The Gathering Night (29 page)

‘You'll be very glad, then, to know Osané's well,' I said at last. ‘She's happy with Kemen. Your grandson is thriving too.'

Arantxa sniffed hard, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. ‘Kemen!' she said with loathing.
Now
we were coming to the point. ‘That man! Nekané, how
could
Zigor let that man steal my daughter!'

She didn't dare accuse me. If she wanted to take refuge in blaming Zigor, it wouldn't hurt him, and it might help me. I left Zigor out of it. ‘Kemen didn't steal your daughter, Arantxa.'

‘What do
you
call it then?' flashed Arantxa. ‘What right had he to take my child? She was promised to Edur! Kemen stole her! He stole her from Edur! He stole her from us!'

‘What do you mean:
stole
her? Was Osané a baby at your breast? Was she your cloak or your knife or your needle? No, Arantxa, she was not. She was a grown woman! She wasn't yours to keep, or yours to give. So how could she be
stolen
?'

‘Kemen
took
her!'

‘Yes, and she took Kemen. Is that so strange?'

‘But she never would if . . . She was
forced
to do it. She should have stayed with her family. Zigor had no right—'

‘Forced?' I repeated. ‘Osané wasn't forced! She chose to stay with Kemen. I was there that night, remember! No one held Osané down. If she'd wanted to leave my hearth she could have got up and walked across the Camp to yours. Why didn't you –
you –
her mother – come and fetch her home, if you had the faintest breath of a suspicion that she was
forced
? And where was her father? Why didn't he come and get her
instantly
if he thought she was being raped? But he never came near her! What kind of father is that? And why didn't her brothers ask her to come back with them, instead of hurling insults and empty threats at my family? Did
they
see anyone holding Osané back by force? No, Arantxa, they didn't. Nobody did. Osané could have returned to your hearth whenever she liked. But she didn't, did she?'

‘But that man! Not that I blame
you
, Nekané,' Arantxa added hurriedly. ‘That Kemen! He took her! He raped her! After that she was too ashamed to come! Poor child! Oh Osané, my poor lost child.'

‘Oh do be quiet, Arantxa! Osané is neither poor nor lost. On the contrary, she has everything a woman needs, and you know exactly where she is. If you think she went with Kemen against her will, why didn't you say so when he took her? If Osané had said then that it was rape, the People would have made him give her up at once.'

‘And then no other man would have touched her! You know that! You know why girls don't . . . You know what happens!'

‘Edur didn't seem to know. He made enough fuss about wanting her back. You can't have worried about no one wanting Osané, Arantxa!'

Defeated, Arantxa subsided into whimpers. I looked at her thoughtfully. She was gazing helplessly out to sea. Her cheeks were wet with tears: her sorrow was real enough, not that I'd ever doubted that. I judged my chance had come. I said in an off-hand way, ‘But Edur can tell me himself, can't he, as soon as the boat comes back from Hunting Camp?'

Arantxa leaped like a startled hare. She stared at me wildly. ‘Edur? I . . . I . . .'

‘Oh yes you do,' I told her. ‘Edur's been at Loch Island since Egg Moon. And now I think you should tell me about the men he brought with him.'

‘I . . . I . . . I don't know what you mean, Nekané! Truly, I don't know what you mean!'

‘Come, Arantxa, you can do better than this! D'you think I don't know why you've welcomed the brother of your worst enemy to your own hearth?'

She turned so white I thought she was going to faint. She believed me, of course – I appeared to know so much that she thought I had the power to see anything I wished. I pressed the point home. ‘D'you think I don't know why Edur brought Kemen's brother here? It seems a strangely long journey to come all the way to Loch Island, when Edur's own family have their summer Camps away under the High Sun Sky by Grandmother Mountain. You'd think Edur would have taken Basajaun straight across to Kemen on Mother Mountain Island, wouldn't you? Because Basajaun must have asked Edur about his brother? Hodei realised what had happened at once, didn't he? Did you really believe that
Zigor
wouldn't see just as much as Hodei?'

