The Dolorous Birthing (The Elephant and Macaw Banner - Novelette Series Book 9)

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The Dolorous Birthing (The Elephant and Macaw Banner - Novelette Series Book 9) Page 3

by Christopher Kastensmidt


  He launched the club high in the air and yelled, "Strike Oludara!"

  Oludara had only a second to react, and decided to raise his bow and shoot for the club. His shot passed just below it and the club came crashing down, snapping the borrowed bow in half. It then spun behind him. He turned to meet it just as it rushed into his chest and sent him sprawling through the camouflage and into the pit.

  Gerard and Cabwassu rushed down to help, but faired no better. Way-Krig ordered the club to batter them and one by one, sent them rolling into the pit beside Oludara.

  Way-Krig gave only a cursory glance into the pit before walking off, laughing.

  Gerard, his face more purple than white, said, "I think it is time to quit and head home."

  "I warned you," agreed Cabwassu.

  "No," Oludara said, furious. "I will not disgrace my child with failure."

  #

  Almost every part of Oludara ached from the beatings, but still he grinned as his enemy snored beneath him.

  They had caught Way-Krig during one of his customary afternoon naps. He slept against an unusual tree whose branches curved back and forth in a way Oludara had never seen. Instead of a typical crown, it looked more like a woven nest. The bow and club were nowhere to be seen, but Oludara had no doubt they were hidden nearby.

  Oludara looked to his two companions, who nodded. He nudged Way-Krig with his foot. With a final snort, Way-Krig stretched and opened his eyes. He jumped at the sight of the three men looking down at him.

  "I came for my son’s present," said Oludara, knife in hand.

  Way-Krig’s eyes grew at the sight of the knife and sweat formed on his forehead.

  "It’s in the tree!" he said.

  "Pull it out," said Gerard.

  "If you insist," said Way-Krig, reaching toward a hole in the tree. Oludara spotted him pursing his lips to hold back a grin.

  "Stop!" shouted Oludara. "It’s another of his tricks. He will turn the club upon us the moment he lays his hand upon it. Get back!"

  Way-Krig looked longingly toward the hole, opened his mouth as if to say something, then held his head down and backed away. To Oludara’s delight, all signs of a grin had disappeared.

  Oludara reached into the hole. He dug around, feeling for the bow, when he felt movement around his arm. In the next instant, pain shot through him. He screamed and ripped his hand from the hole, a horde of wasps flowing out behind it.

  The wasps surrounded him and his companions, stinging them without remorse. Way-Krig had cleverly scooted around to the other side of the tree, where he recovered the bow and club from a different hole. He tossed the club in the air and shouted, "Strike Oludara, Gerard and Cabwassu!"

  Oludara and the others stumbled for a nearby stream under the relentless attack of the wasps and club. When they finally made it, they collapsed into the water.

  After staying under as long as possible, the three surfaced to find the wasps had left. Cabwassu’s parrot sat in a squat tree and Way-Krig, club and bow in hand, looked down on them from the edge of the lake.

  "I’m beginning to think the three of you enjoy these beatings," he said. Then he added, more seriously, "It has been funny pounding you three fools, but the game is starting to lose its delight. If you come after me again, I’ll use the bow. And you know what happens then, don’t you, bird?"

  "I’ll chew the meat from your bones!" it said.

  "Right," said Way-Krig. Then he strode off, not bothering to look back.

  Oludara began to crawl after him, but Gerard and Cabwassu held him back.

  "It’s over," said Gerard. "He has bested us three times. It’s time to get back to Arany."

  "We defeated Massone and Kooka," said Cabwassu. "There is no need to be ashamed."

  Oludara, pain flaring through every part of his body, clawed his way forward, even as his friends struggled against him.

  "This isn’t over," he said. "There is no ‘nearly’ catching a rabbit. You can’t cook a ‘nearly’ in a stew."

  At that moment, an arrow pounded into the ground, inches from his nose. The powerful strike threw dirt in his face--and snapped his will.

  He dropped his head in resignation.

  #

  When they reached the village, Cabwassu departed with a wave and Gerard and Oludara continued on toward their longhouse.

