Ember of a New World (4 page)

“You're right, I should be more considerate. I picked some sour berries for you on my way over be
cause I know how hard you work.”
Smiling to herself, Ember’s smug expression drew an incredulous look from her mother who was not fooled a bit by her
daughter’s
e
x
planation.

“Well, at least you always know how to talk your way out of any situation
,
” her mother said, eying the delicious gift. “Here, make yourself useful and carry these fish back to the village for the fest
i
val
,”
East said, indicating a reed mat-wrapped bundle of small cleaned catfish and organs. Catfish is normally a rather large fish; though these were small fish, each being no longer than Ember’s arm in length and the width of her l
eg.

“I’ll get right to it, but first, the water calls!” Ember said as she broke into a run towards the river giving her mother no time to come back. East merely sat there shaking her head as she flicked an
other fish into the pile.

When will that fool girl ever take anything seriously? She's just like her father was
, East wondered.

As she ran, Ember stripped her clothing leaving her flax skirt, doe skin shirt, and leather wrap handled flint knife in a small line headed to the water. With a great leap Ember flew into the water with a vast splash, drawing the ire of everyone fishing nearby. She could clearly hear several people shouting negative things about her swi
m
ming, or was it her form?

Perhaps they are just jealous. My swimming is pretty good
, she mused. Ember simply took a deep breath and swam beneath the water. She kept her breechcloth on for the sake of modesty. Had there been more men around she would not have re
moved her skirt at all.

Though it was the middle of the warm season, the water was only mildly warm on the surface and became quite cold as she touched the bottom of the river. Her body gliding just near the bottom of the sha
l
low bank, Ember swam out from the shore in water just deeper than a man stood tall. Any farther and she would have to deal with the stronger currents. Several times before, Ember had been pulled away by those stronger currents and had to swim her way, slowly, back ashore. The last time, just a ten-day ago in fact, she had drifted away
from her laughing friends ashore, a frowning smirk and rolled eyes the whole way.

After a moment she opened her eyes under the water to have a look. The water was silty and hard to see in, but Ember kept looking at the bottom of the river for the telltale reflection of high quality stones. Normally the river was decently clear, but the lack of recent rain and the very uncommon wave of heat had lowered the level of the river, producing a much more silty swimming experience. In the darkness of the silty water Ember felt a sense of wonder and fear.

To her right she caught the glimpse of sudden movement. A clo
s
er look revealed what was most likely a catfish nearly half her size! The large fish quickly swam away towards the deeper part of the ri
v
er.

Hello Catfish! How's the water?
She asked to herself. Ember a
l
ways tried to keep her mind free and lighthearted, but there was always an ever-present edge of danger when swimming in the river. Coming up for a much needed breath of air, she laughed and then dove deeply again. If she were a bug or small fish she would have been frightened, but a catfish was not likely to try and gulp her down. If it did, they would both be stuck for only about half of her body would have fit! The fish would have had half of a girl protruding from its mouth!

Ember choked back a laugh at the thought causing her to lose her recently acquired air. Closing her eyes, Ember reemerged from the water and once more took a full breath of the warm air. In her mouth, she tasted the pleasant motes of a cooking fire, likely preparing the nights meals. Ember again dove deep towards the black and silty bo
t
tom.

As she reached the bottom of the river, Ember extended her hands and felt through the silty bed of the river for smooth flint pie
c
es. The cool current of the river and the dark depths of the water made each dive a small adventure. A gleam of light suddenly caught her eye, ending her musings. Ember reached out for the object which pr
o
duced the reflection. It was a small but overly heavy piece of stone; Ember palmed the stone and felt around for flint as her lungs began to burn. Ember continued to feel about the silt when her right hand rubbed over something smooth and large.

Hello my prize
, she thought. Her lungs cried for air and her body forced her to the surface. With a few quick breaths and not even a moment spared to examine the first find, Ember dove again to recover
what she had just felt in the silt. Once more on the bottom of the river's edge, Ember reached into the dark silt and again felt the same smooth object. Its surface was hard like stone, but smooth as shell. Her fingers probed through the cold silty bed trying to dig under the object. Ember quickly confirmed what she had found: the smooth side of a large piece of flint or chert!

The suction created when removing rocks from the silt always made the large rocks a multistage dive. On her next dive she retrieved the large piece and tugged it to the surface. The stone was large and difficult to carry whilst swimming. Ember slowly emerged from the cool river, totally soaked but with a smile on her face. Ember waded out of the water with her large flint piece, twice the size of her foot, and the small but overly heavy stone.

