by Joe Zeigler
“Good morning, Ma,” she said, smiling shyly.
That’s right, Liùsaidh thought. Last night Danijel promoted her from mistress to daughter. This will take some getting used to.
Danijel came out of the shelter, arranging his covering, and grunted to the women. Ixchel quickly cut some meat off the rabbit and arranged it on a woven plate, then surrounded it with vegetables. The woven plate was an experiment that Ixchel had watched Micaela produce the previous day. If it worked out, Micaela would add woven plates to her inventory. The woven plates were not as solid or waterproof as the clay-fired plates of the Cliff Dwellers, but they were lighter, flexible, and might be practical for traveling.
Across the pond, in the central part of the camp, the People were busy preparing to go. Danijel was pleased and grunted at Liùsaidh, pointing to the activity. He was slow to awaken and grunted a lot in the morning.
“We’ll be leaving soon,” he said, mainly for Ixchel’s benefit.
“Yes, Danijel,” she said as she started to clear the cooking tools and cover the fire. She was not quite ready to call him father. Perhaps he will invite me to do so.
Soon Danijel and five of the warriors, including Gwuune and his protégé, Cuidightheach, were leading the way down the trail, followed, as planned, by the women and families. The men brought up the rear. Because they were moving downhill and the trail was smooth, Micaela had built a travois to carry Ohad’s goods and was now dragging it along behind her. This was much easier than having to carry everything uphill.
Ohad was traveling with the group of women, walking beside Tinga, midwife and herb woman, engaging her in deep conversation. Micaela briefly wondered what they were talking about and then put the thought aside as she admired the scenery.
Balance Restored
The Traders reached the natural waterslide on the river and found Glooscap waiting. They quickly got to business.
“And what do you have to trade for the flint you want?” Gedeon asked Glooscap.
Glooscap unwrapped a cured skin to reveal almost one hundred combs.
“What are those,” Gedeon asked, “kindling?”
“No, no,” Glooscap answered. “Much better, much more valuable. Here is a trade product that no one knows they need. But once it’s demonstrated, they will have to have it. Woman,” he called to one of the girls standing around watching the transaction, “come over here and sit on this stone.”
When she was correctly positioned, Glooscap passed the comb through her hair, resulting in an excellent collection of lice he showed first to the girl and then to Gedeon. She understood instantly and snatched the comb from Glooscap’s hand before running off, laughing.
“I’ll get it back for you shortly,” Gedeon said. “How much do you want for this comb?”
***
Danijel’s people reached the place where the path forked to the river ford, and Danijel stopped, stood by the side, and directed the women toward the ford. As they passed, Liùsaidh took their offering to the Raiders and, with Ixchel’s help, arranged it in an attractive display just south of the cutoff.
Separating Ohad from two of his skins was entertaining and time-consuming, but Danijel accomplished it, and Ohad made his contribution to the tribute.
This will work, Danijel thought as he watched the offering increase to an impressive size. Even if the Raiders move up the trail to try to split us, when they approach the rear, they will find themselves attacking our warriors rather than the women they expect.
The last of the women and children passed, and the head of the column of men paused as they approached Danijel.
Danijel waved the leader of the column and Gwuune to him and instructed them. “Cross behind the women and defend the ford. If the Raiders attempt to follow, stop them in the middle of the river. If you have to fall back, do so early, rather than later. Let’s avoid casualties. Back them up the Mud River to the narrows at the last falls and hold them there. By this time, the women will be too far upriver for the Raiders to trouble them. So then disengage and rejoin the women.”
“Yes, Danijel, it will be done. Where will you be?”
“I’ll be along soon,” Danijel replied. “Don’t wait for me and don’t worry.”
As the column passed, Danijel could see movement on the rim of the canyon. The Raiders were aware of Danijel’s tactics. It wouldn’t be long now.
And he was right. Just as the last of his men disappeared down the trail toward the river, Caddarak appeared, without a sound, in the middle of the main trail just south of the pile of tribute.