  Gerard worried for his friend. The return trip had been long and lonesome--three weeks to feel the ache of their wounds and think upon their defeat. Hardly a word had been spoken, except by the parrot, which had jeered at them the entire way. Even Cabwassu had stopped laughing at its antics.

  The few times Oludara had spoken, he voiced concerns over the terrible things which could go wrong with the birth of his baby, its tiny body deformed by the failure of the father. Gerard had tried to assuage him, but to no avail. Now, entering the village, Oludara’s anxiety seemed to triple.

  "Don’t worry," said Gerard. "Everything will be fine."

  "Our failure does not bode well for the birth of my boy," replied Oludara.

  "That’s just superstition."

  "What if she loses the child? What if she lost it three weeks ago? Will you still call it superstition?"

  "Quit anguishing over it and go find out."

  "Hey!" screeched a voice beside them.

  They turned to see Sacy-Perey beside them, grinning broadly.

  "Where have you two been?" he asked.

  Oludara scowled and Gerard shook his head, advising against taking the subject any further.

  "Well, what are you standing out here for?" continued Sacy. "Don’t you want watch the birth? I’ve always been curious what they’re like."

  Oludara’s eyes grew wide and he rushed to the longhouse, Gerard following closely behind. They entered to find Arany squatting near the ground, surrounded by women. No one even blinked when Sacy hopped in; they had grown accustomed to his frequent, annoying visits. As the women held Arany, she grunted and pushed the baby. She opened her eyes between pushes and spotted Oludara.

  "What happened to your face?" she asked. They still bore scabs and welts from their encounter with Way-Krig.

  "That story can wait," said Oludara, kneeling behind her and gripping her firmly.

  After a few more pushes, the baby’s head appeared. The baby’s dark skin contrasted with Arany’s tan complexion, and the child let out a healthy bellow which made Oludara smile. After a few more pushes, the child came out into the waiting arms of the women. Oludara peeked back and forth over Arany’s shoulders, searching with terrified eyes for some defect. The child lacked nothing, except for the one organ Oludara had most wanted to see: the one which would have marked the child as a boy. Gerard could see the disappointment on his face.

  "She’s beautiful!" said Sacy, with a type of reverence Gerard had never before heard in his voice.

  At the mention of the word ‘she’, Arany’s gaze shot to Oludara. She didn’t seem at all pleased with what she saw there.

  One of the women held the girl up to Oludara’s face. "It is custom for the father to chew through the cord with his teeth," she said.

  Even Oludara, normally comfortable with the strangest of Tupinambá customs, flinched at the request.

  "Just cut it," Arany said through clinched teeth.

  Without a word, Gerard rummaged through his pack and removed a knife. Oludara accepted it with a nod and cut the cord. Several of the women took up the baby and left the longhouse with her. Sacy, his eyes still wide with amazement, bounded out after them.

  "Where do they go?" asked Gerard.

  Arany opened her eyes and replied weakly, "They go to the river for washing." She looked back at her husband. "How is our child?" she asked.

  Oludara paused before replying, "Healthy."

  Gerard was worried how his friend would react, but letting out that one word seemed to relieve him.

  With a sigh, he repeated, "Healthy."

  He sat beside Arany and cradled her in his arms.

  "Ha
ve you thought of a name?" she asked.

  "Yes," he said, "but not one which fits. I think you should choose."

  Arany, still resting against Oludara’s chest, could only shake her head and sigh.

  #

  The next day, Gerard found Oludara and Arany laying side by side in their hammock, cradling Taynah between them. A pile of crudely woven objects of all shapes and sizes lay beneath them.

  "Hello!" said Gerard. "What are all these things?"

  "Sacy keeps popping in and leaving these," said Arany. "He’s quite fond of Taynah."

  "Taynah? So you’ve chosen a name then?"

  "Yes," said Arany. "It means ‘shining star’. I will not have my child plagued with a foolish name like mine."

  "It is a beautiful name," said Gerard.

  "For a beautiful child," said Oludara, gently passing a finger over her.

