by Zoe Saadia
Or to avoid your company, he thought, enraged. He may have been guilty of listening to no one but himself, but so were many of the leaders, this particular elder, the member of the Town Council, included. No wonder the councils could never reach an agreement without verbal fights, or worse, he thought, standing the heavy gaze, trying to appear as humble as he could. One was not to argue with the elders, but to receive their reprimands with humility and gratitude.
Luckily, more people approached them, leaving the emptying pot of stew, and the angry elder’s attention was taken away. Avoiding their gazes, Two Rivers got to his feet, as though intending to fill his plate, changing his direction and sneaking toward the dancing circle the moment his intention was not too obvious.
The annoying man, he thought, seething. To scold him in public and in such a manner, as though he had been a stubborn, petulant child. He stifled a curse. One thing was good about this impending raid. He would have an opportunity to leave the town and its confusing affairs. Half a moon with no preaching elders and disappointed leaders, what an alluring prospect!
“So, the old warriors managed to gather some of their strength back.” Iraquas’ round face beamed at him, glittering with sweat and the smeared paint. “I thought you were going to sit there and talk for the whole night, oh-honorable-elderly man.”
“Thought you, the youngsters, might need some backing up.” Still upset, Two Rivers forced a smile, but refused to join the outer circle. “In a little while,” he said, waving his friend away.
The observers such as himself were more numerous than the dancers at this stage of the night, but the girl from the Porcupine Clan was still dancing, her eyes flickering, resting on him, beckoning him in.
He watched her thoughtfully, enjoying the sight of her swaying hips, the polished shells of her colorful girdle reflecting the light of the nearby fire. She had been widowed for some moons; although, he remembered catching her glances before it had happened, too. Could be a good way to spend the night.
Beside her, a cluster of Beaver Clan girls was giggling, gossiping as they danced, with only one of them dancing for real. Seketa, the prettiest girl, Iraquas’ cousin, a serious little thing, with much aspirations and no silliness.
Yet now, the girl’s large, doe-like eyes were not concentrated on the dance like one would have expected. Instead, they rested on none other than the foreign boy, who didn’t dare to join the dancers, but who had enough courage to stand on the edge of the crowd, devouring the girl with his gaze in his turn.
Two Rivers hid his grin. The young cub had to have guts to mingle among the townsfolk after what happened on the previous day. Not everyone would dare to do that, risking getting into trouble with the incensed Beaver Clan people, with the rest of the town disliking him more than ever.
He was about to grin at the youth, wishing to encourage him with at least one friendly face, but then he remembered his own violent encounter this afternoon, and it made him turn away without a greeting. Curse that damn Seeta into the realm of the Evil Twin and his minions, he thought.
“Don’t you have enough strength to dance through the whole night?” The voice of the Porcupine girl tore him from his reverie, making his heartbeat accelerate.
“Maybe,” he said, eyeing her flushed, heart-shaped face. Her lips were as dark as her cheeks, full and well-defined. “With you, I will dance for the whole night. In the inner or outer circle, or anywhere else.”
She laughed softly. “Come.”
The pull of her arm was firm, uncompromising, and he felt the people’s curious gazes upon them, some friendly, some wondering, some sparkling with rage like the eyes of Turea, Yeentso’s sister. This one was as beautiful as always, tall and imposing, her wonderful hair flowing, cheeks glowing, eyes dark; but the creases of her frown made her look older, and the pressed lips were downright ugly.
He took his gaze off her and dived into the outer circle of dancers, following the uncomplicated steps, surrounded by wonderful energy, his anger receding, giving way to familiar elation. The simple pleasure of rhythmic movement took off the edge of the frustration, and the pretty sight of the Porcupine girl’s shapely legs made his thoughts flow into all sorts of peaceful channels. She retreated into the inner circle of the dancers, teasing, but he knew she meant more than that while coming to invite him to dance. He pondered if it was time to beckon her and ease his way out.