“Hello, Danijel,” he said.
“Caddarak, good day to you.”
“What is going on here?” Caddarak asked. “Are you not going to fight? Are you running away?”
“Yes,” Danijel answered without further explanation.
“And then, what is all this?” Caddarak asked, indicating the pile of goods.
“Where is the Prophet? What are you doing here?”
“I am their leader now—it’s a long story,” Caddarak answered. “Again, what is all of this, and what are you doing?”
“I am attempting to reestablish the harmony and balance disrupted by the Prophet’s actions and then abetted by my own, I’m embarrassed to say. There is your booty.” Danijel gestured. “Take it and declare a victory.”
“That is kind of you. But it’s not the same.”
“No, Caddarak, it is not the same as a full-out battle between our people. It is not the same. It is better. You declare a victory, with no effort and no casualties. You, in your first encounter, win and declare yourself a hero. We both are aware of the strong feelings. If we lead our people to battle now, there will be no quarter. Too much blood would flow from both sides, and the balance would be broken.”
Caddarak carefully examined the pile of goods and nodded. “Your words are wise. This is adequate, except I will need ten young girls. I have promised my men women.”
“Can’t do it, sorry.” Danijel looked intently into Caddarak’s eyes. “Caddarak, I really can’t do it. I was pushing to get this.” He pointed to the pile of goods. “My people are having trouble understanding why I want to surrender anything to you after they have defeated you three times.” Danijel could see that Caddarak was becoming angry, so he continued to reason. “The Traders are coming down the trail only a few days behind us. Take women from them.”
Caddarak’s countenance softened, and he spoke wearily. “No, you are right, and we can’t fight them right now, either, for the same reasons. The Prophet was too greedy and too dangerous. He has upset everyone, and I need some time. This tribute of yours is a good idea. I’ll accept it and make it work.”
“Until next time,” Danijel said and started down the trail after his men.
That evening, having told Nabihah to call off the attack, Caddarak met with the elders.
“We are puzzled. Didn’t we plan for a large, decisive battle today that would yield booty and women and restore our pride?”
“No,” Caddarak replied. “I know that I misled the men, and perhaps the elders also, though I did share my plans with some,” he lied.
“Well, then,” Nabihah said, wondering why these secret plans had not been shared with him, making him suddenly feel insecure. Caddarak’s tone conveyed confidence, and that worried him.
“We were prepared to fight, of course, and would have won. However, I hoped to accomplish and did accomplish, something much more important. This was the first success that I hope to repeat in the next few days and to establish as a custom.”
“Well, then, what is it?” If it were possible to feel excited and frustrated at the same time, this would have been their mindset.
“I do not intend to change anything about how we as a people go about our business. We will continue to profit from others with our raids, kidnapping, and capture of booty. Also, I intend to add a new venture—a great new business that will provide us with a steady, dependable income every year, year after year—
recurring income forever. We have already received our first payment,” he said, pulling aside the large skin that had hidden the goods left at the fork in the trail by Danijel’s people.
There was a gasp from the elders. How, they all wondered, had such treasure come to their camp with no uproar or sign of battle? None of them had heard anything about a fight, seen any wonder, or for that matter, seen any unusual activity. Some just stared. Others rose and moved forward to examine the loot.
“Where did you get this?” the leader of the elders asked.
“It is the toll and tribute from Danijel’s people, the Canyon People. It is the price they paid today for using our trail system. It was collected without violence and given gladly, with the agreement that a similar payment will be made in the spring when they move north, and again next year.” Caddarak, of course, was making this up from whole cloth. There was no such agreement.
But who knows? In any case, this story should get me through today and into the future, when I can tell them other things they want to hear.
