“I know the perfect place to keep a lookout,” Akhila said as she skipped down the well-worn path. Along the way they met Karichi, who was fetching firewood and Nadalla and Mia, who were returning from hunting mushrooms. Everyone smiled at the youngsters as they tried to slip past. Nadalla reached out however, and took hold of Akhila’s arm.
“Give these to your mother now,” the old woman said with a toothless grin. She handed Akhila a few of her larger mushrooms, along with several clumps of wild onions, “she’s helped me mightily with my morning pains.”
“I will,” Akhila replied impatiently, and stowed the gifts in her pack. Nadalla patted Akhila softly on the cheek before moving on. Akhila frowned, wishing the path was more secluded.
“No one seems to be panicking,” Akintunde commented as they continued on. “The Lowlanders must be staying out of sight.”
Akhila nodded solemnly. “That’s how they get you. They’re very sneaky like that. We should be extra careful from here on out,” she added and they both crept carefully up the path.
It wasn’t long before they broke out of the forest and came to an open poppy field that dropped sharply in elevation from one end to the other. Akhila laughed and broke into a run, bounding through the green grass and red poppies until she came to an old oak tree, its thick branches drooping nearly to the ground.
Without a word Akhila stopped and took off her pack. “We should climb to get a better view,” she told Akintunde, who glanced up into the tree with a frown. He’d never been keen on heights, though this particular tree looked easy enough to climb.
“Do you think we’ll spot them?” Akintunde asked as he leaned his lance against the trunk of the mighty tree.
“You should take that,” Akhila insisted, pulling her bow securely over her shoulder and adjusting the short sword at her waist, “we made need to throw it down on the enemy if they spot us.”
Akintunde grimaced. “I’ll have my sling,” he told her, but Akhila just shook her head.
“The branches will get in the way,” she argued and without another word pulled herself up into the lowest branches and began to climb.
Akintunde watched her go, and hesitated for a moment. The lance was nearly as long as he was tall and would make climbing tricky if he brought it along. Still, he did not want to appear a coward in front of Akhila, so he picked it up and started after her. He would not go too high in any case.
The tree was almost as easy to climb as a ladder, with branches large and numerous. Akhila was moving up quickly and never paused to look down, while Akintunde struggled with the lance. He continued silently after her, wishing all the while she’d come to a stop and wait for him, but she climbed on and on. The lance was a constant hindrance. Several times it caught against the trunk of the tree or got hung up in the fork of a branch, and he had to stop to free it. He tried not to look down as the ground fell away, but when his foot slipped he came to an abrupt stop and would climb no more. He glanced once up at Akhila and then down and blanched. He was very high, much higher than he intended, but then he looked out and his eyes widened. The whole mountain was laid out before him and he was sure if he looked hard enough he could see all the way to the valley below. Gasping he turned around in an attempt to spot his house but he was quickly disappointed, the entire village was lost behind the thick trees to the north.
“Don’t stop,” Akhila admonished, “they’ll see you.”
Akintunde glanced up. Akhila was much higher, nearly to the very top and his stomach did a little flip.
“No they won’t,” Akintunde argued. “I’m well hidden.”
He caught Akhila’s frown.
“If I go any higher I won’t be able to hit anything with my lance,” he told her, “the branches will get in the way.”
After a moment she seemed to accept this argument and nimbly worked her way back down.
“Could you see the village from up there?”
Akhila smiled and shook her head. “No, but the Lowlanders are from the valley…” she began and then hesitated, eyes widening.
“What?” Akintunde asked as a thrill of fear shot through him. ‘Lowlanders!’ He thought and looked around wildly, but then Akhila pointed and he spotted a small herd of wild sheep making their way slowly across the field, pausing occasionally to munch on the lush grass, while keeping clear of the bright red poppy flowers. As he watched, it became apparent that they were heading directly toward the large oak that dominated the area.