“What are you staring at?”
Outside the dancing circle, an argument was growing, and he could see the Beaver Clan beauty making her way out too, eyes troubled. The foreign boy, he guessed. Who else?
“Nothing!”
Another youth stood in front of the wild cub now, frowning.
“Stop staring at the girls. They are not for your filthy eyes.”
The look the foreign boy gave his offender was fierce, blazing with so much hatred, the other youth took an involuntary step back. More people drifted toward them, and even the dancers began stealing glances.
“Go away,” hissed the cub through his clenched teeth. “I will look at whomever I like.”
“That’s what you think!” growled another youth, coming closer.
Encouraged by unexpected reinforcement, the first youth stepped closer, and the silence turned heavy, encompassing.
Two Rivers hesitated, unwilling to be a part of yet another trouble involving the wild cub. He could feel the Porcupine girl coming closer, halting beside him. Flying insults could give them a perfect cover to slip away, as no serious fighting would develop on the ceremony like that. Too many elders were present, leaders and other people, with Clan Mothers already shooting wary gazes in that direction.
“Leave him alone, Hainteroh!” The Beaver Clan girl’s voice tore the silence, making them all jump. “Stop looking for trouble.”
They all turned to stare, even the older people. Young girls were not expected to burst into arguments or fights. It was none of their business, even if they were the obvious cause of those.
The girl licked her lips. “No one tells you what girls you can look at or not, so don’t do this to others,” she went on, as forceful as before.
The foreign boy looked as tensed as an overstretched bowstring, but at her words, Two Rivers noticed, he relaxed visibly. How obvious! He hid his grin.
“Stop this argument and go back to dancing,” said an elderly woman, one of the Turtle Clan’s Mothers. She glared at the youths. “Do as you are told.”
They began shifting reluctantly, and he could feel the touch of the Porcupine girl's palm as it brushed against his arm, leaving a pleasant sensation in its wake.
“You, go back to your place in the longhouse,” went on the woman, addressing the foreign boy this time. “You were not to wander the town until the Councils decided on your punishment,” she added harshly, squashing the blushing youth with her gaze.
He still seemed as though about to argue, and Two Rivers could not but admire the boy’s spirit. To stand up to the Clan Mothers took more courage than some people could gather.
“I thought I was allowed to attend the ceremony,” he muttered in the end, dropping his gaze.
“To attend – yes. To stir trouble – no!”
The other women nodded solemnly.
“He stirred no trouble, Honorable Mother,” said the Beaver girl quietly.
The elderly woman seemed as though about to burst as her gaze flew at the girl, blazing.
“How dare you to argue with your elders?” she demanded.
The Beaver girl’s face took the color of the purple shells adorning her tiny waist.
“I’m not arguing,” she said, lips trembling but voice still firm. “I’m simply telling what happened. I saw it all. The Wolf Clan boy did not stir trouble. Hainteroh and his friend did.”
Another courageous thing, thought Two Rivers, admiring the girl for not giving up.
“Yes, there was no trouble,” said another elderly woman, obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I saw it, too. Th
e foreign boy did nothing wrong this time.”
“Still, he should leave,” insisted the first woman. “He brings trouble, even if he doesn’t mean to do so.” She frowned. “Tomorrow he will be informed of the punishment regarding his past crimes, and then he would have ample time to think the things over and to start correcting his ways.”
“What will be the punishment?” asked one of the older warriors, curious.
“I heard he would be required to pay ten hides. Ten good, large, undamaged pieces.”
The crowd gasped.
“Oh, stop spreading rumors,” cried out the woman of the Wolf Clan. “Ten hides? What nonsense! Who would agree to such an outrageous price?” She looked around, enraged. “Five hides was the agreed price, and it is too high also, if you ask me!”
“Your clan can get this amount and more,” laughed someone. “Wolf Clan is not the smallest clan of the town.”
