Feathers

by Rose Mannering

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Chief’s Real Son

  Ode’s birth into the Taone tribe was not marked by a celebration. Many tribesmen and tribeswomen did not even know that their chief’s first child had been born until they saw him curled up in Sunset By Forest’s shoulder pouch. They tried to approach her to give respect to the new baby, but she shook her head and walked away. Those who had lurked outside the chief’s tent and overheard the fuss inside soon began spreading rumors. Eventually, everyone in the tribe knew Sunset By Forest’s shame.

  Though Gray Morning eventually forgave his wife, when the snow had melted from the ground and springtime came to the forests, his anger at his first son still had not lessened. When he saw Sunset By Forest—now recovered from her traumatic birth and smiling as she cut grass with the other tribeswomen—he could not help but fall in love with her again. She was small and graceful. Her amber eyes were warm, and her dark hair long and thick. Her beauty and her sweet nature won her a place in the chief’s heart once more, but nothing about Ode could please his father. Not his gentle mews as a newborn or his amber eyes that were so like his mother’s. Not his first tentative steps on pudgy legs around the bonfire, or his broad nose that was like his father’s. Gray Morning’s gaze washed over his first son as if he did not exist.

  When Sunset By Forest fell pregnant again, Ode was just old enough to walk and talk. Though she was pleased to finally fulfill her chief’s wishes, Sunset By Forest knew this meant she would have to give up her first son. When she told Gray Morning the news he held a feast, and there was much dancing and chanting. Cala was brought forward in all her furs, and Sunset By Forest could not stop the tremor that racked her body in fear of what the birther would say this time. Ode, who was always at his mother’s side, felt it, too, and took her hand.

  “It shall be a warrior son. A great, strong warrior son,” said Cala, looking into the heart of the fire.

  Gray Morning yelled and gurgled with pleasure and the rest of the tribesmen joined him: “Ya–ya–ya!” Ode even attempted to add his own war cry to the chorus, but his mother hastily quieted him.

  Ode was everything a tribe mother could wish for. His manner was gentle, and he always wished to please. It confused him that he did not ride out with the tribesmen on their hunting trips like the other little boys, and he did not understand why everyone in the tribe persistently ignored him. But as long as he could stay by his mother’s side, he did not much mind. He slept curled in a ball at her feet in the tent, and he tried his hardest to stay out of his father’s way. Gray Morning could go whole days never seeing his son, who crept in his mother’s shadow.

  Besides Sunset By Forest, Cala was the only member of the tribe to show Ode affection. If she passed him in the settlement, then she ruffled his hair, or if she happened to see him while she gathered herbs in the woods, then she would call him over and give him a sweet berry. He did not know, yet, that she would soon replace his mother.

  As Sunset By Forest’s belly grew rounder, Ode fetched and carried for her. Like the little girls of the tribe, he followed his mother into the forest and across the flatlands, working and foraging. West River often accompanied them on their expeditions, and though she tried to take little notice of Ode, she was not so harsh as the other tribeswomen. If she saw him trip, she would gently pick him up and dust him off. She even let her own daughter, Rippling River, play with him sometimes. Rippling River was two seasons older than Ode, and she liked to boss him around. The two would go off gathering berries or kindling by themselves when their mothers were chattering.

  One afternoon while Ode and Rippling River were doing just that, Ode heard his mother scream. Dropping the sticks in his arms, he raced back through the dusty undergrowth, his bare feet pattering against the earth. It was early summer, and the sun leaked through the tall trees above, casting shifting patterns. Ode arrived in a clearing to see Sunset By Forest squatting beside a tree, her body trembling. She was trying hard to bear her pain without a sound, but groans escaped her pursed lips.

  “I will leave you,” said West River, calling for her daughter to follow her. “You must come back to the settlement if there is a problem,” she said over her shoulder. “You must not hurt yourself for shame’s sake.”

  “I can do it,” replied Sunset By Forest between hurried breaths.