When the meeting with the elders ended, the Raiders moved north to establish their toll station at the big drop. Caddarak calculated that it would be difficult for anyone to get down the trail if he occupied the bottom of the steep, narrow path. He knew there was only one group left to pass this season—the Traders who had defeated them earlier. This time, the battle would be on Caddarak’s terms as he held the bottom of the drop. The Traders would have to come down the trail one at a time. If necessary, Caddarak would kill them one at a time. They would not have a chance.
***
Danijel greeted his men at the river ford. “Send a runner after the women quickly. Tell them they are safe and to stop and set up camp at the closest suitable place. We will join them this evening.”
“So the Raiders are not going to be a problem?” Gwuune asked.
“No problem,” Danijel answered. “The Raiders are placated and will most likely move north. I think I’ve given Caddarak a new idea. We will put scouts on the rim, and as soon as the way is clear, we will recross the river and continue on the main trail.”
When Ohad arrived at the Mud River camp with the other men, Micaela had organized a comfortable campsite for him and had a fresh stew simmering over the fire.
“Ah, I am exhausted,” he stated. “Come over here and rub my feet.” Micaela—who had walked no less distance and then cleared the area, set up the camp, and prepared food—was not resentful. After all, she was much younger. “Before we eat,” he continued as she removed his sandals and rubbed his feet, “I want you to take a comb to Gwuune. He was admiring Liùsaidh’s comb, and I promised him one.”
After a few more moments, Ohad had had enough and was anxious to move along with his plan. “All right, Micaela, I’m hungry. Go see Gwuune, give him the comb, and hurry back to serve me.”
Micaela secured one of the nicer combs from her basket and ran like a young pronghorn across the encampment to Gwuune’s shelter, just downstream from Danijel’s. On the way, she passed Maxtla’s shelter. He knelt outside, busily encouraging his fire into greater exaltation. He saw her and averted his eyes. Micaela thought to confront him, to ask what was wrong and what his intentions were, but thought better of it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“Gwuune,” she said, interrupting his dinner, “here is the comb Ohad promised you, with his thanks.”
“Thank you, Micaela,” Gwuune replied slowly with a confused expression. “But I don’t recall Ohad promising me anything. What is a comb?”
“Oh, my…I must have misunderstood, Gwuune. I am sorry. Nonetheless, I’m sure Ohad means for you to have this. It is a comb. You run it through your hair, and it removes lice. Also, while most think that it organizes the hair, combing makes hair shine and become more attractive.” She demonstrated.
“This is truly surprising,” Gwuune said. “Thank Ohad for me and tell him I will treasure this unexpected gift. It is a gift, isn’t it?” Gwuune asked, suddenly worried as the words “gift” and “Ohad” came out of his mouth in the same sentence. A gift was very unlike Ohad.
“Oh yes, yes, Ohad made it very clear to me that this is a gift.”
“Well, OK,” Gwuune said uncertainly. “Thank him for me.”
“Right, sorry to interrupt your dinner. I must be getting back now. I must serve Ohad his dinner.”
When Micaela returned, she found Ohad stirring the stew with her wooden spoon. My, my, she thought. This day is full of surprises. First, Ohad presents a gift, and now he is cooking.
“Get your food, child,” Ohad ordered. “I have already served myself.”
Eijá Returns
The next morning, Micaela awoke with a warm feeling between her legs and a nauseated stomach. Throwing back her fur blanket, she screamed at the sight of the thick red blood. “Ohad, come quickly. Help me. I’m bleeding.”
Ohad rushed to her and, seeing the blood, reassured her, “This is normal, child, and it is just part of the pregnancy, like your sickness in the morning. I will fetch Tinga, the midwife. In the meanwhile, keep your legs firmly together to slow the bleeding.”
***
“Micaela,” Tinga said, “I have stopped the bleeding by packing you with moss. I believe you should be OK now and will be able to travel in two days. Until then, you must lie still and rest. I am sorry to tell you that you are no longer pregnant. The baby is gone.”
Micaela, feeling suddenly empty, asked tearfully, “What happened? Everything was fine last night.”
