Two Rivers

by Zoe Saadia

  Struggling to keep calm, Tekeni pressed his lips. “But why do you think you know better than our leaders, Mothers of the Clans, or the elders? How do you know the enemies are not evil, not different?” The silence of his companion made him feel stupid. “Yes, all right, maybe there is not much difference. Like you said, I should know better. But still, other nations are sending raiding parties to our towns, our villages. Should we do nothing? Let them burn our homes, kill our men, and take women and children?”

  “We are doing that, too.” The man picked a stone, weighed it on his palm, then sent it flying down the cliff in a perfect arch. “When you lived in your town of those Flint People, you feared our raiding parties. Now if your Flint People came here, firing fire-arrows into your longhouse, will you sit by, or will you join the defenders of your current place of living?”

  “I’ll join the defenders, I suppose,” muttered Tekeni, not sure what he would actually do in such a situation. It would be wonderful to hear the tongue of his people outside this town’s fence.

  “And there you have it. We offend them, they offend us. They attack, we retaliate. Or the other way around. We war and war for summers, for longer than anyone could remember, and we have less and less people and less food to sustain a normal way of living.” Another stone went flying, following the first in the same impressive half circle. “And there are many of us. Four nations on our side of the Great Lake, and how many on yours?”

  Tekeni hesitated. “Five.”

  The man acknowledged it with the nod. “Everyone warring against everyone, with no order and no rules. As though we are nothing but mindless creatures, with no ability to think or to speak our minds. Where do you think it will lead?”

  “I don’t know.” Tekeni frowned, sensing where the man’s questions were heading but unable to fight the urge to argue. “In the end, someone will win, I suppose.”

  “In what way?”

  “The others will perish, or they will be too weak to send any more raiding parties.”

  “More chances that all our nations will perish. And not at the hand of each other. The starvation and the diseases will do the work.”

  He remembered Little Falls and the horrible winter three summers ago. The cold was terrible, and there was not enough firewood to warm the longhouses, and not enough food to fill people’s bellies. The warriors were busy warring the whole summer, with no time to hunt enough meat to stock for the winter, or to catch enough fish. And the women and children were afraid of the raids which, indeed, kept coming, and so not enough firewood was gathered, and hardly an adequate amount of corn stored.

  He clenched his fists tight, fighting the familiar wave of dread and desperation. The illness spread like a wind, making people cough and burn with fever and gasp for air. The oldest dwellers of longhouses and the youngest were the first to succumb, dying quietly, with no power left in their bodies even to cry out.

  Others battled the bad spirits, drinking potions that the healers prepared and inhaling the sacred smoke. Some took longer to recover than the others. Some died despite the potions and the prayers. Tekeni’s mother and brother among them. She had been heavy with child, her inner powers insisting on the attempt to sustain her unborn baby, failing to save them both.

  As for his twin brother? He felt the salty taste in his mouth, where his teeth bit into his lower lip. He had always been the stronger of the two, as though having sucked the power belonging to his brother while still in their mother’s belly. He overheard one of the elders saying that once, talking to others, unaware that he, Tekeni, was around and listening. They said that if the miraculous pair, the twin sons of the War Chief, were destined to fulfill the prophecy, the other twin would have to find the way to regain the strength taken by his brother.

  With a desperate effort, he pushed the memories away, back into the dark corners of his soul, concentrating on the river and the calming presence of the strange man beside him.

  “The disease spreads more readily when people are hungry,” the man was saying, his eyes again on the darkness of the opposite bank, wandering unknown places. “And the hunger comes with the neglected fields, when the women are spending more time watching for invaders and running back into the town upon every real or false alarm. Also, when the men are busy warring, instead of hunting and fishing. Then many people are dying through the cold winter moons.”

  “Yes, I know that.” He had a hard time recognizing his own voice. “But what can you do? How can you change it?” A meaningless question, just to take his mind off the memory of the dim, smoke-filled corridor with the dying fires, the groans of his mother filling his ears, the stench of the blood and some other discharges penetrating his nostrils with every breath, smoke stinging his eyes, coughing too, fighting the nausea, dizzy, but not dying, not like his brother.