  But once West River had disappeared, with Rippling River scurrying behind her, Sunset By Forest collapsed onto her back and let out a low moan. She knew that she should send Ode away, but he would be lost at the tent by himself, and if Gray Morning found him there alone, he would be angry. Instead, she threaded her fingers through her young son’s and held him by her side.

  “Mam hurts?” Ode asked some hours later when they were still under the tree.

  Sunset By Forest nodded since she could not speak.

  Ode bent forward and kissed her belly through the dyed buffalo hides she wore. He took the shawl from around his mother’s shoulders and bundled it into a pillow under her head. Then he hummed quietly under his breath and stroked her damp forehead as she would have if he were sniffling with a cold in the winter.

  Tears trickled down Sunset By Forest’s cheeks, and for a moment she almost did not want this second son.

  Mother and child remained together all afternoon. The sun beat down on the forest and the tall trees swished with the gentle wind. As the afternoon drifted into evening, Sunset By Forest began to stir. Her condition was considerably worse, yet she tried to struggle to her feet.

  “Mam?” Ode mumbled as his mother thrashed around.

  “Wolves!” she gasped and fell still from exhaustion.

  Ode stood up and looked around. The forest was as calm and quiet as before. The evening sun cast slanting light that dazzled his eyes, and the rush of the wind was cool against his cheeks. His mother had instilled a deep fear of wolves in him from babyhood and, like all tribe children, he knew that the forest was no place to be at night.

  Ode’s bottom lip began to tremble. Why was his mother unable to get up? He knew they must start out for home now, and he tugged on his mother’s arm, but Sunset By Forest did not move. She only groaned and clutched her stomach.

  “Chief!” Ode yelled and his voice bounced off the treetops.

  Ode was terrified of his father and awed by him in equal measures. He would watch from behind his mother’s tunic as Gray Morning rode in proudly after every hunting trip, a carcass laid across the rump of his mustang. There was no creature so fierce that his father could not defeat with his cold eyes and strong arms. If Gray Morning were here now, they would have nothing to fear.

  “Chief!” Ode tried again, but there was no reply, and he fell quiet.

  Around them, the air began to cool and the sun disappeared. An owl hooted, and Ode shivered. He wondered if he should call out to his father again, but he did not want to attract unwanted attention. Beside him his mother writhed and cried with each contraction. She screamed as an agony burned through her body, and Ode hastily put his little hand over her mouth.

  From far away came the long, deep howl of a wolf. After a heartbeat’s pause it was answered by other howls that echoed through the forest, vibrating against the rocks and the trees. The grass opposite began to rustle, and Ode grabbed hold of a nearby stick. Clambering to his feet, his little body shook with nerves, and he raised his tiny weapon in anticipation of what might pounce at him.

  A dark snout nosed through the long grass and a black-footed ferret scampered out, ignoring the little boy. The ferret sniffed the air, and then disappeared into the surrounding blackness. The stick dropped from Ode’s hand and snapped in two as it hit the ground. He sank onto his knees, his chest heaving, and fear seized his insides. From all around, the wolves began to howl again—a high screech to the fat moon.

  Ode squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that they were alone. The long grass rustled once more, but this time he could not bear to look. Something grabbed his arm, and he screamed.

  “Hush!” sa
id a voice.

  He opened his eyes to see Cala dressed in her furs. She knelt beside Sunset By Forest and ran her hands across his mother’s stomach, feeling the baby inside.

  “Another breech birth,” Cala said, shaking her head. “Your pride has stopped you from calling for me again, and this time you shall pay dearly for it, my chief’s partner. You shall never have another child.”

  Sunset By Forest barely heard Cala’s prophecy, so deep was her pain.

  Cala turned to Ode. “Come little man, you shall begin your apprenticeship now and help me save your mother.” She took Ode’s small hands in her own and showed him how to push and pull his mother’s body to move the baby inside.

  “Your brother is upside-down, and we need to turn him around,” she explained. “He needs to be born head first so that he can breathe.”

  Ode winced as his mother moaned in pain, but under Cala’s directions, he continued. Far off in the forest the wolves howled.

