by Joe Zeigler
“We will live through this. Ederra will live through this. We all will. Then, as God is my witness, there will be an accounting,” she said grimly but quietly. The other girls slowly nodded in agreement.
She took a sharp breath, almost a gasp, as the resolve to overcome grew inside her. At that moment, she left her childhood behind.
When she returned to Ohad’s dwelling, none of the turmoil inside her showed on her face, in her body language, or in her voice.
No one can know what I’m thinking until I decide what to do.
Brisk Business
Across the river, the Traders were fully set up and doing a bustling business. The booths were selling flint, precious stones, shells, seeds, spears, food items, and—of course—hemp. The traffic crossing the river at the ford was taxing its capacity.
Ohad, being quite relaxed, ate his food slowly as he relived the previous night in his mind. In years past, he would have been up well before light and across the river to grab the bargains and scarce items before anyone else.
But that’s no longer necessary. He smiled to himself, for he—through a process of bribery and intimidation—had scooped up what he wanted at bargain prices the day before, along with all the rare items, which in time, would fetch much profit for him. He had other plans for this day. Some of those who had enjoyed Micaela the night before were not so wealthy or influential that Ohad was overly concerned as to their good will. And Ohad was sure they had fond memories of their experiences—he certainly did. He planned to offer them the opportunity to taste of Micaela again, for a handsome price.
Though the Traders’ venue was over a hundred yards away, Ohad could hear the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, haggling unto shouting. He also heard splashes in the river as some overanxious buyer slipped on the wet stones and fell in. Again, he smiled to himself, knowing that he had gotten the best of them before they had realized the game was afoot. Eventually, after he had eaten his fill and given Micaela instructions regarding her chores, Ohad made his way across the river and purchased a few small items, merely for show. He didn’t want to appear indifferent to the opportunity and the excitement and therefore, arouse suspicion.
After cleaning up after Ohad’s meal, Micaela organized the campsite and set out for the Traders’ encampment to trade for hemp seeds and other treats to add to Ohad’s meals. She had acquired a few shells by selling her baskets to trade, and she also carried three of her most special baskets with her. She knew Ohad would be pleased with the treats.
She had not yet coalesced everything that had happened to her and that she had learned. Regarding Ohad, she was still blind and serving him as ever. That would change.
***
Gedeon stood just outside the hectic marketplace, happy with what he saw. Even the more esoteric items that had no proven market yet were trading well. The small, smoked fish that he had acquired from the tribe living on the big lake; the strange spiral shells, for which he could see no practical purpose; and the dyed strips of hide were all finding homes at good prices. Though he did not promote the information, Gedeon was more than the scout and advance man for the Traders. He was the leader. The Traders were a more organized and vertically integrated group than they appeared on the surface. There were more things of earth and sky than the Traders presented to others.
He was the principal acquisitions trader for the entire group, and he primarily issued licenses for individual vendors and assigned inventory for them to sell. The concept had come to him during a long-ago conversation with Danijel, and it had proved very successful. The trade goods were now carefully selected based on demonstrated marketability, with some limited budget for new experimental items. He chose many things for their interrelationship. If one item was purchased from a vendor, it, with purpose, would lead to a corollary purchase of a related item from another seller.
As he stood quietly by, pleased with his observations, Gedeon thought, The only thing that can go wrong is if these people stay here in vain, waiting for Danijel, who, from what I’ve heard, dead to this world. He would not dare to come back. That would prove that Danijel was the Messiah, and rumor is causing enough trouble already. It is too bad. I had a great fondness for Danijel, who has proven a good friend and helpful business adviser. But Danijel is gone, and I’m still here. I’ll see him when we leave, and we’ll have stories to tell each other.
All the trading will be finished with this group today; they’ll just be occupying the campsite across the river. What other group of potential customers migrating down the river will pass by? After this busy day, we will do little business until this group departs. Gedeon’s good mood faded. Perhaps I could manufacture something to entice them to move on down the slope. He had done such before with some success—a ghost story, a rumor of approaching Raiders.
