Death in the Time of Ice (31 page)

Lakala Rippling Water started a slow dirge, her voice sweet and pure on the wintry air. Sannum Straight Hair beat a melancholy rhythm on his drum. Even the high flute notes of Panan One Eye dripped with sorrow. Bahg feared whatever the unpleasant task would turn out to be. He watched as Enga Dancing Flower did a slow turn. Her feet, usually so nimble and sure, dragged through the steps. A few of the other females joined her, and a couple of males. But the mourning dance and song did not last long. They had sat with the ashes on their faces for Hama during most of the sun time yesterday.

Bahg grimaced, thinking about mourning. There were other reasons to mourn at this meeting.

After the song, Panan offered a Saga.

I will tell of the Saga of Fire and Brother Moon. When Brother Earth was very young, when Sister Sun had just been born of Mother Sky, there was no Brother Moon yet. The dark time terrified the Hamapa. They could not see anything in the dark. But the dark time predators could see them. They had no wipiti yet, but had to huddle together every time Sister Sun disappeared, and stay like that until she arose.

The Hamapa did not yet understand that Sister Sun needed to sleep.

Bahg closed his eyes and enjoyed the Saga. This was one he knew well, but some of the younger Hamapa had not yet heard it. He tried to imagine seeing the distant, mystic times with their young minds.

The Hamapa cried to Mother Sky, Dakadaga, give us light so we may not all be killed at night. Mother Sky gave birth to Brother Moon and he shone forth with fullness, but only for a short time. He was weaker than Sister Sun. He could not shine fully all of the time. He grew thin and soon he disappeared. The dark was complete again when Sister Sun was gone.

The fire crackled and spit while the tribe, in silence, received the Saga.

The Hamapa danced and sang and cried for a long time until Mother Sky took pity. She gave a tremendous shout and shot light from her terrible brow and fire began to consume a tree. The tree burned in the sun time and in the dark time. It burned for many suns. Then the fire went out.

Bahg flinched at the cold mental picture. He glanced at their bright, warm fire, grateful he lived in an enlightened time, a time when the Hamapa had fire under their control.

Mother Sky scolded the Hamapa for not taking care of her gift. It was a long time before she sent another shot of light. But this time the Hamapa were ready. They gathered the fire with sticks and stored it in a fire pit. And now we have fire to keep us warm and cook our food. But, most importantly, fire keeps away the large beasts at dark time.

The Hamapa also came to understand that Brother Moon would always get fatter, then thinner, and would always need to take a period of rest when he was at his thinnest.

Bahg grunted and nodded with the others as Panan finished. It was wise of the Storyteller to give a message of light and warmth this night. This meeting’s event would make them all feel cold and dark.

Cabat the Thick, the Most High Male, stood and broadcast to all that the tribe would now vote to accept Roh Lion Hunter, Hama Dy, as permanent Hama. Bahg threw Ongu Small One a look, wondering if she would compete for the position. But Ongu sat quiet.

Roh stood alone, facing the fire with her back to her tribe. Each Hamapa clinked down a stone on the ground behind her back, voting Roh as their new Hama.

It was a good choice, Bahg felt. This Hama would not make rash, unwise decisions, even though she was the birth daughter of the one who did. Her first task was a particularly odious ordeal.

Roh, now Hama, turned around, took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. She picked up the gourd and rattled it. Bahg put one arm around Fee Long Thrower, who held their son, and squeezed them both tight.

“Hoody! Listen! The Most High Female Speaks. Nanno Green Eyes slew our leader, the Aja Hama.”

Startled looks and gasps went around the circle from those who were hearing this verdict for the first time.

“Nanno Green Eyes is banished from our memories. Mother Spirit of the Sky, Dakadaga, bless the Hamapa.”

Her voice cracked on the last words. Nanno was her birth mother, after all. She rattled her gourd once more.

“Hoody! Listen! The Most High Female Speaks. Stitcher is allowed to remain with the tribe as long as he chooses. He is allowed to pick a mate. Mother Spirit of the Sky, Dakadaga, bless the Hamapa.”