“These things happen, Micaela. I am very sorry, but the will of God must not be questioned. You must accept his plan for you.”
Micaela stared at her with conflicted feelings.
When Tinga left, Ohad approached and said, “Danijel stopped by while you were sleeping. We are moving downriver today, but he will leave two men to guard you while you recover, and they will then accompany you downriver to rejoin the group.”
“You are not staying with me?”
“No, child, alas, I cannot. I have responsibilities and must travel with the group.” He continued the thought without speaking it: where I shall enjoy the safety of numbers. “Gwuune and another warrior will stay with you until you recover and then help you to catch up. They will also guard my inventory and carry it for you until you recover your strength.”
Micaela nodded, not really listening. She was trying to figure out how she felt about losing her baby. Her heart was screaming in horror while her mind was relieved. Her confusing and conflicting feelings left her numb as she watched Ohad walk away without actually seeing him.
It felt like much later when she sensed someone kneeling beside her, parting her coverings, and starting to bathe her. She closed her eyes and slept. When she woke, her head was held in someone’s lap, and her body was wrapped in furs. She felt warm and safe. She looked up.
“Oh, hello, Eijá. What are you doing here?”
I’m dreaming, she thought. I know Eijá is dead or kidnapped by the Raiders. Perhaps she escaped. Maybe I’m dead and have gone to join her.
“The gods have sent me back to comfort and to care for you. To see you through this hard time and to help you heal as they healed me.”
“The gods?” Micaela asked sleepily.
“Yes, I have been among them. They live in an unusual dwelling where it is neither hot nor cold. And it is big. I had no occasion to be outside the whole time I was there. I’ll tell you about it later. Now, relax. Go back to sleep. Sleep is what you need. You are tired and have lost a lot of blood. Sleep…I’ll be here when you awake.”
Micaela slept through the day and into the next. When she awoke, Glooscap had arrived. She could hear Eijá and Glooscap speaking. Glooscap was expressing concern while Eijá reassured him.
“She will be OK,” Eijá was saying. “These things happen and are usually not dangerous to the woman—” she avoided the word “mother”—“as long as the bleeding is controlled.”
“What is the reason for
such a thing?”
“Tinga believes it to be God’s will. That’s nonsense, of course. Sun would not do that. It could be a number of things—from a fall, a blow to the stomach—though I’ve not known Ohad to be violent—stress, bad food. In any case, it’s too late now. But the good news is that she is all right. She’ll be able to travel tomorrow. Are you staying with us?”
“Yes,” Glooscap replied, “I am. And Cuidightheach and Gwuune are here, as well as two other warriors. I will have these young men carry some of my load and Micaela’s. I acquired quite a lot of flint for Ohad. I believe it to be a greater quantity than what he lost to the Raiders.”
Eijá laughed. “Is there anyone who is not privy to that secret?”
Glooscap smiled. Glancing toward Micaela, he saw she was awake. He moved to her and knelt. “Micaela, you are awake.”
“Yes, Glooscap, I know. Thanks for telling me, though.” She smiled sardonically.
“Yes, sorry,” Glooscap said, feeling strangely awkward around this beautiful young girl. “I generally say something stupid when I don’t quite know what to say. What I meant to say was I am very sorry for your misfortune, and if there is anything that I can do to alleviate your misery, please call on me.”
“Thank you, Glooscap,” Micaela said, now feeling bad for her tone. “How are you? How did your trading with Gedeon go?”
“Very well, very well indeed. I have procured much flint for Ohad. Much more than I had imagined, more even than I think Ohad imagined in his most optimistic dreams. They acted as if they possessed a glut of flint that they wanted to rid themselves of, rather than have to carry it. At times, my impression was they were trying to give me more than I asked for. It was odd. But Ohad will be happy.”
“Yes, and this will benefit you. Ohad will be very pleased and will reward you,” Micaela said.