Two Rivers

by Zoe Saadia

  “It’s worse!” she stated, suddenly angry. “I would let people hurt me, even kill me, if I could spare him all the pain.”

  “Don’t say that,” he said helplessly, then regretted his words as her gaze grew angrier, flashing out of the darkness.

  “I can say whatever I like. He was my cousin, my favorite cousin. He was my friend.” She glared at him, fighting the sobs. “He was not your friend or a person of your clan. You have no family, so you don’t know how it is. You don’t know how it feels to lose someone close, really close.”

  He felt it like a punch in his stomach. Clenching his teeth against the old, familiar pain, feeling it as though someone were squeezing his entrails with a stony fist, he stared back at her, unable to speak.

  “What? Why are you staring at me like that?” she demanded, her eyebrows creating a single line beneath the clearness of her forehead. “Iraquas was not your friend or family.”

  “No, he was not,” he said, finding it difficult to control his voice and not caring about it. “But I do know how it feels to lose someone close. Better than you!”

  She gasped and the fringes of her dress jumped angrily as she drew a deep breath. “Better than me? You have no family, and you don’t care about the people who adopted you.” Her eyes sparkled fiercely. “And anyway, no one of the Wolf Clan died. It’s the Turtle and Beaver Clan people who are mourning. But why would you care about them?”

  “Oh, yes, I don’t care!”

  He jumped onto his feet, seeing her doing the same, while the wind tore at them, as angry as they were. Her hair fluttered across her face, obscuring it, but she made no movement to push it aside, her hands rigid along her body, her fists clenched.

  “Iraquas was my most favorite cousin, and he was a great man, great hunter, great warrior,” she breathed through her clenched teeth. “I loved him more than anyone!”

  He said nothing, too enraged to speak.

  “If they adopt someone to take his place and his name,” she went on, almost screaming now. “I will not accept this person, no matter whom it would be. I will not recognize this adoption. He will not be my cousin, and I will never address this person by this name.”

  Oh, yes, that explained some things, he thought randomly, clenching his teeth against his own fury, forcing his limbs into stillness. No wonder many called him Wolf Clan boy, or just a wild boy, never addressing him by the name given to him upon his adoption. What was that name? He didn’t remember. He hated that name too, not accepting it any more than those others did, always thinking about himself by his old name, his people’s name, or the shorten version of it given to him by his own family. Tekeni – Two, one of the two, a twin brother.

  “I will not accept his death,” she was saying. “No matter what they say in the condolence ceremony.”

  “You have no choice,” he said tiredly, sorry for finding her. He would have been better off sleeping snugly on his bunk in the Wolf Clan longhouse.

  She glared at him from under her brow. “Yes, I do. One always has a choice, if one is prepared to take the consequences. Everyone has a choice.”

  “That’s what you think now.” He studied her in the fading moonlight, so slender and graceful, so beautiful, even with her face puffy and her hair messed. So naive. What did she know about life? “One does not always have choices, and you better not make your people angry by resisting your clan’s will. You may not like the consequences.”

  She pressed her lips tight. “Oh, and you know all about resisting your clan’s will, don’t you?”

  He shrugged, glancing back at the shelter the narrow corridor of poles provided. What were they doing here in the cold, arguing about stupid things?

  She suppressed another sob. “You can’t tell me what to do, as though you know better. You are of my age, and you are anything but the most esteemed member of the community.”

  She took a step forward and stood next to him, challenging, looking anything but the strict, always groomed and well-behaved girl she was. He stared at her, speechless.

  “Why aren’t you saying something?” she demanded, her voice beginning to tremble again. “Tell me more about how I should be behaving. You know all about the proper ways, don’t you?”

  He could almost feel her, so close she stood, and he clenched his fists tight against the urge to grab her shoulders. To shake her back into sanity, or maybe, to press her to his chest and take some of her pain away.

  He watched her twisted face, remembering the words of the condoling song - wipe away the tears, cleanse your throat so you may speak and hear, restore the heart to its right place, and remove the clouds from the sun in the sky. Would it help to tell her any of this now?

  “You should go back and join the ceremonies,” he said tiredly. “They will know the right words to tell you.”

  “And you?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Can’t you tell those words to me now?”

  The knot tightening in his throat was difficult to swallow this time. “No, I can’t. I don’t know these words.” He took a deep breath. “My father refused to listen when it was his time to grieve, so I didn’t listen, too.”

  She peered at him wide-eyed. “You lost your mother,” she whispered, making it a statement.

  He shrugged, finding it safer to keep his lips pressed tight.

  “Oh!” She reached out, touching his face lightly. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  Her fingers were like a soft breeze, brushing against his face, sending shivers down his spine.

  “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen, I saw fifteen summers.” He heard his voice low but firm, and it pleased him.

  “Fifteen summers?” She leaned back, studying his face, her eyes narrow and attentive. “But it was when you… when you came here. You were fifteen summers old, weren’t you?”

  He just shrugged, wishing to talk about anything but this.

  “So it happened just before that.” Another firm statement. She was coming to her conclusions fast. “And your father? What happened to him?”

