by Sandra Lang
* * *
“Why is she here?” shouts one man.
“She wanted to come, how could I tell her not to?” says another.
“She is the future Chief’s wife! Why in Tzora’s name would she want to leave?”
There is silence from the second man. Then a heavy sigh. “I do not know, Darien.”
I open my eyes to see Darien facing away from me with his hands on his hips. I cannot see who he is talking to, but I presume this is the man who took me away from my tribe. “Darien?” I say. The man turns so I can see Arren standing behind him. Every instinct within me shouts to run. However, I do not move – I cannot. I try to stay as calm as possible. That is the only way I am going to get away from here.
“Wise Woman, are you feeling all right? You seem to have hit your head quite hard.”
Quite hard indeed, I want to say. “Can I have some water please?”
Darien nods. “Arren, go fetch some water and bring the physician while you are at it.”
“Yes, Captain.” I can hear the malice in his voice as he says it.
Darien watches Arren leave before coming closer to me. “Are you here of your own free will?”
“No, Darien, please. I need to go home. Tarok will be so worried.”
“I am afraid we cannot turn around just yet. There is a storm outside and we have to wait it out. I will do everything I can to get you home, Wise Woman. Trust me on this.”
“I believe you, Darien. Please help me.”
“I will, Wise Woman. I will do all that I can.”
“Thank you.”
Arren returns with another man dressed in white with large, clear circles in front of his eyes. His hair is pulled back in a way a woman would wear in my tribe. He stands next to me and puts his fingers onto my wrist. “Will she understand me?” he asks the men. “Do you understand me?” he says rather loudly to me.
“Yes,” I say.
My answer does not help him lower his voice as he speaks to me. “You may have suffered a concussion. Do you remember what happened?”
“I was talking with a woman from my tribe then a sharp pain in my head. After that everything is… everything is gone.”
“I see, I see.” He turns his back to me and addresses the men. “I will have to keep her in here for observation. She stowed away, you say?
“Yes, Doctor Mallors. A crewman found her down in the storage compartment,” Arren says. Darien does not dispute the claim, but the look he gives the man in the white coat is strange. To me, it looks like Darien is telling him something, but cannot say it out loud.
“Lord Arren, it is a wonder that one of the crew found her. The wound on her head is of great concern. Perhaps you could get one of the cooks to fetch me some clean water?” Dr. Mallors says.
Arren looks from me to the two men. “Why me?”
“My Lord, there is no disrespect intended. Captain Darien just has more experience dealing with these natives than I do.”
“Fine. I will be back directly.”
They shut the silver thing behind him and wait a moment.
“Not everything seems to be on the up and up, Captain.” Dr. Mallors speaks, folding his arms over his chest and pushing the circular things up his forehead.
“She did not stow away, Doctor. She has just married the future Chief of the tribe and is considered an important woman in her own right.”
“So why did he want her?”
“Have you ever seen the natives, Doctor?”
“I have not had the chance, no. I always wanted to go ashore, but I get sick enough standing on this bloody ship that taking a smaller boat to shore is just out of the question.”
“She is different from the natives. Normally they have dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes.”
“Does Arren think she is one of us?”
“Of course he does. He has not stopped talking about her since he set foot on the damned shore! I should have kept a better watch on him. This would not have happened if I had.”
“What are we going to do, Captain?”
“Once the storm passes, we are turning this ship around. I will not have her spirits coming down on us for this.”
“You said she was important without being married to the Chief, what did you mean?”
“The natives have a Shaman as their spiritual leader. They also have a Wise Woman who is their gateway between the spirits of their land and their people. This tribe has never had one before. To tell you the truth, I had not seen the girl in four years. Now she is back and it just happens to be the time Lord Arren decides to accompany us on our trip.”
Doctor Mallors lowers his voice, thinking I cannot hear him. “Do you actually believe she is the gateway, Captain? Will she bring hell down onto us?”
“I wish I had an answer, Doctor. I do not care to find out, do you?”
“No, sir. There is one more thing I would like to mention to you. I was looking at her blood and it does not look good.”
“She looks to be in perfect health.”
“I know. I have never seen anything like it. Were any of the villagers sick?”
“Not as far as I know. She looks perfectly fine and so did everyone else.”