  "Look how he dotes over her," said Arany. "Even though he still craves a son."

  "It has nothing to do with craving," said Oludara. "I must continue my line."

  "That story of continuing your line."

  "It is no story, it is my duty to my ancestors. In any case, it doesn’t matter. In less than two years, we’ll be back in Africa, where we can have a houseful of children."

  "If you go back to Africa," said Arany, "you go alone."

  Oludara appeared ready to explode, and both Gerard and Arany pulled back. However, at the last moment, he deliberately stood from the hammock, careful not to disturb Taynah, and strode off to the far side of the longhouse.

  Gerard looked at Arany, but she only shook her head and returned her attention to the baby.

  #

  As the days stretched on, Gerard’s worry for his companion grew. Tupinambá custom required the father to remain in his cabin until the baby’s umbilical stump fell out. Oludara dutifully followed this custom, however, when the cord fell out, he remained there, spending the days in his hammock. He spoke with no one, not even Arany.

  After a week of Oludara’s moping, Gerard decided to take action. It was not an easy choice for him. He had thought much upon their travels since the death of Father Miguel, and had lost most of his stomach for them. He had surely changed the future of the colony, for better or worse, though he knew not which. He had saved many, but perhaps doomed others. He had gained much fame, the whole reason he had come to Brazil. Now, he no longer knew if he wanted it.

  Nonetheless, he could not deny that Oludara had invited him on the quest for the bow to rescue him from his doldrums; he could do no less for his friend.

  Gerard dressed in the same clothes he had worn on the day the two of them first met, and went to stand beside Oludara’s hammock. Oludara did his best to pretend Gerard wasn’t there.

  "Taynah grows by the day, doesn’t she?" said Gerard.

  Oludara replied with a weak, distant, "Yes."

  "You needn’t worry about Kooka coming after her. Cabwassu and I spoke to Yandir of our journey, and he set wards around the village. Kooka can’t come near without him knowing. Leave witchcraft to fight witchcraft, fine by me."

  Oludara grunted in reply.

  "You should speak to Arany, she’s worried."

  Instead of answering, Oludara said, "I envy you sometimes, Gerard. You owe nothing to your ancestors; you’re free to go wherever you choose, do whatever you want."

  "We all owe our ancestors. We just choose to honor them in different ways."

  "That is right. I must return to Africa, and Arany must stay here. What have we done? Perhaps we should have never been married."

  "Don’t say that. You both followed your heart, and that is never wrong."

  Oludara didn’t seem convinced.

  "The problem is, you’re too much alike: stubborn as mules."

  At that, Oludara nodded in agreement.

  Gerard changed his tone, making his next statement like a command. "In any case, it is time to be off on our next journey."

  "Hmm?" Oludara replied.

  "You still owe me more than a year, remember?"

  "I suppose," said Oludara.

  "You know, someone once told me that ‘laziness is the partner of fatigue’. Ever heard it?"

  "Perhaps," said Oludara, without even a grin to acknowledge the reference.

  Gerard paused, unsure what to say, and to his surprise, Oludara filled the silence.

  "There was a time I thought we were invincible," said Oludara. "That no matter how great the task, we would find some way to surmount it."

  "So did I," Gerard agreed with a sigh. "That time is long past. We’re no longer as young or as foolish...but I believe we could still do much good."

  "Or much harm. Do you wish to add to our failures?"

  Oludara had put Gerard’s greatest fears into words, and it gave him pause. When he searched deep, however, he remembered the Tupiniquim children, and the town of Ilhéus, and the garrison at Rio de Janeiro, and so many others. When he thought on them, he finally found the answer.

  "I would sooner fail than not try!"

  Oludara’s eyes widened at Gerard’s spirited response. To Gerard’s relief, he stood up from the hammock and stretched his arms into the air.

  "I will think on it," he said.

  He walked from the longhouse and Gerard followed close behind.

  In the village center, they found Cabwassu cooking some meat on a spit. He looked up at them and flashed his demonic smile.

  "You look sad," Cabwassu said, looking at Oludara. He grabbed the spit from the fire and handed to him. "Eat some of this. It will make you feel better."