  “They will not get you, little man,” whispered Cala when she saw him tremble. “While I am here, you are safe.”

  Ode gazed into her black eyes, and he believed her.

  They pushed and pulled Sunset By Forest’s body and she groaned as the wolves throughout the forest howled to the moon. Then, finally, Ode’s little brother came crying into the realm, and Cala heaved a sigh of relief.

  “What is his name?” she asked, cleaning the child with a fur from a pouch about her shoulders.

  Sunset By Forest was barely conscious, but as Ode stroked and petted her face, she slowly came around.

  “A name?” Cala repeated.

  Sunset By Forest looked above her.

  “Blue Moon,” she said at last.

  Cala placed the baby in its mother’s arms and pulled Sunset By Forest to her feet.

  “Gray Morning will be looking for you,” she said. “Your absence from the settlement was noticed, and everyone is awaiting the return of the chief’s son.”

  Sunset By Forest glanced at Ode.

  “The time has come for him to stay with me,” Cala said.

  Sunset By Forest looked as if she might protest, but then the baby in her arms squeaked and she understood that she was needed by another son now.

  “Does Gray Morning know—” she began.

  “—that I am here?” finished Cala. “No. As far as everyone is aware, you birthed the baby yourself.”

  Sunset By Forest nodded and began walking wearily away.

  “Mam?” said Ode, toddling after her, but she pushed him firmly back, refusing to meet his eye.

  Cala took his little hand and held it in her own.

  “You are to come home with me,” she told him.

  Ode shook his head.

  “Mam!” he cried as Sunset By Forest disappeared into the darkness of the forest, heading back to the settlement. “Mam!” he screamed.

  But she did not look back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Storm

  The night Blue Moon was born, the Taone celebrated like never before. When Gray Morning saw his partner walking through the trees at the fringes of the forest, a bundle in her arms, he let out a gurgling war cry to the moon: “Ya–ya–ya!”

  He had been waiting all night, worried. He could hear the wolves howling and he had begun to wonder if he should have moved the tribe away from the forest into the flatlands where the predators would be fewer, but the dust storms that hit there this season would be equally perilous. Gray Morning had sat and pondered his decision for hours outside his tent, staring into the forest and willing his partner to appear. He did not want her shamed again for her own sake and so he stayed put, taking strength from Cala’s words: It shall be a warrior son. A great, strong warrior son. She had never been wrong.

  When he saw Sunset By Forest, he was rewarded for his patience. She walked up to him and placed the baby at his feet, while the other tribesmen and tribeswomen who were awake yelled and cried with delight.

  “He is called Blue Moon,” she said. She swayed slightly from exhaustion, but she smiled nonetheless.

  Hasty preparations commenced for the greatest celebration the Taone tribe had ever known. Ceremonial feathers were gathered from the tribal stores, bonfires were lit, and meat was roasted. Those asleep were woken, and everyone dressed in their finest skins. Gray Morning put on his war headdress with its long tail of feathers that snaked down his back, and all the while he did not stop looking at his son.

  “This warrior carries the strength of both our tribes,” he roared later as his people stood before him and feathers floated through the night’s air. “He will lead us forward and make us stronger. We need fear no other!”

  The tribesmen shouted their assent, and then the dancing, chanting, and feasting began. Tawny feathers burst into the air, and the drums beat out the rhythm of the dance, calling in the golden dawn.

  Ode could hear the drums from the forest. “Mam left me,” he said to Cala, his brow creased with worry.

  “I will look after you now.”

  “But Mam!”

  Cala knelt and smoothed down his dark hair. “You are special and that is why I must look after you,” she said. “I will keep you safe like I kept you safe from the wolves.”

  Ode nodded. There was something about the tall, dark woman that felt very safe.

  “Let me take you home to sleep,” she said, lifting him into her arms.

  He laid his head upon her chest and snuggled into the furs.