“Climb down…I think we can get one,” Akhila whispered in excitement and deftly moved from branch to branch until she hovered just above him.
Akintunde nodded and then gulped as he looked down at the ground so far below. He tried to move, but his hands refused to release their grip on the branch he was holding and his legs began to shake uncontrollably.
“Come on…go down,” Akhila hissed urgently, the sheep were still moving slowly in their direction and she didn’t want to miss her chance.
Akintunde looked down again and the world began to spin about, so he shut his eyes and tightened his grip. “I can’t,” he croaked.
“Tunde, they’re going to get away.”
Akintunde took a deep breath, mustering his courage. “Don’t rush me,” he told her and opened his eyes and hunted for the branch directly beneath him. He found it quickly and slowly lowered his body down. His right foot swayed to and fro in the light breeze as his toes hunted for purchase. For a frightening moment all Akintunde met was open air, but then his foot tapped the branch and settled down onto it.
“Hurry,” Akhila said.
“I said don’t rush me!” Akintunde snapped far too loudly and it finally dawned on Akhila that her friend was afraid…very afraid.
“It’s going to be all right,” Akhila whispered and dropped down to his side quickly enough to make his stomach turn.
Akintunde grimaced and without looking down slowly lowered his left foot and found another branch.
“Now your hands,” Akhila encouraged before taking a brief glance at the small flock of sheep. Luckily, they were taking their time and were not yet under the tree.
Akintunde steeled his nerves and very gingerly released the branch he was punishing with his grip. He moved his left hand down to the branch just beneath it, moments later his other hand followed.
“Good,” Akhila told him, “now again.”
Akintunde nodded weakly, vowing never to climb another tree if only he could make it to the ground unharmed. The possibility of killing one of the unsuspecting sheep was far from his mind. He managed to creep down several more branches before he came to a particularly wide gap and came to a sudden halt. No matter how low he extended his leg he couldn’t find the next branch.
“Just a little farther,” Akhila said from directly above him. She was keeping a close eye on both him and the sheep that were drifting ever closer to the tree.
“I can’t find it,” Akintunde blurted in panic and tried to stretch his leg down farther, but the lance caught in the crook of the branch he was clinging to and stopped him. For a moment his entire body swayed in the wind, until finally he could take no more and pulled himself back up.
“It’s just a little lower,” Akhila encouraged him, “look.”
Akintunde shook his head. “Take the lance,” he told her and Akhila frowned, but did as he asked. He was far more accurate with the lance, but she knew that if they didn’t climb down quickly they would miss their opportunity.
“Hurry,” Akhila added as the sheep finally began to move under the tree’s canopy.
Akintunde paused a moment with his eyes closed and then gingerly glanced down. He didn’t see the branch just below his foot, all he saw was the ground, impossibly far away. Fear gripped his heart but he somehow managed to force his foot down until the tips of his toes touched the branch. It was thick and strong and felt solid beneath him so Akintunde let go with his left hand. He shifted his right foot just as his left foot slipped. His body shot down, pausin
g for only a moment as his left hand held but then it too slipped and he began to fall.
“Tunde!” Akhila yelled as his body slammed against the branch just below. Instead of catching hold he somersaulted and dropped and struck the next branch.
The sheep bolted as Akhila screamed and Akintunde pin-balled down the large oak. Surprisingly he made his way down relatively unhurt until he hit the final branch, which was just four feet off the ground. Gaining speed at the end, he slammed into the branch hard and cracked two ribs. Tunde groaned and then flipped over and fell to the ground, landing on one of the oak’s thick roots where his left arm broke with a loud snap.
Akintunde screamed, Akhila screamed and the sheep raced across the field as fast as they could.
Akhila dropped out of the tree almost as fast as Akintunde. She was right by his side when he finally rolled over onto his back.
“Tunde…Tunde…I’m sorry,” she stammered and then glanced at his arm and had to fight down a wave of nausea. It was clearly broken, with a section of stark white bone sticking sickly through the skin of his forearm.