“So what? Does it mean we should clothe you all, you lazy, good-for-nothing men?” The woman flipped her hands in the air, advancing toward her offender.
The laughing man retreated a step. “I didn’t say that,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “All I did was state that you can manage, and that the boy is lucky no one died.”
“He is not so lucky,” said another Wolf Clan woman. “He will be required to get those hides all by himself, even if it takes him summers to do it.”
“Oh!” The air hissed loudly, escaping many chests. To send the young boy to hunt the deer, skin it, tan it, and prepare the hides was an unnecessary toughness. He had neither experience, nor the skill to do a half of it.
Two Rivers felt his own anger rising. The boy had been formally adopted, through the customary ceremony. He was supposed to be a part of the family that requested him, enjoying the real family life. Instead, he had been an outcast, with no warmth or protection, and now, with even his own clan unwilling to help him out.
“Why won’t the Wolf Clan take responsibility for its members?” he said loudly before able to stop himself. Again, his tongue proved impossible to control.
Now the glares of the Wolf Clan women were upon him, while the rest of the people kept silent, holding their breaths.
“We are a part of a clan because without it we are nothing.” He saw their faces, flickering strangely in the flames of the raging fire. It made him shiver, but there was no way back now. He shrugged. “Clan gives us protection and means to survive. Is it not the whole purpose of the extended families? Is it not why we give our clan everything it requires in return, so the person would not need to battle the challenges of life all alone?” Encircling them with his gaze, he saw people drifting closer, listening, their curiosity obvious but mixed with the usual apprehension. They did not trust what he said, not entirely. “This boy was adopted officially, officially. He is a part of the Wolf Clan, living in their longhouse, doing his part, hunting with Wolf people, fishing with them, clearing its clan’s fields. How can the Wolf Clan Council shake off its responsibility to him? All of a sudden, he is a foreigner and has nothing to this clan. How could that happen? Doesn’t this decision to make him face the reasonable claim of the Beaver Clan’s people alone violate the most basic of our laws? Is it not going against our ways, our customs, our traditions?”
“No, it is not,” cried out one of the Turtle Clan Mothers. “There were quite a few instances. When a person’s crimes are too high or too unfitting, he or she might be expected to deal with the consequences of their deeds all alone.” The woman’s eyes flashed. “It is not your place to criticize the decision of a clan council. Let alone of the clan you do not belong to.”
He took a deep breath. “Yes, I know it is not my place to try to interrupt the decisions of a clan council, any of the clans. But I do believe a person can sound his opinion. I was not setting myself in judgment, but I cannot turn my face from the obvious injustice. The crime of this boy is not high, or unusual. He did not try to murder the man he injured. Indeed, he acted foolishly, without thinking. But he had been provoked. I was there, I saw it all. There was nothing unusual about their fight. It happens often, regretfully so.” He remembered his own afternoon encounter. Had he cut Seeta’s throat, he would be in as deep trouble as this boy now, worse so, because the provocation was not as unbearable. Seeta did not try to touch him at all, but merely said silly things, while Yeentso was grabbing this boy’s throat, threatening to kill him. He shook his head to banish the unwelcome memory. “I thought the Town Council was making inquiries, to determine the seriousness of the event.”
“The Town Council would have done this had the victim of the attack died,” said one of the elders softly. “As it is, this problem went back to the Clans' Councils, to close the matter between them.”
Two Rivers nodded, forcing his face into stillness. Yes, he should have thought of this. There was nothing to add, really. If the Wolf Clan Mothers were determined to discipline one of its members in this way, then that was that.
The elderly women glared at him, victorious, their eyes sparkling. He returned their gazes, then glanced at the boy, who stood there all ears, eyes traveling from face to face, listening avidly. The wolf cub’s path was turning more difficult from turn to turn, and with such temper and so much pride he wouldn’t go far.