  Oludara took the spit and examined it. "What is it?"

  "It’s a dish I created," said Cabwassu. "I call it roasted, deserves-to-die parrot."

  Gerard and Oludara’s eyes looked to Cabwassu’s shoulder, where, indeed, the ever-present bird was gone. For the first time in a month, Gerard saw Oludara smile.

  "Yes," he said. "That would definitely make me feel better."

  #

  Gerard, pack filled and weapons by his side, waited for Oludara in the village center. Arany, Taynah suckling at her breast, approached him. He turned his eyes down in embarrassment.

  "You’re going off?" she asked.

  "Yes," he replied. "Oludara didn’t tell you?"

  "He has spoken to me little these last days."

  "I’m sorry," said Gerard.

  "No, it’s good you’re going away. There’s nothing worse than men getting in the way when a woman is trying to raise a baby."

  From the cracking in her voice and the way she looked away, Gerard was certain she didn’t mean it.

  After a long, awkward pause, Gerard said: "He’ll come around. The two of you are everything to him."

  "I hope so, because neither I nor my child have any place in Africa. She will stay with our tribe, same as I."

  Arany pulled the baby from her breast and held it in front of him.

  "Gerard, could you hold her for a moment while I relieve myself?"

  Gerard awkwardly cradled the baby and Arany headed off. He rocked Taynah back and forth, studying her. The child combined features from both her parents. The first dark hairs already curled upon her head. Her skin shone a dark brown, lighter than her father, but much darker than her mother. She looked up at Gerard with unfocused eyes as he rocked her.

  "Looks like everyone has their own expectations for you, Taynah," he said. "This is no easy world for a woman, but I hope you follow your own path. There is much that others will say you can’t do, but back in the Low Countries, the women study whatever they choose, and some are even soldiers in the war against Spain. I’ve met my share of women poets and pirates, and many who do a better job at it than men. Even mighty England is ruled by a fine queen. Kooka said there is greatness in you, and I don’t doubt it."

  Gerard jumped as Arany’s voice came from behind him.

  "Poets and pirates?" she said. "Don’t put such silly notions in her head, Gerard." She took the baby from him and added, "Tu
pinambá women do not care for writing or sailing. And queens are a thing for white men."

  Gerard nodded and tipped his hat. "You’re right, of course."

  As he walked away, he added, under his breath, "But then again, there is more to her blood than Tupinambá."

  #

  The sloth looked down at the dwelling of the strange, upright creatures. The two lazy men had lost their calm and become agitated, and had long since left the village. In their place, however, had appeared someone even calmer.

  The sloth made the slow climb down the tree, then made his way between the large, mud dwellings. The tall creatures cast looks at him as they passed quickly by, some of the smaller ones pointed at him and giggled, but none made a move to stop him.

  Step by step, he headed toward his destination: a woven stack of branches which contained--bundled within a set of rags--the tiny creature he sought.

  He climbed up the branches, careful not to tip them over, and cuddled up beside the tiny, dark creature. This one, without a doubt, was quite calming.

  END

  Gentle Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed “The Dolorous Birthing”, the ninth novelette in The Elephant and Macaw Banner series and a warm welcome for Taynah. Just as Kooka predicted, Taynah is a special girl, and I promise we'll be seeing more of her in the future.

  As always, please consider leaving a review of this book on Amazon. Also, consider mentioning The Elephant and Macaw Banner to your friends. It's really hard for new readers to discover these books without that word-of-mouth.

  If you haven’t already, please consider signing up for my bimonthly newsletter, which is the best way to keep up with the series. You can also keep up with the series in real time at EAMB.org, Facebook, or Twitter.

  Regards,

  Christopher

  Interested in further tales of Gerard and Oludara? There are several other titles available in this series, action-packed fantasy adventures that can be read in one sitting. Just $0.99 each or FREE on Kindle Unlimited.

  Acknowledgements:

  I'm taking a break from the normal round of acknowledgements to thank YOU, reader! Thanks for hanging around through nine books. A fantastic finish is on the way.

 

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