there really isn’t any point, is there? I stopped thinking of myself as a woman a long time ago.”

“Then why does your voice tremble with yearning, My Lady?”

“It’s getting late. You should get going.”

“Of course. Forgive me.”

She remembered the Madam’s words, “I told you, didn’t I, dear? Shackle your heart as tightly as possible. Do not loosen the manacles. It will hurt, but not as much as when he flies to another flower. Men are like butterflies. They do not linger at one spot for long. There is only one reason why they come here. Never forget that.”

**

“What shall be the next scenery? And who shall be the next protagonist?”

As usual, the merchant was smoking, not facing her, while the weaver was working briskly.

“A courtyard surrounded by pines.” It sounded like she was singing. “A little boy is playing. He’s laughing. I can hear it.” Her tone was delicate and frail tonight, yet happy. Soft as a pink bud that had not yet blossomed, too fragile to be touched. “His parents are watching from the porch, they’re smiling. The mother is…” The pink floret was about to bloom, he could feel her voice throbbing, “… expecting another child. Well, that’s the story.” Her tone altered drastically. “It’ll take me a while to complete this,” she sounded terribly matter-of-fact and detached, as though recalling an old warning, “you may inform His Majesty.”

You did not stop thinking of yourself as a woman at all, My Lady, the Merchant told himself, you just want to be cherished.

“My Lady, that story… do you wish for something like that?”

“Of course not. It was merely an idea for a pattern.”

“Does the smoke cloud your iron resolve and reveal your deepest desires?”

“I am no longer a woman. I was born in a place where women are robbed of their identity. I shall die here too, my ashes just thrown or trampled on.”

The sea was no longer a life-bearing entity. It destroyed.

The pipe dropped to the floor and rolled towards her. She picked it up and crawled towards him. “Here.” The weaver gently held the palm that had turned limp and pressed the pipe into his fist. Grasping the curled hand over the palm within her hands for a moment or two, she crawled away, wincing slightly due to the pain.

The merchant grabbed the right fist with his left and brought it close to his chest as though it was sacred. Her hands were not smooth and soft, but calloused, stiff, skin peeling off. How many times had she hurt herself while she stitched what she truly hoped for, while trapped in a web of dangerous butterflies?

The Emperor was a good-for-nothing, useless, pompous whippersnapper who needed to grow up.

**

“The black one in the pile is exquisite, isn’t it, dear Lady?”

“Y-yes, it c-certainly is.”

There was distinct terror in her honey-like tone. Before he could inquire further, she went on, as if in a trance, “I’ll make a design of a knight who can rescue… rescue… res-rescue… anyone w-who n-needs him… It’s a n-nice p-pattern, r-right? His M-majesty… is a f-fine w-warrior, y-yes? He… He’ll protect… his w-workers, won’t… h-he?”

“My Lady, what’s wrong? Please tell me-”

“N-no, haha… haha… Wh-what am I s-saying? W-why… should he… c-care… for… p-people… l-l-like us? He won’t come… Nobody will come…”

He ran out and dashed down the staircase.

“So… e-even y-you left? Hahahaha… Yes, men only come here for one purpose.”

She fell sideways. The light had left her eyes. Let them do whatever they want. I don’t care anymore. I’m just a lump of flesh anyway, mistakenly born, unwanted.

**

“What’s going on, Madam? She was traumatised!”

The owner of the establishment was daubing at the corners of her eyes with a piece of cloth.

“Some men came here. They asked for her specifically. I turned them away. But they said they had the Emperor’s permission. Apparently, he was impressed with her work and this was his gift. Said a low-born ought to be grateful.”

The merchant drew out a blade from within his black attire, eyes glinting murderously with the silver reflected off the dagger.

“What’re you-?”

“They used the Emperor’s name, did they? Show me a place where I can hide. I shall remove their heads off their shoulders!”

Even the woman could sense his bloodlust and shrank back.

“You’re no merchant!”