On the shore Ember took a closer look at her two finds. The first was not a normal stone at all but a yellowish, shiny, dense, and mall
e
able rock which some villagers had shaped into pendants for necklaces or even exchanged for goods with traders from the east and south. The yellow stone weighed nearly four times what a rock of the same size, as large as a
baby’s
balled fist, should have weighed. The quick excited dives and sight of Ember lugging something from the water had attracted the attention of c
hildren playing nearby. Several
of the children gathered around Ember to see what she had found.

Ember noticed that her little cousin Fox was among the children. Fox was young, having seen but nine harvests but she already had the beginnings of womanhood and a pair of striking blue eyes. Ember was quite confident Fox would grow into a very beautiful woman in not many harvests time. She placed the heavy yellow rock in Fox’s hand and gave her a smile. Fox giggled and ran off with the other children chasing her to see what she had been given. Such stones were not of much worth to her people. Ember had already collected a few over the
harvests
. If she traded the stone to a southern trader it would fetch something of quality, but today the flint find was worth much more.

Ember walked forward and picked up her skirt, reattaching it quickly to save a little of her dignity. She walked over to the flint piece which lay in the sand. Ember now examined the large piece of flint which she had found. It was a tan color and nearly as large as the head of a child, but shaped more like her foot. As she removed the silt and mud, Ember realized that she had truly found something valuable for this wasn't a regular piece of flint; this was a large flint nodule! A
nodule was a large and high quality piece of workable stone which, in the hands of the elder men of the village, could be turned into incred
i
ble knives, arrow or spear heads, or even tiny figurines used to channel the power of the Gods. Ember sat her nodule down and put the rest of her clothes back on. East looked up from her work to r
e
gard her oddly lucky daughter.

“So, you did it again... awoke late, skipped on your chores, and still returned better than you sta
rted, aye? One last time
,
dear?”
East yelled from her piles of fish. Ember smiled back with a mockingly toothy grin. After some stern looks from the other women, Ember walked back to the village with her flint under one arm, her fish under the other, and wet foot prints on the path. A flint nodule was truly a worthy achievement for a day. Ember couldn't help but relish the d
e
lightfully jealous looks from the other women. She had awoken late and not even caught a single fish, yet Ember had just discovered a wondrous item which surely pleased the Gods and would place her in excellent favor with the Elders of the tribe. This was also the sort of behavior which got her into the most trouble.

Perhaps a God or Gods exist or perhaps they do not. What is for certain is that religion is a construct of humanity which seek
s to faci
l
itate and govern
humanity's interaction with a proposed God o
r Gods, as well as with itself.
In effect, religion is a method of
self-governance
which allows a culture or civilization to invoke its own order by d
i
vine mandate. This begs the most important, and yet allusive question: is that mandate justified? The acceptance of divine mandate without empirical proof is said to be faith, the opposite of a secular empirical mandate. Humans have historically seen fit to follow faith over empiricism, which is perhaps a general property
of the human condition.

Humans have a need to see cause where there is an effect. From Birth, people observe cause and effect in their lives for every action
they take. It is of little wonder
why
events which cannot be readily explained were and still are attributed to supernatural beings. The proof
often offered
for the existence of these beings is their
alleged
causation of that which we cannot explain by any other means. By definition, this is an argument of incredulity.
Regardless of this illo
g
ic, i
t is for certain that religion has had the effect of moderating society. Of this, we can be empirically sure.

The order imposed by a culture's predomina
nt
religions is often governed by the general hierarchy and social constructs of that cu
l
ture. As a result, many aspects of a culture may be inferred by the study of its religion. Many hypothetical models for the religious ways of ancien
t peoples from the Neolithic period
have been proposed by historians, religious scholars, and enthusiasts. There have been many attempts to fully reconstruct the religions of ancient peoples based upon the plethora of these hypotheses. These many attempts have r
e
sulted in a degree of misinformation, misunderstanding, and confusion where prehistoric religion is concerned. The truth is that no one really knows to any real degree of certainty what people believed, other than more prominent aspects recorded in sculpture an
d works of long dead believers.

Enthusiasts of Neo-Paganism have sought to recreate some of these ideas and practices, but their attempts are often full of gues
s
work and assumptions. Scholars are not much better off as they are left with nearly as little information as the enthusiasts and an unwil
l
ingness to make assumptions and guesses, which is diagnostic of the culture of scientists. In the end, no one really knows for sure what r
e
l
igions these people practiced.