  “Me? Well, alone, I cannot do much.” Apparently oblivious of his young companion’s agitation, Two Rivers shook his head. “But if the people were prepared to listen, to help, to cooperate, then we might manage to do something.”

  “How?”

  “Call the meeting of the nations and talk about all this.”

  “What?” Forgetting his own plight, Tekeni peered at the man, astounded. “You mean to talk to them? To talk to the enemy?”

  “Yes, to talk to those people who are not so different from us and who may not prove as evil as we think they are.” Two River’s hearty laughter shook the air as he turned around, openly amused. “You should see yourself now, boy. Eyes as round as two plates and the mouth to match, round and gasping. Have you seen a ghost? A forest giant?”

  “I…” He tried to collect his thoughts, embarrassed. “I don’t think they would want to talk.”

  “Well, until we try we would never know, would we?” Another bout of hearty laughter. “Well, wolf cub, let us go back to our camp, to rest and prepare our plans for tomorrow. We don’t have all the time in the world. Two, three dawns and I want us to sail back. This restful journey is a welcome diversion, but all good things must come to an end.” Turning around, he began descending the trail, still chuckling, enjoying himself.

  He must be truly insane, thought Tekeni, following, his thoughts in a jumble. To talk to the enemy, any enemy? What a thought!

  Chapter 10

  A gust of wind pounced out of nowhere, scattering the carefully tucked pile of husks, sending them rustling all over the place. Stifling a curse, Seketa tried to push them back together without getting up, the tip of her moccasin proving not as effective as her hands would have been.

  “I told you we should have put them in a basket,” said one of the girls, frowning at the mess.

  “Then do it,” Tindee’s eyes flashed as she tossed her head high. “Why are you staring at it? Pick up the husks and put them in a basket. You can use mine, if you want to.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t wait for anyone else to do it. It won’t happen.”

  “Why me?” muttered the girl angrily, yet as another glare flashed, she dropped onto her knees, collecting the wet leaves.

  “We are almost done here,” said Seketa, picking the last of the maize. She wiped her brow, then glanced at the sun. “I hope they are not planning to grind them today.”

  “Trust them to make us grind corn until the Father Sun goes to rest behind the western field.” Tindee held her half-naked cob at arm's length, frowning at it. “I’m so tired, I can barely see.”

  Seketa grinned against her will. “What’s new about that?”

  “Oh, nothing, nothing. Except that you missed a lot of good time while sleeping snugly between your blankets.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like good time, sister.” Stressing her last word, Tindee looked up, eyes flickering. “You seem to think that life is about work and ceremonies and nothing else. But you are wrong, you know? There is more to it than being the best behaved person in the whole town. You will turn into one of the Clan Mothers if you are not careful.”

  “And what is wrong with that?�
�� Now it was Seketa’s turn to frown. “What’s wrong with being a Clan Mother? Yes, I want to be in the Clan Council when my time comes. I want to influence things. I want to be involved. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You want to tell people what to do, that’s what you want.” Tindee’s laughter rang prettily as she ignored the glances of two youths who went by. Pushing her hair away with a self-conscious gesture, she stretched. “I wish we could just nibble on this maize ear, instead of grinding its seeds all day long. They should make us grind the second harvest of the white corn, not this one. The sweet green corn is a waste to make into flour.”

  “We still want to eat cakes and buns on the Green Corn Ceremony,” said one of the girls. “You can’t just nibble on raw maize through the days of the festivities.”

  “Yes, I can,” insisted Tindee. “If it means no grinding corn for the next few days, I’m prepared to go hungry.”

  “With so many of our men going out to raid the enemy lands instead of hunting, you may go hungry for quite a long time,” muttered one of the older women, sighing.

  Hunting!

