by Cassie Wolf
“Yes,” Pazade said and pointed to the one in question. “We try to save the children to become one of our own but sometimes they get caught in the fighting.”
“What if it is someone seeking help?”
“There is a difference between stumbling through the jungles for help and screaming throat calls with a spear in hand. Each one of these brought even their young here to pillage, to raze, to abduct.” Pazade kissed one of painted wooden beads around his neck and picked up his pace. “All we can do is try to save the innocent and raise them with better ideals of the world around them.”
Atsu nodded. He found over the days that his admiration for the Chief was growing stronger and his words made more sense to him than what Inari had taught him. Some might have read the tribe as a soft touch but Atsu could see it was more than that. It was about giving chances to those who fall before you, to see what they could become and if they would blossom with the right words of encouragement. If not, then they would be punished by the Gods when their time came.
The floor beneath their feet turned to soft soil, cooling against the steamy heat of summer. Trees were scarce but the ones left were enormous in height, with swooping vines trailing to the ground. Atsu even had quick glimpses of spider monkeys running across their branches with plump fruits protectively in their grip while others swung in place by their tails.
At the end of the path, the deep dark browns of a log wall came in sight. Double the size of a healthy man in height, the walls appeared to drag on forever either side and Atsu could just about make out the shapes of some of the roofs behind it. As they walked closer, he saw dips in the fence which supported watch towers on the top, each with a warrior equipped with one of their carefully-crafted bows.
“It’s big,” Atsu mumbled, trying to hide how impressed he actually was.
“Of course it is. It’s been here for generations and we don’t close off our society to our brothers and sisters who have deemed themselves trustworthy,” Pazade said as they approached the gates. He nodded to the warriors in the towers who quickly pulled at a rope and a wheel either side.
Atsu winced at the sound as the doors scratched across the floor, slowly opening to reveal the new haven he would reside in for the rest of his life.
The village itself was indeed incredibly spacious. The wide path leading up the centre had stalls either side, most of whose goods didn’t look all that impressive. Common meats, vegetables, furs and clothes crafted by apprentices rather than masters made up the bulk of the stock near the entrance. The large huts behind the stalls surprised Atsu. In Blood-and-Shadow, most huts were only a quarter of their size at most, whereas each and every single one he saw here appeared to have more than two rooms. And as they walked on, the huts and stalls seemed to only improve in quality and size.
People nodded low in the direction of the Chief and his warriors as they passed but none of them had fear in their eyes as they did. The women weren’t on leads or collars. In fact, they worked on the stalls. Some of the males were crafting out in the open, carving basic wood into majestic weapons with intricate details or tanning animal skins. Some were cooking over open fires with sharing pots for those who passed, and were laughing and joking with one another.
While the warriors had been travelling, they wore thick leather armour from head to toe, covering even most of their faces, but it had no designs like those the Blood-and-Shadow had worn. Instead, it was just plain. When Atsu asked Pazade about it, he told him it was because he didn’t want the fighters’ balance to change in the slightest for the sake of decoration. They were trained to fight, not to be admired like art. Atsu had believed it was travelling gear but when they entered the village, he saw most of the males wore the same attire, despite the humid heat.
Most of the tribe’s females wore very little clothing but it was still more than those from the Shadow who were made to crawl with a leather collar wrapped around their neck. The women mostly wore long fur skirts down to their feet with their upper bodies naked except for the tribal paint and piercings on their bodies. Some of them had slings around their necks and inside Atsu could see the sweet innocent faces of infants fast asleep or wide-eyed at the world around.
Atsu could barely believe the village he had arrived in. To think he would become one of these happy souls with families, laughing and joking with their brothers and sisters while eating shared food seemed far too good to be true. Even though he had spent time with Pazade to get to know him and dispel any suspicions he had about his ways, he could barely believe that the Chief would willingly bring him back here and give him a life. The further they went in, the more warriors broke off to greet their mates and families until only a couple remained to escort them to the hut at the top.
The Chieftain’s hut was magnificent and breathed an aura of authority as it towered over its people. It was circular and as high as the secure walls around the village perimeter. The beams supporting the roof held gatherings of skulls, much like the ones in the jungle except bearing complicated designs in red and white colours. Above the entrance was a large animal skull, a wildcat with feathers pointing out of its top and beads which dangled down over the entrance. Unlike Jasari’s hut, this one appeared from the outside to have its extra rooms connected under one roof and didn’t have any spaces like windows to allow intruders inside so easily.
Just as Pazade gave the signal to open the doors, a young tribesman came jogging up the path behind with a wrapped piece of leather in hand. Atsu turned around and waited as he expected him to hand it to the Chief but instead the messenger shook his head and placed it in Atsu’s palm.
“Witch doctor Inari… message after you left,” the young male stammered and walked away at Pazade’s signal.
Atsu blinked at the leather and turned to the Chief. “I can’t read.”
The chubbier daughter stepped forward and snatched it from him before uncurling it in her own hands. “Someone called Masi said to never return, she is happy where she is and you died to her the moment you accepted another’s colours.” The girl shrugged and passed back the leather before walking past.