Akintunde sobbed once and then lost most of his breakfast in a wave of nausea. He cried out from the pain in his ribcage as he heaved and tried desperately not to be sick again, though he was dizzy and lightheaded.
He groaned again, and was for the most part unaware of his surroundings as Akhila helped him to sit.
“Tunde…Tunde,” Akhila repeated but her friend’s eyes were glazed over and he did not respond.
“Tunde!” She said louder and shook him a little until his breath hissed between his teeth. His eyes cleared momentarily and he finally saw her.
“I’m hurt,” he confessed just before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against her.
♀
Akintunde remained unconscious for a full day. Ilana wrapped his ribs; for there was little she could do for them but pray they’d heal. As near as she could determine at least two were cracked…maybe three, but she didn’t think any were actually broken and praised the gods that his lungs were not pierced. If so, his death would be painful and ordained.
His arm was another matter however, and she set it as well as she was able. It was a nasty, jagged break, the kind that was prone to cause sickness and death even as it healed. Akintunde briefly came around, screaming at the top of his lungs as she pulled and guided the bone back into place. Once it was over he fainted again, sweating profusely from the ordeal.
“We must pray to Gula,” Ilana told Hiral and Nari when she finally emerged from Akhila’s bedroom.
“Will he be all right?” Hiral asked, tears swimming in his eyes. Nari did not wait for the answer and rushed past them both to kneel by her son’s side.
Ilana shrugged, she’d learned long ago not to give false hope. “It is up to the goddess now. I’ve done what I can. There’s no blood in his mouth, his lungs are clean, but the arm…well if he survives it may never work again.”
Hiral nodded. He’d feared as much when he saw the bone. Luckily it was not the boy’s slinging arm. He might still be of use.
Akintunde woke early the following morning in Akhila’s large bed and found her waiting by his side. He smiled, but then groaned as he tried to move his arm.
“Careful,” Akhila said and wiped his brow with a wet cloth.
“Akhila,” he mumbled weakly and then paused for so long she’d thought he fallen asleep.
“Akhila,” he repeated stronger this time.
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I want to climb trees anymore,” he told her. Akhila laughed and Akintunde started to join in but then winced and passed out from the pain once again. The fever started within the hour and Akintunde fought it for three full days, Akhila steadfastly by his side.
She’d refused to leave the room since his injury, taking what little she ate while watching over him. She slept on the floor by her bed when she could no longer stay awake. She prayed with Nari and her mother while they tended him, and burned incense through the night to ward off any evil spirits that might want to invade the weakened body of her friend. Ilana was moved by her daughter’s devotion and thought if the boy survived the two might be a good match. She kept such thoughts to herself however, for she knew Bahari had plans to offer her to Kayo, the son of Nahrtra, the chief warrior of Awan. Plus the longer the fever lasted, the weaker the boy became. If the fever went on much longer it was doubtful he would live.
But near sunset on the third day his fever broke and Akintunde woke and begged for water. In the morning he was hungry and Ilana knew he would survive. It was a happy time for them all, but no one was more relieved than Akhila, who blamed herself for his injuries. She vowed quietly as he healed that she would never put him in danger again. Of course she broke the vow not long after he was strong enough to leave her bed.
Chapter Two
Akintunde and Akhila
3827 B. C. Two years later
“Let’s jump!” Akhila suggested excitedly as Tainegra finally surfaced, a broad smile across his face. Akhila was itching to try and completely forgot about her friend’s fear of heights. Akintunde just shook his head. Two years after his fall from the tree and he still wasn’t over his fear, and though his body had healed to a degree, his left arm remained locked at the elbow so that he couldn’t fully straighten it. He glanced up at the rocks that hung over the slow, deep part of the river. They looked to be very high and he knew from experience that once up top they would look even higher.