Stitcher was summoned. He walked into the full firelight, limping on his twisted foot, his shoulders and head held high. Cabat handed him an obsidian knife blade. Roh reached to touch the pouch around his neck, the pouch containing his sewing bones. She smiled at him.

These are your belongings, in this pouch,
Cabat said.
No one else knows how to use them, and the Hamapa wish you to continue to gift us with your talents.

Bahg caught sight of Tog Flint Shaper. He appeared to be shooting thoughts to Stitcher. Bahg wondered what the brothers were conversing about. And if the rest of the tribe would ever be able to communicate with Stitcher.

Vala Golden Hair gave Stitcher a shy smile when he turned away to take his place beside her.

Something very good had happened, though, Bahg remembered, in spite of the pain of banishing a leader from their memories and their lore. Now they knew who had killed Aja Hama. They need not to worry that the Mikino had done it. The tribe could now work together for survival.

But they now knew that one of them had slain another. This was something Bahg had never thought could happen. He hoped it could never happen again.

* * *

Enga Dancing Flower watched Stitcher limp with enthusiasm to Vala Golden Hair’s side. He looked so joyful. He had been a lonely stranger most of his time with the Hamapa, despised by his own birth mother. His life had not been easy with the tribe. She would try to make it up to him and hoped the rest of the tribe would, too.

Enga Dancing Flower took comfort in the new Hama. Now, she thought, the tribe might be saved. A slight smile touched her lips.

Hama took up her next task.

Now,
she thought-spoke,
we must decide on a trading mission. Shall we trade with the Mikino or not?

There is no need now,
was the opinion of Panan. Cabat agreed with him and the rest nodded their heads. They had plenty of meat for the near future. Ung Strong Arm and Fee Long Thrower would be fully able to hunt by the time they needed food again.

Then we must decide, together, whether to move the village when Dark Season is over¸
was the next thought from the new Hama.

Enga was proud of her. She was not shirking the hard decisions, but facing them. And getting input instead of deciding on her own. Her hope for the Hamapa swelled.

The last business of the council was to decide on a flint hunting trip for next new sun.

Enga walked to her wipiti after the meeting. She was alone most nights now. Ung and Lakala had decided to live together. Enga was happy for them, but didn’t like being alone.

Tog Flint Shaper ran after her and caught her arm just before she entered the door flap.
Enga Dancing Flower. I want to see you before I travel to get flint.

She turned and strolled with him behind the wipiti, out of sight of the others. It was dark back there, out of the circle of light. Deep shadows filled the hollows of Tog’s strong face. His birth mother’s sister had been proven a killer. Enga reached out and trailed her hand down his cheek, from his eyes to his lips. He turned his head and kissed her fingers. Enga fell into his warm embrace and gave Tog a proper farewell.

Hurry back
, she thought-spoke to his retreating form. He turned and grinned, and answered that he would.

Inside the wipiti, nestling into her fur sleeping skin, she pondered Tog. He was not all good and not all bad. But, for the most part, she liked the way he was. She would be happy with him.

A new thought came. Aja Hama was not all good either. She was a bad mother to Stitcher. She should have accepted her own son and nurtured him, no matter how he had been born. Stitcher was not all bad, but like everyone else, a combination of good and bad. He had had terrible thoughts, thoughts of killing Nanno Green Eyes while she was Hama. But there had been much good in him. He had not killed her, even though she had done such a horrible deed. What was there good in Nanno Green Eyes, though? There must have been something. Her mate, Kokat No Ear, had stayed with her always and treated her well. And she had been kind to him, also. They had even raised a wise daughter, the present leader. Life was very complicated.

Chapter 30

Tog Flint Shaper took Enga Dancing Flower’s hand and led her out of the village.

I am too happy to sit still,
thought-spoke Tog.
I have to move!

Enga smiled.
Then let us run
. They trotted through the woods, then came to the open spaces. They raced across the flat, grassy plain, still holding hands. Enga thrilled at the speed. Her hair, worn loose today, felt good streaming behind her. Sister Sun smiled on them with just the right amount of warmth.