The two men turn to me as if just remembering my presence. “Miss, are you contagious?” asks the doctor.
“Am I what? I do not know what that word means.”
“Can I get sick from being around you?”
I shake my head to the best of my ability. “It is the moon illness. Only children born beneath the moon in winter can get it.”
“What does she mean by that?” Doctor Mallors whispers to Captain Darien.
Captain Darien shrugs, so I reply, “In my tribe I am called the Moon Child. I was born beneath the moon when the sun is sleeping during the winter. Most children born during this time do not live to see the first winter after their birth. I am special amongst my tribe. I survived my first winter and every winter after that. Unfortunately the illness caught up to me. I was not supposed to see last winter.”
“But you have survived.” Mallors pulls out a peculiar fold from his large pocket and opens it. He grabs a feather from the table near the bed I lay upon and begins moving it within the fold.
“What is that? What are you doing?” I ask, straining to see what he is doing.
“This? This is a journal and it is filled with pages. I am writing with my quill. It is called ‘taking notes’.”
“Can I ‘taking notes’?”
The doctor tears a page from the journal and hands it to me. He also hands me a second feather dipped in black liquid.
“Wise Woman, will you please continue telling me about this ‘moon sickness’?”
I put the feather onto the paper and push and pull it across the page. The black liquid makes a line onto the page wherever I move the feather. “This is incredible. What did you call this?”
“What you are doing is drawing, what I am doing is writing.”
“Drawing. Writing. Do your people do it often?”
“Only the educated ones. But you were telling me about your illness, Wise Woman.”
“Please, call me Akari. Wise Woman is my title, not my name.” I continue moving the feather as I speak, dipping it into the black liquid when the feather runs dry.
“I do apologize, Akari,” he says.
“Not all children born beneath the dead winter’s moon are pale like I am. I am moon touched. This means that my mother prayed to Naraki, the moon spirit, for help. Naraki listened and she gave me life.”
“Why was your mother praying to Naraki?”
“She and my father wanted another child, but one would not take. My sister is six summers older than I am. My mother prayed to Naraki to bless her with another child. I was brought into this world in the middle of winter when the sun is sleeping. My skin is lighter than everyone else’s, my eyes the color of glacial ice, and my hair black as the night.”
“So not all children born beneath this moo
n are like you?”
“No, but these children do not have the blessing of Naraki. I did and I lived.”
“You say ‘lived’ as if you are going to die.”
“I told you all ready, I was not supposed to see last winter.”
“How did you survive, Akari?”
“There are herbs that help. Do not ask what they are, I do not know.”
“I understand. Do you know what is going to happen? How your illness will progress?”
“I would rather take comfort in knowing how I have lived than how I will die. What would you rather know, Doctor?”
Arren enters the room carrying a large pot with water sloshing inside. “The next time you want clean water, old man, get it yourself.” He nearly drops the pot onto the floor and stomps out.
“Very well, Akari. I will stay with you and make sure that you are comfortable.”
“You are so sure that I will die on this ship?”
“I did not mean it that way. I simply meant that I will stay with you while you are on this ship and make sure that should you suffer any ill effects of your illness that you will be comfortable and cared for.”
“I appreciate that, Doctor. Though I do hope we will not be together that long.”
Captain Darien leaves us after Arren does, promising he will visit again soon. The doctor carefully cleans the blood from out of my hair and the cut on my head. He is very gentle and kind. He reminds me of Natoak, though he is not as smart.
“Doctor, what is Arren’s title? I have heard you say it but I do not understand it.” Natoak once told me that the best way to know your enemy is to understand them. I figure that Doctor Mallors and Captain Darien are the best people to ask about him.
“He is a Lord among my people. They are like Chiefs, but not as powerful.”
“So he is the head of his House?”
“I suppose so. He probably owns more land and people work for him.”
“No one can own the land, Doctor.”
“Tell me, Akari, what is it that you drew?”
I look down at the page on my lap. “This is my home. I am not going to see it again, am I?”
Doctor Mallors stops rinsing the rag in the pot. “Captain Darien is going to make sure that you will.”
“Lord Arren took me from my home to try and save me from the people I was born to. Do you really think he will let me go home? I will tell you now, Doctor, I will die before we make it to your homeland.”
“Do not say things like that, Akari,” he chides. “You will see your home again.”