“Come on,” Akhila insisted and grabbed his arm, but it was wet and he easily slipped from her grasp. She frowned at him, but paused in her assault to watch as Quay, a large hulking boy, jumped from rocks. He plummeted down so quickly that Akintunde felt a moment of fright even though he was standing safely in the water. Quay shot down feet first and at the last second tucked his legs underneath his body and rolled into a ball. He hit the water and made a titanic splash. Akhila laughed and clapped.
“Come on Tunde! It looks like fun,” she hounded and tried to grab his arm once more, but he bounced away from her on his tiptoes. The water was deep here, though just around the bend was a shallow ford where the young children and most of the adults splashed about.
“Let’s try,” Akhila insisted and bounced after him. She was still a bit taller and had an easier time of it. She caught him quickly, grabbed his arm and then wrapped him in a tight embrace, his back to her. Akhila spun so that they faced the rock cliff. Akintunde wiggled for a moment but could not get away. Another boy jumped, and then a couple of squealing girls took the plunge together.
“It’s all right to be afraid,” Akhila said lightly in his ear and Akintunde stiffened, slightly offended by the suggestion. He didn’t contradict her however. Over the last few years they’d spent nearly every waking moment together and knew each other well. It finally dawned on her why he was being so cautious and the memory of the fall from the tree caused her gut to clench painfully…still she wanted to jump. She’d been watching children daring enough jump from the cliffs her entire life, and always refrained because of Tunde. She hoped he’d eventually come around, but now she could wait no longer. The excitement and possible danger were just too alluring. “Look…no one’s getting hurt,” she coaxed.
It was true. Everyone was laughing and splashing, and those who found the courage to make the leap, quickly scrambled out of the water and up the bank for another try.
“I don’t want to,” Akintunde answered, barely above a whisper and Akhila softened.
“All right Tunde,” she conceded and released him from her grip. “I’ll go first,” she added and began to swim away.
“Akhila,” Akintunde started, but her name caught in his throat and she didn’t hear him. He was afraid for her, but exhilarated at the same time. Still, that did not entice him to follow after her. His fear rooted him to the spot, though he had to lean slightly into the gentle current to remain stationary. He watched with growing trepidation as she quickly made her wa
y to the far bank. Without hesitation she climbed from the water and made her way up the rocks. At her age, from behind, her lithe brown body was nearly indistinguishable from a boy’s. She was naked, but so were they all, and other than Akintunde, no one paid her any mind. He watched her climb with a cluster of excited jumpers. Most were older and bigger, but Akhila was not the smallest. Cialla, a girl several years younger was two spots ahead of her, and Tourkay, a boy of only six, followed directly behind.
Akintunde watched as one after another the children jumped, some paused a moment to gather their courage, but most just shot happily into space when the area beneath them was clear. Everyone was smiling and laughing, obviously loving the thrill, and it was true, no one was getting hurt. Still, his heart thumped in his chest when Akhila finally moved to the front and out to the edge of the rocks. To Akintunde, she was magnificently courageous and strangely alluring. He was terrified for her, but very proud and slightly jealous of her bravery. He didn’t quite understand all the feelings that flooded through his young body as he gazed up at her. She was his friend, his good friend and that was all there was to it. Still, when it was her turn, and she stood on the very edge searching about for him, his heart swelled and then flip-flopped in his chest when their eyes met. She grinned and waved frantically before fearlessly launching her body into the air and down.
“Aaaakkkinntttunnddde!” she yelled as she plummeted feet first, arms pin-wheeling in the air. She sliced through the water with hardly a splash and disappeared beneath the surface. Despite his better judgment, and without truly being aware of the fact, Akintunde pushed toward the spot just as fast as he could go. Seconds later Akhila shot to the surface, rubbed the water from her eyes, and broke into a huge grin. She looked briefly up to the rocks…an older girl was waiting for her to clear out of the landing area. Akhila broke off swimming, keeping her face out of the water and smiling widely as she glided toward Akintunde.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 4