In a few moons I will not be able to do this,
thought-spoke Enga.
Your seed grows quickly in me. Soon it will be too large for me to run fast.

The grass, just beginning to turn a tender shade of green, waved in the gentle, sighing breath of Mother Sky. Her Spirit was in a good mood today. A flock of geese flew overhead, honking on their way to their colder nesting places. Back on the Sacred Hill, flowers were blooming and the poplars were leafing out.

Enga and Tog ran until they were out of breath, then fell to the ground and lay admiring the wispy clothing of Mother Sky. Soon they got up and started walking back to the village. Tog reached over and ran his hand over her swelling belly. Soon there would be a newborn Hamapa.

In five suns the tribe would move to a warmer place where they hoped to find more game. The couple strolled into the village and plunked down onto the stones of their beloved Paved Place. Enga spread her hands on the paving. They could not take the stones with them, but hoped to find similar flat ones so they could build a new center in their new village.

It had taken so long for the snow to melt, and for Sister Sun’s warmth to thaw Mother Sky’s frigid breath, Enga had thought Cold Season would never end. But it was finally Seed Season, and the Hamapa had made it through the cold alive, thanks to the many strips of musk ox meat, dried by the fire before the worst of the Cold Season descended upon them. And thanks to the ox skins, scraped and cut to sleep on and wear.

Hama came out of the largest wipiti and greeted Enga and Tog.
I hope the seed of Tog Flint Shaper is growing well inside you, Enga Dancing Flower. It is important to have more Hamapa.

Yes,
answered Enga.
The youngest of Ongu has now passed seven summers. Too long a time passed with too few surviving Hamapa babies. Now we have the baby of Vala Golden Hair, and ours is coming.

Enga was in marvelous health. She sensed that her seed was growing just fine. Sometimes it kicked so hard it took her breath away. She laughed aloud when that happened.

She watched Hama, whom she sometimes still thought of as Roh Lion Hunter, cross to the wipiti of the single males, probably to confer about the next council meeting. This Hama was much different than the previous two. She even looked different. She was shorter and stockier, besides being less serious.

Enga sent a private, dark blue message to Tog.
It is good she can rejoice with us about the coming baby.

Yes, she seems recovered from the sorrow of losing her last one. As recovered as one gets. She takes pleasure in the little one of Vala Golden Hair and Stitcher, too.

Sometimes Enga wondered how it would be now if the Aja Hama who was the mother of Tog had not been killed. To Enga, Aja Hama had stood for her ideal, the person she would most like to be. But she often pondered that there were aspects of Aja Hama that were not good. She had not even loved her son, Stitcher, although he had always loved her.

Enga no longer wanted to be just like Aja Hama, but she would always love her. Aja Hama had consisted of good parts and bad parts, just like all beings.

Ung Strong Arm came running up to Enga and Tog, Lakala Rippling Water trailing behind her.

Look what I just caught!
Ung held up a slain baby llama.
This will make a fine wrap for your baby.

Vala Golden Hair or Stitcher may be able to do some stitching,
thought-spoke Lakala.
Stitcher is teaching her how to use his stitching bones.

Vala joined them holding her new daughter at her breast. They all cooed for a moment, then Ung showed her the llama. Vala touched it.
It’s so very soft. It will make good baby garments. I can make one for Sooka. I watch Stitcher very closely when he makes garments. I haven’t tried to make one for someone to wear, but I have practiced on scraps of skin.

Stitcher came out of their wipiti and smiled on his mate and child. Enga could tell, ever since Sooka had been born, that Stitcher had given the seed for her. They would be able to tell more when Sooka was older, but her tiny limbs were slim and long for a baby.

I would like to make one for your baby when it comes, too,
continued Vala.
If I can do it, that is. I may not be able to, but I’ll try. If I cannot, Stitcher will.

Tears sprang to Enga’s eyes. She was affected by the kindness of Ung and Lakala, and also by the kindness of Vala and Stitcher.
However it turns out, I will use it and the baby will love it.