Coincidentally, Ohad was down by the river explaining to a group the dangers of the marauding Raiders. “They are murders, rapists, and thieves,” he cautioned. “They must be controlled with a strong arm.” Again, it was obvious who he had in mind for the job.
Soiled Fruit
Micaela walked slowly down the riverbank toward the ford. Any other day she would have bounded down the slope like a young pronghorn—today she moved slowly and carefully, like an old woman.
On the opposite bank, she saw Maxtla moving toward the ford, carrying a large basket—it looked heavy. It appears he has been busy with the Traders. She was not happy to see him or in the mood to have to divert his advances. Micaela need not have worried, as Maxtla averted his eyes, pretending to look at something downstream.
Relief, confusion, and finally understanding flashed through her mind. The thought that there would be no more advances from Maxtla struck her like a bolt, and she physically staggered.
A man, whom she didn’t know, caught her from behind, asking, “Are you all right?”
She nodded quickly, fighting back tears and looking down at the stones under her feet. Maxtla was much too proud to want a girl—and a girl was what Micaela was—whom other men had had, and in front of everyone. There was no doubt. Micaela was ruined. She had missed her opportunity with Maxtla and most likely with all the other young men in the group.
She made it to the other side without looking at him again and quickly hid in the crowd of shoppers. She traded some shells for four handfuls of hemp seeds, carefully wrapped them in a skin she had brought for the purpose and was putting them into her shopping basket when someone spoke from behind her.
“Young lady,” Gedeon said, “where did you get that beautiful basket? It is not from one of our traders.”
Turning quickly, Micaela was confronted by a tall, handsome, older man of at least twenty years with a good build and proportional features. Noting his red hair, which was very rare, she replied, “I made all of these,” as she demonstrated that three baskets were stacked inside one another, with her shopping basket being innermost.
Gedeon took her gently by the arm and guided her away from the throng. He had noticed the basket and the young girl when she first approached the encampment. The basket was amazing. Gedeon knew value when he saw it. That was his business, and he was very good at his business. “Please,” he implored, “may I see them?”
“Certainly…I am Micaela, and I have brought these three baskets and some shells to trade for exotic foodstuffs for my friend, Ohad,” Micaela said as she unstacked the baskets and placed them separately on the ground in front of Gedeon.
“They are lovely,” Gedeon exclaimed. “I will trade you for all of them! What is your price?”
Micaela hesitated, overwhelmed, and finally said, “The equivalent of one pronghorn hide?”
Gedeon blinked. This is too good to be true. These beautiful creations would certainly bring three hides apiece. He lifted one, and it was lighter than he expected, the branches unusually fine and the weave incredibly tight. He could see that, with just a little swelling, this basket would hold water. He had never seen work like this. Most wondrous were the
pictures that Micaela had created in the weave. One appeared to be a buffalo moving in front of a stand of reeds dancing in the wind.
Wait, he thought as he considered what was in front of him. How can the buffalo be moving? How can the reeds bend in the wind? This is only a picture! He realized the pictures had invited his mind to fill in the blanks between a static image and the movement of the world it depicted. Amazing, he thought. This girl has a talent I’ve not imagined. I must have these baskets and more!
“Fine,” Gedeon said finally. He had paused so long that Micaela had concluded she had made him angry with her demand for a pronghorn hide. She had been on the cusp of lowering her price when he finally spoke. “Come with me to the vendor. I’ll get three pronghorn hides for you right now, and I’ll take the baskets. May I buy the fourth one that you are using for your shopping? I’ll give you another hide and include another basket suitable for your shopping.”
Taken aback, Micaela exclaimed, “I meant one hide for all three baskets. One hide per basket is too much. I will give you the fourth basket as well,” she offered as she imagined the deal slipping away due to his perception of her greed. It wasn’t true! He had to understand. But, she wasn’t going to beg!