“Five hides is not such a great price,” said someone. “If you think it’s so cruel and unjust, you can go with the boy, help him hunt. A guide of your skill and experience would be of a great help.”
Incensed, Two Rivers shot a glance at the speaker, a man of his own clan, residing in the neighboring longhouse.
“I may do just that,” he said coldly.
“Instead of going with our raiding party?”
He wanted to kill the man for trapping him this way.
“Maybe.”
He didn’t have to do that, neither to take care of the boy, nor to do so instead of joining the warriors. The hunting could wait, should he decide to help. There was no need to create a scandal by refusing to join the raid after participating in the War Dance, and after being indicated by the War Chief as to the chances of him being among the chosen. And yet…
“If you are going, be careful. Aside from all sort of enemies lurking, through the last two moons, the other bank of the Northern River was spotted by footprints of a huge bear. The grizzled brown bear, most clearly, and judging by the signs - an old, vicious creature.”
“Yes, we saw those prints, too,” cried out several voices. “The creature seemed to make the First Springs and its tributaries its own.”
They were still talking as the idea flashed through his mind, too beautiful to disregard it right away.
“How many hides would the fur of the huge brown bear be worth?”
They all turned to stare at him, wide-eyed.
“What are you thinking?” asked someone suspiciously.
“Well...”
He rushed it through his head hurriedly, trying to play for time. He might have been acting foolishly, entangling the boy in an even greater danger than before.
The youth’s eyes bore at him, expectant, sparkling with apprehension that had nothing to do with doubt or fear. Encouraged, he looked up.
“If the boy was to slay the beast and bring its magnificent fur home, would his offering make it right with the Beaver People’s Clan?”
The silence was heavy, encompassing. He returned their incredulous gazes.
“A boy can’t slay such a beast. Even a hunter of many summers cannot be sure to trap the huge, grizzled bear and return home in one piece,” breathed someone.
“I’ll help him track the beast,” said Two Rivers, aware of his own heart beating faster at the prospect of the adventure. He turned to the boy, narrowing his eyes. “What do you say? Are you up to the challenge?”
The boy did not hesitate, not even for a heartbeat.
“Yes,” he said loudly, voice trembling, but only a little. “I want to do that.”
“What do you say?” He watched them, amused by
the various expressions crossing their faces.
“Well, it’s a challenge,” said one of the older warriors. He turned to the boy. “Are you sure you want to do this? Your chances of coming back from such an encounter are slim. Two Rivers will help you track the beast, will explain to you what to do, but he will not be hunting it together with you. It will be your challenge. Do you understand that?”
The boy licked his lips, then nodded, apparently unable to speak. His eyes, huge and glittering, clung to the man’s face, so wide open they looked round.
Two Rivers began to regret the idea. From the corner of his eye, he saw the pretty Beaver girl stifling a cry, pressing her palms to her mouth.
“It may have to wait until I come back from the raid to the lands of the Rock People,” he said, trying to gain time. Maybe he’d find the way out of it by the time he came back. There was no need to worry but for the nearest future. In a moon from now, many things may have changed.
“Also, you can’t decide on any of that without the formal agreement of the Wolf and Beaver’s Clan councils,” declared one of the women, her hands on her hips.
“Of course!”
“The bear may leave the area by then,” said someone, disappointed.
“Not likely.”
Involuntarily, he glanced at the boy again, meeting the firm gaze of the dark eyes, seeing none of the previous uncertainty.
“I would rather do it as soon as we can.” The boy’s voice did not tremble anymore, ringing clearly in the flickering darkness.
He tried to suppress his grin, proud of the young cub against his will.
“All right. We’ll see what we can do.”
In the corner of his eye, he saw the Porcupine girl gone, dancing again in the inner circle, her back turned to him. Oh well, he thought, shrugging.
Chapter 9
The footprint was huge. It was so wide he could put both his palms into the mud congregating in the main cavity if he pressed them tightly against each other, and still there would be some space left.