‘Zigor!' Arantxa gasped. ‘Does he . . . does Zigor . . .'

‘Of course Zigor knows,' I said impatiently. ‘And I'm sure it's not really your fault. I told Zigor that. But you'd better explain it to me yourself.'

Arantxa wasn't quite as stupid as I'd thought. ‘I don't see why I should break my word' – she stretched up her hands to the spirits – ‘to tell you something you know already.'

‘Your word to your husband, Arantxa?'

‘And what's wrong with that?' she retorted.

I'd known all along we'd have to come to this. ‘I think your daughter could tell you best what's wrong with that,' I said.

Arantxa took me by surprise. She really did faint. She gave a hiccupping gasp and slumped against my arm. I lowered her on to the turf. I still had some water in my waterskin so I sprinkled cool water on her face, and stroked her temples. A shadow crossed her face; I looked up and saw small clouds gathering, chasing one another slowly across the Sun.

Arantxa's eyelids fluttered. I had a heartbeat's memory of Osané, bruised and swollen, opening her eyes as I leaned over her in the Go-Betweens' shelter. I'd never seen any likeness between mother and daughter before. My heart both softened and hardened towards Arantxa. I couldn't doubt that she'd suffered too. But she'd let these things happen, and I could use that to deal with her now.

Arantxa tried to look as if she were still too faint to speak.

‘Come on, Arantxa. You know you can't get out of it. We're not leaving this spot until we've talked about this.'

Arantxa wept. I put my arm round her and spoke to her as if she were my little daughter. At first she was stiff and frightened. Then she laid her head on my breast and sobbed as if her heart were breaking. I made no move to stop her. There aren't enough tears in this world for all there is to weep about. This woman – whom I didn't like – but that was not the point – had suffered more than I ever had, more even than I did when I lost my son. I found myself thinking about my own husband. I remembered what a good man he was. No one realised how much I missed him. As Arantxa gave herself over to weeping, I felt a small prickling behind my own eyes. That was a good thing: Arantxa would have known if my sudden kindness didn't come from my heart. At last her sobs began to die away. She took huge shuddering breaths like a child that's worn itself out with crying. Her face was still hidden by the fold of my cloak. Suddenly a torrent of words flowed from her, just as I'd intended.

‘My husband is so difficult! No one wants to come to our winter Camp! It's because of
him
. The boys – they hate being with us! Oroitz has a woman – he'll take her this Year at Gathering Camp. He'll go with her family. Of course they won't come back to us. And Itzal – less than a Moon ago Itzal fought his own father – Itzal struck his father! What can I do about it? It's the way he treats them – no one must know this, Nekané – I tried to say to
him
, “Itzal is a man, you can't –” And then of course he hit
me
. What can I do? And the boys – they've seen this all their lives. Itzal is a good boy. But Koldo – I worry about Koldo – he's the one most like my husband, and my husband seems to hate him for it! Nothing Koldo does is right. And yet he's the one who loves his father. But Koldo will leave too. Itzal isn't a fighter – he hates all that. He'll go too. And Oroitz – he hardly speaks to anyone. Oh Nekané, I worry about them so! But they'll all leave me. I know they'll all leave me, because of
him
!

‘But my daughter!' I waited patiently while Arantxa's tears got the better of her. ‘My little girl! I always thought I'd have my daughter with me, even when the boys were gone.
He
said she'd have to stay.
He
said it was a good thing she was so pretty' – here Arantxa wept again – ‘because she had to get a man who could hunt for us when the boys were gone. Nekané, the thing that frightens me – what I lie awake at night and think about – it's all right in the summer Camps – my family are all here too – but they don't like
him
either – it's never been easy – but I know – I've even
asked
them. I asked my aunt and my cousins – none of them want us to join their winter Camps. They won't have us because of
him.
And Ihintza – my own
sister
– Ihintza said. Ihintza said . . .'

‘Try to tell me, Arantxa. What did Ihintza say?'