“Also, I don’t want a pronghorn hide, rather its equivalent in the form of a trade credit that I can use for items and foodstuffs that I select.”
Better and better, Gedeon thought. Four of these wonderful baskets for the equivalent of one hide. And I will also make a profit on the trades; however, perhaps it’s better not to be too greedy. I need to look to the future. True, I could make a wondrous profit on these four baskets. Somewhere close to eleven hides plus my trading commission. But at what expense? The best trade is one where both parties benefit equally. Failing that, future trade is not possible.
“My name is Gedeon. I am of the Traders,” he explained. “I would like to offer you the equivalent of four hides in trade credits and a plain shopping basket adequate for your purchases. Plus, I would ask that you offer me any baskets that you make in the future, at the same price, before you offer them to anyone else.”
“What’s going on here?” Ohad shouted as he approached and overheard part of the conversation. “What is this about baskets?”
“Oh, Ohad, it’s wonderful! Gedeon likes my baskets and is going to trade for all that I make,” Micaela explained with excitement.
Ohad had never paid any attention to Micaela’s basket making. After all, that was what women and young girls did. There was nothing unusual about it. But this did seem an opportunity. “What do you offer, Gedeon?”
Oh, damn, Gedeon thought, what has Ohad to do with this commerce and this girl? Of course, he knew Ohad well and had seen his proclivity toward greed. It was a greediness Gedeon and the Traders did not challenge, and in return, Ohad did not interfere with their commerce. However, this feels like interference is brewing.
“He has purchased these four baskets for the trading equivalent of four pronghorn hides—plus a plain basket so I can continue my trading today,” Micaela explained excitedly. The weight of the day and the night before had lifted from her as she smiled and bounced with excitement. “And Gedeon wants to purchase all the baskets I produce in the future.”
“They must be of this quality, of course,” Gedeon interjected.
“Of course, of course,” Ohad said reassuringly, “but one pronghorn hide is too little for this wonderous basket. You have examined the quality. Here,” he continued, picking up one of the baskets and offering it to Gedeon, “look at the tightness of the weave, the careful attention to detail. Imagine the hours that went into producing such a masterpiece. Each basket should fetch at least two hides.”
Ohad failed to catch the look of dismay on Micaela’s face and the disinterested expression that Gedeon’s countenance suddenly exhibited. He was too caught up in trying to imagine something superlative to say about baskets he had not previously noticed. He knew he was playing catch-up, so he continued playing for time.
“How many are you promising to take each week? It should be at least two to make an exclusive arrangement worthwhile.”
Micaela opened her mouth to explain that with all of her other chores for Ohad, it took her more than a week to produce even one basket. Sometimes it took over a month to finish a basket. Of course, basket making had never been a priority, but still.
“What do you have to do with this?” Gedeon asked, his lips tight, just a hint of anger stepping on Micaela’s first word before she could get it out.
“I am her agent and protector. She is like a daughter. I ensure that no one takes advantage of her. Any arrangements of this nature must go through me, and I will collect all payment. Payment must be in actual pronghorn hides, not trade credits,” Ohad said, thinking of the additional profit he would make selling the hides.
Gedeon looked at Micaela for a moment, a questioning look on his face. She averted her eyes and said nothing. Gedeon abruptly turned and walked up the hill toward the Trader’s area with no expression on his face.
“He’ll be back with the hides,” Ohad told Micaela. “I can see the greed in his eyes.”
Not for the first time, Micaela realized Ohad was fallible. He is making the mistake of so many, believing that other people think the same way he does. She kept the thought to herself as she remembered how kind Ohad had been to her since her parents’ deaths. Micaela didn’t know what would have become of her if Ohad had not taken her in. Slowly, without speaking or looking directly at Ohad, she gathered her baskets, arranging them as they had been before Gedeon approached her. She would continue her trading as she had planned before she met him. After all, she had lost nothing by this small interruption. Nonetheless, her high spirit dissipated, and she sagged slightly as she remembered her aches.