Writers of historical fiction have the easiest job as they can cr
e
ate a religious belief based in part on factual artifacts found and reasonable guesses made from observing religions of today. Ember's religion is based on tribal religions of today as well as some artifacts found at grave sites in Europe. This speculative amalgam of modern religion and ancient artifacts may actually provide a more realistic look at ancient religion than science will ever provide, being bound to only facts as they necessarily and rightful
ly are.

Given the
de
facto human need to ritualize important events, a common element throughout
humanity;
it is a reasonable assumption that rituals were commonplace and important in Ember's time. E
m
ber's people likely followed many of the rituals performed by modern people. When a boy or girl came of age, generally not long after p
u
berty, they would need to perform some sort of ritual to initiate the
m
selves into adulthood. Such practices are commonplace in nearly all tribes and peoples throughout the world, even today. Bar and Bat Mitzvahs in Jewish culture or Sweet 16 parties are good examples of these traditional rites of age. Often, these events required more than just an announcement of the adulthood attained, but com
monly a task must be performed.

Chapter three makes a stretch concerning the severity of a task to be performed. Most of Ember's people would be given simple tasks to prove adulthood. A man would slay a deer or spend a few nights in the wilds while a woman might create some artful pot or perform some domestic service of extra quality. The only time special tasks might be assigned is when a “sign” indicated the need. Greek m
y
thology, as an example, is full of heroes who were compelled to fight some massive monster or obtain some rare object, often heralded by a sign or significant event. This should be kept in mind while reading this chapter. Ember's religion incorporates these features to create what is likely a relatively good approximation of practices we may never learn about in any detail and Gods long forgotten in the dusts of time.

As the sun settled low on the horizon, Ember returned to the fa
m
ily longhouse to prepare for the festivities. Ember had spent much of her day gossiping with her friends and enjoying herself. She never could keep herself on task and was often just allowed to do as she pleased. Such antics were the way of children, which Ember barely resembled in body these days. Pushing such thoughts from her mind, Ember concentrated on pressing and immediate issues. Her hands and feet were dirty from the river bank, and she felt like she needed to t
i
dy-up a bit before the festivities. Ember generally attended such events merely to have fun and eat her fill of the tasty snacks. On this night, her ascension to womanhood, she would have to take care to put on a greater appearance. Ember wasn't sure what she might wear, but perhaps she could borrow something from her m
other.

As she lifted the leather flap of the longhouse, Ember noticed that more of the family had returned after the day's chores to prepare. Her mother East, her grandmother Blue River, known to most as “Na Na”, and several of the extended family, including her very young cousin Red Flowers, young cousin Fox, and Fox's mother Blue Skies, were sitting on mats preparing for the event. Fox's father and Red Flower's
family were nowhere in sight, but they probably had tasks preparing for the event. Fox looked up at Ember and to
ok note of her searching eyes.

“Everyo
ne else is getting ready, Ember,”
Fox said in a matter-of-fact tone. This was indeed the case, for Na Na was applying white paint to her and Fox's face while Red Flowers applied small feathers to Na Na's white hair. Red Flowers was quite shy, though she was merely eight seasons
old
. S
he had the same bright red hair as Ember. Red Flowers always had a smile and liked to spend her days with Na Na watching her paint zig zag lines on the pottery made by the younger women. Much of the tribes' pottery was made of
brownish
clay with white and black zig zag lines applied to the neck or gro
o
ves cut through the clay. This pattern identified the tribe, as well as the family that owned the pot. Na Na often added a ring of small dots ar
ound the neck.

These dots represented the strength of her people and were also worn by any warrior or hunter of the tribe in times of danger or when the strength of the people was needed. Ember had borrowed this very pattern as a personal style for her facial paints, which she wore on special occasions.

Ember noticed that her mother East was sifting through a basket of clothing searching for the correct shirt to wear. East lifted a woven
hemp
shirt, dyed blue, and compared it to a string shirt, adorned with feathers, in her other hand. Both were her best shirts, being very val
u
able and easily damaged. Blue dye was of exceptional rarity and difficult to obtain. Such clothing was reserved for a special occa
sion and not to be worn often.

“Well, I just don't know. I like the strings, but they are a bit too revealing. I'm not as young as I used to be
,”
East said giving her
self a worried frown.