  “I will tell you a story,” she said, beginning to walk through the forest. “There was once a man who wanted power. He would do anything it took to get it—he would even sacrifice those he loved. He grew wicked. But whatever he got, it wasn’t enough, and it soon became clear that he would not stop until he could achieve total ruin.”

  Ode clung to Cala as her swaying steps rocked him gently. He could hear the wolves howling and the gentle rustle of the forest, but he did not feel scared.

  “A man like that must be stopped, and it will take someone special to do it … do you see?”

  Cala stopped at the edge of the forest and looked down at Ode, asleep on her chest. She smiled and patted his cheek. She would tell him the story again one day and she hoped that he would understand.

  Ode’s separation from his mother was not easy for either of them. Whenever he saw her, Ode would go running to Sunset By Forest’s side, crying with relief. Sunset By Forest felt the strings of her heart pull, but she forced herself to push the child away.

  “You have a new mam now,” she would say, though she could not help her voice catching and trembling a little.

  Despite having been usurped by Blue Moon, Ode never held it against his younger brother. Instead, the mewing bundle only attracted him. In the evenings, while Gray Morning was often preoccupied with organizing the tribe and Sunset By Forest helped the women prepare supper, Ode would creep into the tent he had once called home. Bending over his little brother, who was wrapped in furs, Ode would chatter to him and pat his head like a pet. Once Sunset By Forest caught him and her fear for what her partner would have done had he been there made her angry.

  “You should not be here!” she cried. “Get out!”

  Had Ode been a stubborn or bitter child he would have grown to hate his mother and father, but as it was, he loved them too much. Instead of shouting back at Sunset By Forest, he planted a quick kiss on his brother’s forehead, and then scuttled out of the tent. Sunset By Forest did not know whether to laugh or cry. She gave up trying to keep her sons apart.

  One evening she even ventured to question the chief’s treatment of their first boy. Gray Morning was in a particularly good mood after watching Blue Moon take his first few steps, and it was a gentle spring evening on the flatlands with the realm stretching out even and brown in every direction. The tribe had just eaten a buffalo caught on the last hunting trip and all were satisfied and smiling. Sunset By Forest and her partner were sitting before a bonfire, watching the smoke curl away into the sky.


  “Blue Moon shall know Ode is his brother, won’t he?” Sunset By Forest had been reciting her words so carefully in her head that they came out in a rush.

  As was always the case when his first son was brought to his mind, Gray Morning’s shoulders stiffened. His gaze wandered involuntarily to the far end of the settlement, past the clusters of families and friends, to the lone tent where the birther lived.

  “The whole tribe knows it,” he said at last. “It’s hardly a secret.”

  Sunset By Forest smiled in relief. “Then they shall be brothers?” she said.

  “Only by blood,” Gray Morning spat.

  His raised voice caught the attention of those nearest to them and a startled silence descended. Gray Morning sprang to his feet, his good mood gone. He kicked at his leftovers and stormed into his tent, the flap closing with a snap.

  On the other side of the settlement, Ode heard the chief’s shout, but he was too far away to know what was said. Like all the people of the tribe, he had a keen sense for his chief’s cry that would often ring out to warn of danger. Upon hearing it, he peered out of Cala’s tent, but seeing nothing amiss, he retreated back inside.

  Lately, he had started to notice that he was not the only one that the people of the tribe ignored. He had seen many eyes dart away from Cala in fear. This realization had brought him closer to his caregiver, although he still would not call her “Mam” like she asked. Instead, they settled on “Auntie.”

  “Auntie, how do you know what an auntie is?” he had once asked, since there was no such thing in the Taone culture.

  “Because where I am from we have aunties and we have uncles.”

  At this, Ode’s brow creased in confusion. “Where do you come from?”

  Cala laughed. “A long way away,” was all she said.

  Ode assumed that she meant on the other side of the gaping lake, which was indeed a long way away and out of the Taone territory. The tribe traveled throughout the seasons between the gaping lake, across the plain lands and the winding river near the forest. Legend had it that the area was once shared by five tribes, but only the Taone was left, patrolling its expanse.