  Seketa’s heart missed a beat, caught unprepared. For the past few days, she let no thought of adventures outside the town enter her mind, whether those of the warriors who had left five dawns ago, or those who went on wild hunting challenges. Every time she remembered the night of the War Dance, her stomach would twist, constricting violently, making her want to lean against something. To track a huge brown bear, to come against it face to face, a monster who was not afraid of the hunters, making their hunting grounds into his territory? Oh Mighty Spirits! A handful of seasoned men would dare to try such a feat. Even less would come back to tell their story. None of them youths of no experience!

  She clenched her teeth tight. It was impossible, unachievable, a plain waste of a life. He may have been just a wild foreign boy, but he had been a member of their town, now a Wyandot man, formally adopted. Unruly, short-tempered, but a good person too, with his shoulders nicely broad and his eyes large and sparkling. Not silly and not boring like the other boys. Proud, strange, fascinating, with even his accent pleasing the ear, and his fingers soft, hesitant, brushing against her cheek, confident and afraid at the same time.

  She shivered, then frowned against her rising anger. Why, why did Two Rivers have to be there on that fateful evening, seemingly helpful but not really! The fur of the killer-bear was worth more than five hides, more than ten hides even, but it was not worth this boy’s life, curse the damn man into the realm of the Evil Twin.

  “Stop dreaming, sister.” Tindee’s voice broke into her thoughts, welcomed against her bubbling anger. “It looks as though you’ve been sleeping not so well, after all.”

  “I’m not, I did not,” protested Seketa, feeling ridiculously guilty. “I slept well.”

  “Of course.” Her friend’s eyes sparkled suggestively. “You haven’t been thinking about stupid boys trying to hunt grizzled bears, have you?”

  As the other girls began to giggle, Seketa gasped, her anger splashing now with force that startled her more than it did her companions.

  “And what if I have? Does any of this concern you?” She glared at them, meeting their surprised gazes. “And he is not stupid, just so you know. He was offered a challenge, and he accepted it, like a great hunter and warrior should. He will come back, carrying the magnificent pelt and the claws, you just wait and see. And then you will be the ones feeling stupid, for doubting him and for saying bad things about him!” She sprang to her feet, snatching the heavy basket. “We are done here, aren’t we? We are doing nothing but gossiping now.”

  The silence behind her back hung as she stormed off, trying to walk proudly, with her back straight, despite the heavy basket. How dared they, those fat, stupid rodents! Sitting there so idly, laughing and saying silly things, accusing him of stupidity, when he had been so incredibly brave? What did they understand?

  Slowing her step, she dived into the shadow of the nearest longhouse, pausing to catch her breath. The fires beside the high wall were almost extinguished, but the dark embers still radiated heat, not helping one to feel cooler. With cooking usually done in the mornings, those fires were of no use through the hot summer afternoons.

  These days more than ever, she reflected. With the fruits of the first harvest picked, the women of the town were now too busy preparing for the second most important ceremony in all four seasons – the Green Corn Celebration. Shelling maize ears and grinding corn into flour was only a part of the frantic activity.

  Nearing the facade of the building, she paused again, putting her basket down and eyeing the glaring print it left on her palm. The stupid thing was really too heavy.

  Trying to improve her grip on the woven handle, she didn’t pay attention to the muffled voices, until they penetrated her mind, making her concentrate. Low and halting, they made her feel strange, as though she had been eavesdropping.

  “They won’t be back until the moon turns into a sliver. Ten dawns or more, I would say.”

  The man’s voice made Seketa wince as she recognized it, the well familiar voice of her cousin’s husband. He was healing well, she knew, feeling better, much better than he chose to present to the people of the town. There was no need to keep to his bunk in the longhouse anymore, still he didn’t go out, preferring to be pampered and fussed about, was Seketa’s private conclusion.

  “Maybe more.”

  “Not ten dawns surely.” The woman’s voice cut him sharply, impatient. “They received food for less than this period of time.”

  “And what does it tell you, sister?” Yeentso’s laughter rang hollowly, full of contempt.