“Choose the flax shirt
dearie
. You know why the strings are out of the question and it isn't your body. Besides, you
’
r
e
aging better than I am
,”
said N
a Na with a cackle of a laugh.

East suddenly had the look of recognition,
Oh yes, that's right
, she thought,
I don't want to take anything away from my Ember on her big night
. Besides, the showy string shirt
had already done
its work..., East glanced at Ember as she recall
ed the affect the shirt had
on Ember's father all of those harvests before. East chose
the blue hemp
shirt and carefully folded the string shirt back into its basket. As she finished, East noticed that Em
ber had entered the longhouse.

“I figured that only one of us should wear
a stringed outfit t
o
night,”
She said nodding at a basket sittin
g beside Ember’s sleeping mat.

Ember cocked and eyebrow and moved to open the basket. For a moment, she was confused. Suddenly, she noticed that everyone had turned their collective attention upon her. Their faces told Ember something great must be in the basket! She had not noticed the basket at first due to the low light of the long house, which was illuminated by the primary hearth.

Ember's heart raced as she slowly opened the basket lid and saw a green garment inside. Her choice of clothing on such an important night was important, but she had totally forgotten, until today, and didn't really have much to wear! Slowly, she reached inside and pulled out a truly beautiful tunic made of flax strings dyed green in color. Ember barely took in the entirety of the
tunic at once, her eyes racing
over each piece as fast as they could: The tunic was knee-length made of many fine strands of flax cord running vertically, and each taking a long ti
me to make!

Each cord was as thick as a flower's stem and left a space b
e
tween the next cord of about the same width. Each vertical cord was connected to the cord beside it by flax strings running horizontally. The horizontal strings were spaced about a pointer finger's width apart creating a net of sorts. The tunic sported a circle of colorful beads around the neck, around the bottom, and at the shoulders, having no sleeves. Blue feathers adorned the bottom. In the basket under the t
u
nic was a beaded belt made of a single long braided leather cord with a large blue bead every fingers length. The tunic would
be secured by the beaded belt.

Ember nearly fell to the floor as her legs became weak. She had never seen such a beautiful tunic, or any other such piece of clothing, in her entire life! How had her mother procured this marvel? The t
u
nic may have taken a good
weaver
and beader many seasons to make! She looked at her mother with teary eyes and asked the question with her stunned silence. East smiled at her awed and rarely speechless daughter, truly a marvel in its own right, and waited for Ember to sink to her knees on the m
atted floor before explaining.

“This past thawing season, when the traders came from the south, I traded for this dress. Your grandmother and I added the beads and feathers while you were off searching for flint, fishing, or otherwise not doing what you were supposed to be doing. You should not be
surprised; just a few of your better flint finds and two of those yellow rocks were more than enough for the trade
.”

Ember, still stunned, looked back at the tunic. She would be the most beautiful girl, wait no, on this eve she became a woman; she would be the most beautiful woman in the entire village! Ember stood and rushed upon her mother so fast that East nearly fell backwards! Ember squeezed her mother as hard as her arms could. Ember was not of a major family of the tribe, but she would surpass them all w
ith her comeliness this night.

Letting go of her mother and stepping backwards, Ember took a deep breath and carried the dress and a clay pot full of water to the back of the longhouse where she might prepare in privacy. She sat on an old deer skin and removed her clothing, taking care not to touch the clothing against her dirty feet or hands, any more than could be helped. Ember next poured some of the water into a large shallow clay pot and washed her hands. Afterward she applied her feet, one at a time, to the water, carefully cleaning each foot and removing the water from her feet afterward with drying sand. Scrubbing with sand made the skin soft and very clean,
as long as the sand was fine.

After discarding the water through the small back entrance of the dwelling, she set to work preparing her hair. Ember spent the next few
moments
brushing the tangles from her hair, starting with a smooth piece of wood, a shaft as thin as a finger and two hands long, which removed the nasty tangles. Afterward, she used a five tooth comb made from finely polished drift wood; a trinket bought from a trader from the east nearly two harvests before. Some of the oils had washed from Ember's hair as she swam, allowing her hair to be clean and fresh. Once she was convinced that her hair was combed free of ta
n
gles and in generally good order, Ember proceeded to fasten several tiny bird feathers to her hair at varying lengths using tiny pieces of plant fiber as twine. She glanced over her shoulders to see her mother giving her a nod of approval.