‘She said she wouldn't have
him
in her winter Camp. She said – she said – “not while . . .” She said, “Not while I have unmarried daughters!”'

Arantxa flung herself face down on the turf and screamed. She beat the ground with her fists. I laid my hand on her back. I looked round – surely we'd be interrupted now! No one came. The small clouds had finished crossing the Sun, and were drifting inland towards the hills. Sunlight twinkled on the sea around us, and the far hills lay soft and blue. The landward breeze laid a gentle hand against my cheek, yet in its touch my bones felt a faint twinge of the Year growing old. I sniffed the air, laden with the honeyed scents of heather and bog myrtle basking in the Sun, but underneath I smelt the first sharp tang of fall. Another ending, and already I was growing old.

Arantxa kept on howling like a wounded puppy. Surely they'd come! But no. Then it dawned on me – I was unusually slow – there was something Arantxa had just said: Ihintza! Those women in the Camp knew quite well what I was doing. They weren't hostile after all. They were afraid. I thought of little Argi pulling me into the Camp. I knew his parents well. I'd known all these People since they were born. They were
my
People. My task suddenly narrowed down and I saw its edges clearly. The cousins here wanted me to help Arantxa – I wasn't sure if I could do that – it wasn't my main purpose. Whatever they thought about Edur bringing Kemen's brother – most of them probably felt it was nothing to do with them – they
wanted
me to listen to Arantxa now.

At last I got Arantxa to sit up. She didn't go on from where she'd left off; I didn't try to make her. She talked and talked about how they'd needed Osané to bring in a good hunter. They'd relied on some man thinking highly enough of Osané's beauty to wish to join their family. When Edur tried to take Osané, Arantxa couldn't believe her luck. I'd always thought Edur was stupid; everything Arantxa said confirmed this. Yet Edur had been clever enough, and angry enough, to think of bringing Basajaun here to Hodei, so as to get rid of Kemen. Whether Edur still hoped to get Osané I didn't know. If Edur were to get hold of Osané's child as well, then Kemen's son – my grandson Bakar – wouldn't live another Moon. But none of this could ever happen – Amets was Kemen's friend – Amets looked after my family now – Amets would never let it happen!

‘ . . . when Edur wanted her,' Arantxa was saying, ‘I thought the spirits were being kind to us after all. I don't
know
why she wouldn't take him. She made my life so
difficult
! I never understood her, Nekané. She
knew
that if she didn't take a man who could hunt for us we'd starve. She knew the boys would leave . . .
He
made it all so difficult. We were so much alone always . . . What could I have done? My family – I still think they might easily leave us to
starve
. . . Only Edur . . . Osané knew that, and yet she . . . Her father was so angry with her . . . I didn't know what to do! There was nothing I could do . . . But she was my little girl, Nekané! I still can't believe . . . She was so lovely!'

‘She's still lovely,' I said sourly. I let that sink in, then I said, ‘You know she'd never have stayed near her father once she had the chance to get away.'

‘Nekané, I miss her so much. Couldn't you persuade her at least to come to Gathering Camp this Year? I've never even seen her little boy! Couldn't you do that for me, Nekané?'

‘Everyone will be at Gathering Camp this Year,' I told her. ‘And now we're talking about Gathering Camp' – I didn't change my tone: I wanted to take her by surprise – ‘Arantxa, if you don't want all the Auk People to hear who attacked Osané at Gathering Camp four Years ago – if you don't want the Go-Betweens to tell the People who did that – then you'd better tell me now why Edur brought Basajaun here. You'd better tell me everything that Edur said to your man.'

‘But – but . . . I gave my word . . . I don't know . . . No one told me . . .'

I let her protest for a little, and then I said, ‘It's not often a man gets cast out. A woman – almost never. I've seen many bad deeds forgiven, though never one forgotten. I've very seldom seen People cast out, even for a Year. I've never seen a man sent away from his People for the rest of his life. There are only two things a man can do which the People will never forgive – for which they'll cast him out for the rest of his life and never relent. Only two things. You know what those things are, don't you, Arantxa?'