  “Forget it,” he said, this time his voice wavering, dangerously close to breaking. “Nothing happened to anyone. I don’t remember my previous life. It never happened.”

  But her palm was again sliding down his cheek, warm and dry, her fingers lingering, barely touching, but leaving their prints nevertheless. He could draw the lines where they passed, he knew.

  “I’m sorry. I should never have said what I said before. But I do feel your sadness now. I can feel it so clearly, and I wish I could take this burden away.”

  Her face shone at him, beautiful in a breathtaking way, ethereal, but also belonging to a human girl, its warmth tangible, within an arm's reach. She was no uki. The warmth of her body told him this.

  His hands came up on their own accord, taking hold of her shoulders, pulling her closer, desperate to feel her warmth, that wonderful, kind, supporting glow that her whole being seemed to radiate, taking the edge of the desperation away, softening it, making it possible to deal with.

  She did not resist, but kept peering at him, almost the same height as he was, wide-eyed, surprised. He stared into her face, mesmerized. Her lips were slightly opened, as though expectant. He just had to taste them, no matter what.

  It was like lightning in the middle of the storm, those fierce flashes of energy going through his body, setting it on fire. Her lips parted, soft and pleasant, pressing to his, making the fire so much worse, the storm impossible to control, his limbs weak, his body drained of power but invincible too, relishing the feel of her body against his, demanding to have more of her warmth.

  Another heartbeat of this and she turned her face away, trying to break free from his embrace, but although knowing that he had to let her go, his arms went rigid around her, not responding to the feeble attempts of his mind to take control.

  She pushed him away again, but just as he managed to unlock his arms, she leaned forward, and he felt her arms sneaking around him, hurting the c
uts upon his chest, facing him again, eyes shining, their glow stronger now, the eyes of a Sky Woman.

  “We shouldn’t do it,” she whispered, her breath brushing against his face. “It’s not right.”

  He just nodded, unable to form words, feeling his mind going blank again. This time the kiss was even fiercer, the largest thunderstorm since the beginning of time, since the earth had been created by water animals and birds.

  He stared at her, breathing heavily, seeing the uncertainly in her eyes, and the fear.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know we should not.”

  Another impossible attempt to let her go. If only she would help. But instead, she leaned against him heavily, as though having no power left, too. If he took a step back, she might fall, he thought randomly.

  The wind swirled around them, in a fiercer mood than before. He felt her shivering, and it gave him strength to pull them both into the protective screen behind the poles.

  “The Master of the Winds is angry,” she whispered, then giggled and nestled against his chest, seemingly comfortable under the protection of his arms, her fear and uncertainty gone. “He thinks it’s wrong, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose.” He tried to concentrate, her nearness disrupting his thoughts. It was not funny. He needed all his strength to just hold her, to keep his arms from wandering her body, and it made him angry, somehow.

  As if sensing his tension, she hesitated, then slipped out of his arms, light and pliant, again in perfect control. Leaning against the opposite row of poles, she regarded him with a glittering glance.

  “It was insane, wasn’t it?”

  He just nodded, his disappointment vast. To hold her close, even if not allowed to do more, was better than to have her standing on the other side of the corridor.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “No.”

  He could feel her searching gaze, peering at him through the darkness.

  “Yes, you are.” She took a step forward and was again close enough for him to see the outline of her delicate face. “There are things people are not supposed to do unless they are older and want to live together. I know some boys and girls are doing it anyway, but this is wrong, you see? This is silly and not appropriate. Don’t you think?”

  He shrugged. “I was not trying to get you into doing anything. It just happened.”

  “But you’ve been looking for me?” She was not smiling anymore, and her sincerity made him feel dirty, guilty of every crime possible, most of all of trying to seduce her.

  “No, I wasn’t! I was on my way out. I would never think that you, or anyone else, would be hiding here, of all places.”

  “I was not hiding here. I just wanted to be alone.” She frowned. “And why would you go out at night? It doesn’t make sense.”

  He said nothing, watching her, his heart still pounding.

  “You are not telling me the truth.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then tell me why?”

  “I was looking for Two Rivers.”

  “Oh.” All of a sudden, she looked disappointed, offended even. “At night? Outside? You are talking nonsense.” Impatiently, she shook her head. “What do you want with this man, anyway?”

  “I needed to tell him something.” He pressed his lips, hating the acute sensation of being guilty, as though caught doing something wrong. “He is a good man. He was kind to me. There is nothing wrong in seeking his company.”

  “He is not a good man. He is responsible for what happened to our warriors.”

  “What? He is not!”

  “Of course he is. He participated in the War Dance, then did not join the raid. It brought the wrath of the Evil Twin and his minions upon our men. Those who were brave enough to join, that is.”

  He gasped at the wildness of her accusation. “He is a brave man. And he didn’t join because he wanted to help me hunt the bear.”

  “Which he made you challenge in the first place,” she stated, tossing her head to banish the tendrils fluttering across her face. “He made you risk your life in order to avoid going with our warriors. He used you. Can’t you see it?”