  “It tells me that they have food for ten days only!” said the woman angrily.

  “Oh you, women, think that you can control us so easily, eh?” Another outburst of derisive laughter that made Seketa as angry as the woman sounded. “Well, they will use your food carefully, keeping the bag with the sweetened maize flour to the very end. They will eat it sparingly and will have no trouble staying away for whatever period they would feel fit. You, women, are too full of yourself. You think you can control us all the time. But it is not so.”

  There were a few heartbeats of furious silence.

  “I will bring this matter up on the next gathering of the Clans Councils,” said the woman in the end, voice shaking with rage. “I wonder what the Mothers of the Clans would say about this possibility taken into consideration before the raiding parties set off.”

  “They know. Of course, they know. They are not as simple as you are.” The man laughed again. “But let us not argue about this. If the raiding party comes late it will serve your goals well, will it not, sister? What are you up to?”

  Soundlessly, Seketa placed her basket upon the ground, wondering why she kept listening. It was not the decent thing to do, and she could not explain her lingering here if questioned, eavesdropping on the people of her longhouse.

  She stared at the basket, massaging her palm. She had every right to stop and rest. The damn thing was really too heavy.

  “Ten dawns, you say,” repeated the woman more calmly. “Well, it can be enough. Maybe.”

  “Enough for what?”

  Her voice filled with venom again. “Enough to make the disgusting troublemaker wish he had never been born.”

  Seketa caught her breath.

  “The boy?” asked Yeentso, seemingly as surprised. “Why would you hate him?”

  “Not the boy!” cried out the woman. “What would I care for the filthy cub? He is your problem, not mine.”

  “He is.” The growling tone in the man’s voice made Seketa shiver in the warm afternoon breeze.

  “And he is growing stronger as we speak. He’ll give you more trouble as the time comes.” The woman paused. “If he comes back having killed the beast, he will gain much admiration. He won’t be an insignificant cub anymore.”

  “He won’t kill the bear!”

  “With Two Rivers’ help
, who knows?” The woman’s voice rang contemplatively, and Seketa could imagine the well-defined eyebrows climbing high above the coldly sparkling eyes.

  She knew the woman well, a prominent member of the Porcupine Clan’s longhouse, a future member of this clan’s council for certain, always asked to organize sacred ceremonies and games, having been oh-so-very efficient and sharp-minded, married to a prominent man, and Yeentso’s only sister. A beautiful women, remembered Seketa, but a cold, unfriendly one. If you were sent to help her, you knew there would be no friendly treatment. And there was some sort of a scandal connected to her and no other than the notorious Two Rivers. Another brilliant mind bent on no good. She frowned.

  “And this is the man you are after, sister, aren’t you?” Yeentso’s voice brought her back from her reverie.

  “I’m not after anyone,” said the woman sharply. “But yes, I would love to see this man disgraced. He brings nothing but discord to our town. We would be better off without him.” More silence. “I spoke to my husband’s uncle in the Town Council.”

  “And?”

  “He is prepared to bring the matter up before his peers.”

  “What matter?”

  “Of Two Rivers’ cowardice and his way of avoiding doing his duty.”

  “Oh, the raid.”

  “Yes, the raid. He was among the chosen. He participated in the War Dance.” The woman’s voice shook. “His excuse not to come along was laughable. The bear hunting, I ask you? Chaperoning a stupid boy of no significance? Does he think this town’s people have no eyes to see and no minds to speak?”

  “The War Chief agreed. He gave the man his blessing to do so. He even praised him for his willingness to help the boy.”

  “Oh, please!” Her voice peaked again. “I was there. I saw it all. Two Rivers was the one to suggest it in the first place, and he put it in the way the stupid boy could not have refused without losing his face forever. He tricked them all. The War Chief, of all people, should have seen through him, but he did not. He always liked the man.” She paused again. “But it is not so with the Town Council, or with the leading people of some clans. Two Rivers is nothing but a nuisance, and the councils know it. He’ll bring our settlement, our whole nation, no good.”