“Oh, I’m very much a merchant. I just want to dye some clothes red and present them to My Lady and the Emperor as the best gift ever.”

**

“The weaver who has stolen our status in the court lives just beyond this door.”

“You know what to do, right?”

“There is only one thing to do in a place like this.” They all laughed.

“After we’re done, we’ll concoct some story and have her executed by His Majesty himself. The Emperor doesn’t know that the weaver whose work he praises regularly is some wretch of a woman.”

Behind the sliding panels of an adjacent room, the merchant raised his blade.

“Indeed, there is only one thing to do.”

**

She was shivering uncontrollably when three men entered her chamber.

“Hoh?” One of them leered, “So you can’t move? That makes everything much easier.”

“Please, please… Kill me! But not that! Anything but that!”

“Aren’t you used to that sort of thing? Why start behaving like a prude now?”

She was begging, hands clasped as though in prayer.

“Please, just kill me! End my life! End it! Please!”

“My Lady, close your eyes!”

The men turned to see a hooded man, a black cloth over his face. Only his olive-green eyes were blazing with fury.

“My Lady, you don’t need to see this!” He raised the dagger.

“Who’re you?” Yelled the men.

“I see no reason to give you my name. You’ll be dead anyway.”

The weaver closed her eyes. He had remained, he hadn’t left!

She only heard scuffles and muffled groans and thuds as bodies fell. Then, she sensed someone kneeling before her.

“No, don’t open your eyes. I broke my oath to you. But ’twas worth it. I finally got to see your face. And-”

Two hands touched her cheeks gently.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” He brought their faces closer. “That courtyard with the pines. And the child playing while the parents watched… I’ve also dreamt of a moment like that. Over and over. A family… A future… With you.” He brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry, My Lady, for tainting your face with blood.”

And with that, he was gone.

**

Her hands and feet were chained to the scaffold.

“You,” the Minister of the Royal Court began, “are charged with the deliberate murder of three men-”

“That girl did nothing wrong!” The Madam, amidst the thronging crowd, yelled.

“Quiet, woman! Three bodies were found in her room. A man passing by heard noises. And you, yourself, screamed. Now, as I was saying, you, low-born girl, shall be executed in front of His Majesty…” She did not hear the rest of his sentence. It was a full moon tonight. She merely gazed upwards.

Yes, I’ve always hated you.

So engrossed was she, that she failed to notice the commotion before her.

“But Your Majesty, you don’t need to carry out the execution yourself.”

She was looking at the face of His Highness for the first time in her life. He was walking towards her with a sword.

And he was smiling.

The Emperor held a pipe in his left hand and a red crown adorned the top of his head, dark fringes falling on his forehead and curling at the nape of his neck. He was very handsome in a brazenly bold way with reckless abandon. His eyes, olive green, searched her face for signs of recognition. And lastly, his robes bore the design of a courtyard enshrined with pine trees with a child playing and his parents laughing.

“How do I look, My Lady?”

“You! You’ve been lying-”

“No, I meant every word I said. I’ve long desired to share my life with you.”

He lifted the sword. She scrunched her eyes tightly.

The chains came undone and she fell.

However, she was caught easily and embraced.

**

A boat sailed across a stream. Petals bedecked the rill and each of them shone white under the light of the moon. He dipped his hand into the river and then held it up high, the water trickling down. He then turned to face her as she sat primly on the other end of the boat.

“Worry not, My Lady, I will not touch you. Not until you permit me to. However, do allow me to ask you one thing formally. May I become a part of your life? In this nation, wedding vows are exchanged under the moon. That is why, in full view of the moon…”

“I don’t hate the moon anymore.” She smiled, the rays of the lunar orb dancing on her face. “Why did you renounce your position as the Emperor?”

“Because the woman I love cared about the merchant, not the king. But I won’t give up the clothes she made so painstakingly for him, scraping her fingers in the process.”

“Where will this boat take us?”

“To the place we shall call home.”

The white petals formed a helix in the high wind, uniting with the moon.