  He peered at her, aghast. “He didn’t use me. He helped me! He helped me to gain respect of the people, to make them treat me differently. He said it would happen, and it did. Maybe not your clan, but the people of my clan are respecting me now.”

  “That is because you did a very brave thing. You killed the grizzled brown bear, and from a short distance, too. Of course they respect you now, as they ought. You proved your worth.” She leaned closer and was facing him again, eyes frowning. “You did it and not him. He just made you take the challenge, and then he came along, to see what would happen. That’s all he did. This man is strange, and he cares about no one but himself and his strange, perverted ideas.”

  “No, Seketa, no. You are wrong.” He threw his arms in the air, as though trying to push away her accusations. “He is none of this. He guided me all the way, explaining and teaching me. He taught me so many things! And yes, his ideas are strange, but maybe he is right about them, too. When you talk to him, some of what he says makes sense.”

  “He made you go after that bear, a youth of seventeen summers,” she said stubbornly, eyeing him under her eyebrows. “It is unheard of. You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t, I wasn’t killed. I killed the bear instead, and I would never have managed without him. It was such a huge monster, you should have seen it. Twice a man’s height and so wide and old and angry. And stinking, too. Oh gods, it had such a foul smell.” He took a deep breath, his stomach squeezing at the mere memory. “I would never have managed but for Two Rivers and the things he taught me while we were preparing the trap. He told me so much. And he believed in me, too. He knew I would manage, and I’m telling you, it gave me more strength.”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How did it feel to face the monster? Weren’t you afraid?”

  “It was not that bad.” For the life of him, he could not admit the deep, paralyzing fear he'd felt, its memory painfully fresh, squeezing his insides. “They don’t see well, so I could dash here and there, and shoot at my leisure. Maybe if this bear were younger, more agile, I would need to work harder, but with this one, it was not much of a challenge.”

  Now even her mouth was opened and gaping. “Was it not scary at all?”

  “No, not really.” He smiled smugly. “It’s just the matter of a good shot and then some playing around. I probably should have gone on shooting it, but I thought it would be amusing to finish the fight face-to-face, to give the old giant an honorable death.” He eyed her, feeling superior and very pleased with himself. “Two Rivers said it was quite a sight. He said he hadn’t seen anything like that, ever. And not anyone he knew of.”

  Now he had taken it too far. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed, challenging.

  “He did claw you,” she said. “Quite tore at your chest.”

  Involuntarily, he brought his palm up, feeling the crusts. “Well, yes, of course. He was not a rabbit.”

  “So it was not such an easy fight,” she stated, triumphant, as though proving him wrong.

  “Well, no. But it was not that difficult either.” Angry with himself for letting his pride show, he shrugged. “There is no shame in bearing these marks. I did kill him face-to-face, and that’s what matters.”

  She acknowledged it with a nod. “Yes, of course.” Then her eyes lost their challenging glint. “I asked the Great Spirits to keep you safe. I made an offering when it was the third day of your journey.”

  “You did?” His stomach tightened so strongly, he found it difficult to breathe. “Why?”

  Now it was her turn to shrug as she turned away, peering into the darkness of the corridor behind their backs.

  He moved closer, desperate to feel her warmth. “What did you offer?”

  “There was this bracelet,” she whis
pered shyly, but he could hear a smile in her voice. “It was small, and I never wore it anyway.”

  His heart was making strange leaps inside his chest, tossing itself against his ribs. “The Great Spirits liked it. They gave me great victory, and now I know why.” Unable to keep his hands from doing this, he put them around her shoulders. “I wish I could let you know how grateful I am.”

  “It was not my offering,” she said, and he could feel her shuddering under his touch. “It was your bravery and your determination.”

  “No. I was not brave. I lied before. I was too scared to shoot at it until it was very close.”

  She giggled. “I would think so. I don’t know any hunter who would challenge the great grizzled bear face-to-face.” Still chuckling, she turned back and faced him, so close again he could feel her breath upon his face. “But it doesn’t matter. You went to hunt the forest giant, and you killed it in a close duel, like no other man of our town. You are brave, and you are strong and determined. Even if you do know what fear is.” Her smile beamed at him through the darkness. “I’m glad I offered the bracelet. Next time, I’ll offer something more precious. The first time you go in a battle I’ll offer my most precious of possessions.”

  The knot in his throat was difficult to swallow. “Will you?” He swallowed again, hearing his voice coming out strange, low and distorted. “Will you be my woman when I've proved myself, when I’m good enough to ask your Clan Mothers?”

  She seemed to stop breathing too, her eyes large and glimmering, sparkling strangely. Even the wind stopped shrieking, pausing, trying to hear better. The spirits, uki and the glorious night deities, were listening, their curiosity great.

  He counted his heartbeats, one, two, and then five more. She didn’t move, didn’t make an attempt to escape his arms. She just stood there, frozen like a stone. It was a strange feeling to hold her like that, her nearness sending waves of warmth alongside his body, her silence freezing his spirit.

  He forced his arms off her shoulders. “You don’t have to say ‘yes’.”