An Honorable Offer
Micaela returned late in the afternoon happily tired. She thought she had done well bartering. That satisfaction bolstered her weary mind and body. Setting the goods aside for the moment, she started to prepare Ohad’s food. It wasn’t late but close, and she moved quickly to get the meal ready.
Indeed, Ohad was right on time. He was rarely late for a meal. “Micaela,” he said as he daintily rearranged the plates before him for more efficient access to the food, “I have had an excellent offer from three of the elders. As insurance that the Breeding was effective, the three—the best bloodline in the group—have agreed to lay with you again tonight. By custom, there can only be one Breeding, so if you are not now with child, all will be for naught. This is a great honor and insurance for your future.”
Micaela shivered at the thought as memories of the previous night flooded over her, but she said nothing as her anger grew.
“Yes,” Ohad continued, “this is most fortunate and kind of them. It is as if the Sun of God has intervened for your benefit.”
Lucky me, Micaela thought. What have I done to deserve such good fortune? But it’s not like there is anything to lose. That deed is done. And there is most likely no way to avoid what Ohad has arranged. I may as well resign myself to this humiliation one more time. She considered whether to ask for a day to recover or just get it over with as soon as possible. Then a terrible thought occurred to her. What if this—tonight—is not the end of it? Suddenly it became clear to her that there would be no end until things were changed and that the men were not going to change the way they treated women unless forced. Or, led to change.
Ohad, for his part, was thinking of the jewels and flint he had collected from the three, realizing his imagination was running free. He wondered how many more times he could offer Micaela for breeding. Once it was clear that she was pregnant, it certainly would have to stop, though he doubted she would cooperate even that long once she was sure that she was with child. Perhaps these two profitable nights would be all that he could achieve.
“Not tonight, Ohad,” Micaela said, turning away from him before he could see the anger in her eyes.
“Wait,” Ohad cried. �
��What do you mean, not tonight? Do you not understand what honor they do you? Akule wants to ensure that you are with child for your benefit and for the benefit of the People. We all want that. The People need the children that you can bear.”
“Akule! That ugly, old, sweaty, fat man!” Shaking her head, she turned and walked away.
“I did not say Akule would be there,” Ohad protested to empty space, “only that he was helping me to arrange…” his voice tapered off.
Frustrated, he watched her walk away. She didn’t say no, he thought, just not tonight. That is understandable after all, she has been through. I should have been more understanding and sympathetic. Then I could have pressed her for a time, a commitment. He resolved to try a different approach this evening while she prepared his meal. She must understand that I’m doing this for her and only have her interests in my heart.
While Ohad ate, Micaela returned to the market in search of more bargains. She had not explored half of the offerings during her first visit.
Micaela refused to think of Ohad’s proposal as she examined the Traders’ goods and presented hers. She was glad to acquire some hemp rope, which was always of value.
Rather than trade for delicacies for Ohad as she had planned, she traded for a three-piece garment made of linen string woven together. The pants covered only to mid thigh and the shirt sleeves to her elbows. It was soft and elegant. Micaela had never seen such a fine piece of clothing. Ohad can suck a raw egg.
Resurrection
The next morning, Liùsaidh awoke, unwrapped herself from around Glooscap, and crawled out of the shelter into the brisk air. The chill this morning was enough to take her breath away. While she knew it would warm later with the Sun, she also realized it was time for the group to move south and downslope.
As she gathered wood for the fire to warm her and to cook Glooscap’s breakfast, her glance turned upward as if reacting to a sound, though she had heard none. A sense of awareness had beckoned her, and she saw Danijel standing at the edge of the encampment that she had prepared and maintained daily. She froze, and then she dropped the firewood she had been gathering and slowly straightened, her mouth agape, and her gaze fixed on this impossibility. Danijel stood, as he had so many mornings before, looking over the encampment of his people below.