Atsu bit down on his lip and closed his eyes with a sigh. She was angry and he had known she would be, but to say she was happy where she was he knew was a barefaced lie. She had never been happy there, no matter what lies Jasari had been filling her head with.
Pazade headed in as well while Jocelin stepped forward and took his hand in hers. “Your sister?”
Atsu opened his eyes and gave a forced smile, trying to hide any pain from the words he had been given. “Yes. She is hurting I left.”
“I can imagine. If it was just you two for years it will be hard for her to accept but with time, I am sure she will understand and be happy for you.” Jocelin rubbed her fingers over his knuckles. “And maybe we can go back for her one day, but for now Atsu, we need to get you settled here first before you can even think about the past.”
He turned his head away and tucked the letter beneath his waistband. “I guess.” He eyed the surroundings and ran his fingers over her mask before taking a deep breath. “Where do I go now?”
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT -
When Masika awoke in the early hours of the morning, the aggressive sickness which had been draining all her energy was sure to greet her once more. The smell of the early morning butchers and cooks in the stalls, once mouth-watering, now made her stomach twist and turn until she vomited to the point where her ribs ached and her stomach shook with weakness.
Her young garasum knocked on the door with her morning breakfast, but just as on the previous few days she left them on the table before rushing to Masika’s side with a cup full of water and to rub her back.
Masika glanced up at her, her eyes barely open and legs shaking like jelly as she sipped on the fluid. The soothing coolness down her throat gave her relief, even if only for a moment. But this morning was one of the rare times she managed to keep it down.
The garasum went to get her clothes
for the day and then helped her to her feet and placed the dress over her. She had to tug to fit it over Masika’s breasts.
“You might need to ask Jasari for new clothing,” the young garasum said as she did a final pull to bring the dress down to the knees.
Masika smiled weakly and tied the final laces at the front before sitting back down promptly. Resting her head in her hands, she sighed and peeked an eye at the young girl. Her own rags swamped her skinny frame. Masika had started to share her early morning meals with her. This morning, it was a frothy soup with chopped tomatoes and onions on the surface and traces of soft pork below. The pair shared it at the table with deep wooden spoons and a chunk of freshly baked bread, full of grains and seeds, snapped in pieces for them to dip.
“You have been here all your life,” Masika said as she finished her own share, as much as she could possibly eat with her stomach busting, “and now I will be here too for the rest of mine. I don’t even know what to call you.”
The garasum shoved another spoonful in her mouth, some dribbling down the side of her lips with eagerness. “I am not to be called by name. I serve you, Masika.”
“I wouldn’t call you it in front of Jasari or anything. But at times like this, it does not sit right with me to click my fingers and you come running. I would like to know your name; your mother must have given you one.”
The young girl wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and gave a tired smile. She placed down the spoon and sighed. “If you must know, my name is Kanzi. That was her name. She never got to name me herself before the gods took her so the other garasums did.”
Masika lowered her eyes to the near-empty bowl before them in the awkward silence. She didn’t know where she had believed Kanzi’s mother to be but she never imagined she would be dead. “I’m sorry you lost her.”
“There is nothing to be sorry for, Masika. My life would still have been the same. I would still be serving in this hut only I would have had another woman bring be me up and teach me how to clean and cook.” Kanzi slurped the last few dregs.
Looking at her raven locks, Masika found that her curiosity only grew. “Do you know who your father is?”
Kanzi flinched as though she had sucked on an incredibly bitter fruit and pursed her lips. “I’ve been given different stories about who it could be. Some say a warrior was in love with my mother, others say he forced himself upon her. There are even rumours that we actually all came from Jasari, when he ruled with a tyrannical hand.”
“Tyrannical hand?”
“Yes. The older women told me that years ago he lost his mind and many believed he was under his witch sister’s spell. He beat many garasums terribly, many of whom died at the time, but they were all placed inside a mass grave and it was forbidden to speak of it again.” As she said it, Kanzi glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure no one else was in the room with them.
Masika gave her a reassuring smile. “I won’t repeat what you have told me, Kanzi. Don’t worry. I barely speak to Jasari and even Dia… Though I have been bathing him, he hasn’t improved much in health.”
The pair continued to converse, speaking of the Chieftain’s sisters and how vile they were to look at, let alone their souls as dark as the night sky. Eventually, Kanzi picked up the pile of dirty clothes and went to leave. Upon opening the door, she jumped to find the masked Inari standing there in his eerie, grinning mask.
“Is Masika awake?” he asked.
“Yes I am, Inari. You may come in,” Masika said.
Kanzi shut the door on the way out as Inari swept past her and sat in her seat. Pulling off the mask, he eyed Masika across the table and twiddled his thumbs. “I came to see if your sickness has soothed.”
She sighed and sat back on the chair, shaking her head. “No. I am growing concerned, Inari, I must say.”
“What is concerning you?”
Masika bit down on her lip and glanced over to the bucket she had come to know so well in the corner of the room. With a wince, she cradled her ribs and looked back into Inari’s caring eyes. If there was anyone she could trust now, it would be him. Even Kanzi could easily be captured and tortured until she confessed everything Masika told her; it was the reason she kept most issues close to her chest.
“I haven’t bled yet.”
The witch doctor sighed, but surprisingly, he didn’t appear to be fazed by what she had said. “How long has it been?”
The young girl shrugged and counted on her fingers the days and nights which had passed since the last time. Unlike most of the tribe’s women, she had always bled on time with a moon cycle no matter how malnourished, sometimes even to the exact time of day. “Two days late. I have never been late before.”
Inari leant forward and rested his hand on his chin. “Hmm. Well, you could be with child but you have been through a lot of stress recently. I must say, you are handling this well if that’s what it is.”
“Because I know if it is, you can deal with it,” she said bluntly.
Instantly, the doctor sat up straight and frowned. “What do you mean?”
Masika could see the anger on his face; he had never been one able to hide it well. It was extremely rare to get him to even frown, most of the time he was so calm. She found herself chewing on her nails and mumbling her words. “It’s not Dia’s, we both know that. There is no way it can be born. Surely you must have a potion, brew or a pill… Anything to… take care of it.”
His cheeks flushed red and the veins at his temples bulged. “I have nothing like that. Even if I did, killing your child?!”
She knew she would regret the words the moment they slipped out of her mouth but it was the only reason she wasn’t panicking over it. She had seen him make potions and pills for all manner of things over the years and she knew for a fact he could do something to stop women carrying children. In her mind, what she was asking was no different. “I just assumed that…”
“You assumed wrong! I won’t kill your unborn! No matter the circumstances, Masika… I could only imagine what your mother would say to you to ask me to do such a thing!” Inari went to stand.
Masika threw herself over the table and pulled on his sleeve. “Inari don’t! Please! Don’t walk out on me! They will kill it the moment it’s born! You know they will! This is no different than that, it just stops it from ever suffering.”
Nostrils flaring, he picked up his mask and shook off her hand. “The Gods wanted you to have it. If they want it to be killed for punishment, it will happen.”
With widened eyes, Masika ran around the table and grasped onto his robes once more, pulling and tugging on the material as the rage swelled inside her. “I have seen women come to you when they don’t want a child! Please Inari… I beg of you, I can’t carry this!”
“The women who have come to me have wanted something to stop the chance of it happening. Believe it or not, their circumstances are far worse than yours, Masika! They are dragged naked through the streets by a lead held by brothers who are supposed to be their protectors. You are clothed, you are fed, you are bathed. I will be there for you for the term but only when you accept this for what it is!” With another shake, Inari pushed her off and swiftly walked out the door, slamming it shut.
Masika stared at the wood, as if waiting for him to pop back and tell her he understood what she was going through. But after a while, she realised he wasn’t coming back. The tears and anxiety crept back and the nausea came with them. Gagging, she ran over to the bucket and let it all out, her cheeks damp and sticky from crying.
She looked at the luxury which surrounded her. Was she such a bad person to not want to be here? To not want to carry her brother’s child, just to watch it be killed the moment it was born? She had seen the women Inari spoken of daily, nothing but bags of bones and skin with bruises head to toe from daily beatings. They didn’t want their children to be brought up into that life, but she knew hers could be more dangerous and torturous.
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE -
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The instant the doors to the Chieftain’s hut opened, Atsu wasn’t surprised by the magnificence beyond. The lengthy, narrow hallway was covered with trophies. Weapons of ivory, silver and even wood intricately carved by craftsmen all of which he expected had an incredible history behind how they ended up mounted on the walls. After every few would be a tapestry or painted skins most of whose pictures showed warriors wearing a skull helmet and bearing a sharpened spear. One which Atsu felt drawn to almost immediately was the depiction of a Chieftain on the back of a fierce lion with its pride following behind. The rest of the trophies were mainly animal skulls, those who were known to be hardest to catch and kill, with their razor sharp claws and glorious strength.
In the hall at the far end of the corridor stood the trokhosi which was every Chieftain’s pride and joy. Unlike its intimidating counterpart of the Shadow tribe, this one was much smaller in size. Like the outside pillars, it appeared to be predominantly made from skulls and bones joined together by thick straps, while the back was covered in an auburn and black striped fur, known to be the rarest and most difficult to attain within the rainforest. At the top of the seat was another animal skeleton with its jaws open set with decorations of multicoloured feathers to either side and strands of beads hanging down to wrap around each fierce jaw.
Pazade was already seated and speaking to a robed individual whose hood covered their face as Jocelin and Atsu approached.
Jocelin turned to Atsu and tugged on his arm. “I need to go see some people. I am sure my father will want to speak to you. Try to take your mind off your sister. I am sure it is just the heat of the moment.”
Atsu smiled weakly at her as she walked off and waited for the male speaking to the Chief to finish. After a few awkward moments standing on the spot, the stranger departed and Pazade motioned him forward.