Two Rivers (5 page)

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Authors: Zoe Saadia

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #United States, #Native American, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Two Rivers
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The wind gained power, shrieking wildly now, as though trying
to push them both back in the direction they had come from, as though wishing
to be alone, incensed with humans and their persistent interference.

Tekeni narrowed his eyes. “You should join this next raid
because you will have to avenge your dead, the people who died at the hands of
my people. Their spirits demand that you avenge them.”

“And then your people will come to avenge their dead ones,
won’t they?”

“Yes, they will.”

“And then?”

“And then your people will cross again…” He hesitated, thrown
out of balance. The old argument made little sense when said aloud in this dead
of the night before the flickering gaze of the strange man. Even in the
darkness, he could see the full lips twisting derisively. Oh, he should have
stayed in the storage room of his longhouse. He could have slept there through
the whole night if he wanted to, with no one the wiser. “Well, this is how it
works. We can’t change our ways.”

“So, here we are, back at the old argument with you saying
nothing in the meanwhile. This is how it works? Is that all?” The man’s
laughter rolled down the cliff, but there was no amusement in it. “Don’t take
offense, wolf cub. And don’t be tempted to try to hit me with any of those
sticks thrown around here. I was not insulting your intelligence. I’m not
laughing at you. You repeat what they say, and most of them can’t plead your
youth or your naivety. They should have known better, should have been able to
make a better argument, to present their claim in a way that would make sense,
even if a little. They are great orators, many of them, yet they forget their
abilities to make a speech the moment this particular subject comes up. They
can orate about laws and ceremonies, about hunting techniques and the way to
work the fields. They can talk well, make perfect sense, present our
traditions, our duties to the Great Spirits and our creator, the Right-Handed
Twin. They know the reason and the cause. They are very wise people. And yet,
when it comes to this particular subject, they lose their common sense. All
they can do is grow angry, crying out that ‘this is how it is done,’ disregarding
the damage that the perpetual war brings to our towns and villages, closing
their eyes to the deepening plight of our people.”

“We also worship the Right-Handed Twin,” said Tekeni, feeling
obliged to say something. The rest of the man’s speech was too strange to try
to comprehend.

“I would think so.” Seemingly not put out with the digression
from the main subject, Two Rivers shrugged. “Our creator, the Right
Handed-Twin, is too great not to revere.”

For a while they sat in silence, doing their best against the
wind.

“You don’t understand what I am talking about, do you? You
think it’s a waste of time.”

Tekeni took a deep breath. “Well, no, I don’t think it’s a
waste of time. I suppose you know what you are doing. You are a very wise
person, and a great orator, too.” Desperately, he sought something polite to
say. “I don’t understand what you mean by saying that the war is damaging your
towns. And about the plight of your people. I mean, yes, warriors get killed,
but this is the way it is. They know how to die with honor. I hoped to be a
great warrior, too. Like my father was. I wish I could be like him.”

“Was he a leader?”

“Oh, yes, he was our War Chief for, oh, summers upon summers.
He was so very great!”

“How did he die?”

The spasm in his stomach was back, as violent as always. “He
died on your side of the Great Lake. He was shot… shot by a wandering arrow.”
Swallowing, he tried to control his voice, which began trembling again, most
annoyingly at that. His father’s story was worthy of a sterner voice. “If he
had lived, we would win this battle. He always won.”

He listened to the wind, now welcoming its unwavering strength.
His father’s spirit might have been there, in this fierce, groaning force;
listening, maybe.

“That was when you were taken captive?”

“Yes.”

“How old were you?”

“I saw fifteen summers back then.” He swallowed so hard it hurt
his throat. “I… I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should have died like a
warrior. He trusted me to do that, but I failed.”

“I wouldn’t judge you too fast.” The man’s voice held no
amusement this time, a trace of compassion in it obvious. “You were a mere boy
back then, and you are still too young to be a true warrior. You have a long
journey ahead of you, and you may still make your father proud.”

His vision was blurred, and he felt grateful for the darkness
now. If only his voice would stop trembling!

“I won’t have this chance. Even if I don’t die in the next few
dawns, I won’t be given the opportunity to turn into a great warrior. No one
trusts me here. No leader would be willing to take me in his raiding party.”

“Well, it will be more difficult for you, yes. But not
impossible. You will have to try harder than the rest, but if you are strong
and believe in yourself and your destiny, you will make it.” A shrug. “Maybe
this incident will do you good in the long run. It might make you grow up, it
might teach you to control your temper, it might make you change your ways.”
The amusement crept back into the deep voice. “But tell me something else. What
if one of the leaders invites you to come along, allowing you to join his
raiding party? Will you enjoy raiding your former people’s lands? Will you feel
good laying waste to your father’s town?”

He felt it like a blow in his stomach, and for a moment, his
heart stopped. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t think…”

“Can they trust you not to run away the moment you crossed the
Great Lake?”

He cupped his face with his palms. “No, I suppose not,” he
whispered, his heart beating fast.

Oh, Mighty Spirits! Here was the solution, the wonderful,
beautiful, perfect solution! How didn’t he think about it before? He felt the
blood rushing into his cheeks, his heart pumping insanely, as though trying to
jump out of his chest. Taking a deep breath, he tried to control his voice.

“Yes, they can trust me. Of course, they can. I would never do
something like that. I belong to Wyandot people now. Not to my former people.”
He took another breath, pleased with the way it came out. “I was adopted
formally. There is no way back from this.”

Had he taken it too far?
The laughter of the man broke
the silence, a hearty, amused laughter.

“Oh Mighty Spirits, I’m afraid I just gave you an idea, wolf
cub!”

Tekeni fought an urge to cover his burning cheeks. “No, you did
not. I’m telling you, I would never do this.” He peered at the man, seeing the
outline of the well-defined profile, the high forehead, the long, aquiline
nose, the shaved sides of the head with an oiled hair sticking up proudly,
fluttering in the wind. The warriors’ hairdo. “You have to believe me,” he
added, desperately.

“Do I?” The man turned his head, and even in the darkness, the
amused spark in the large eyes was obvious. “You said I’m a wise person, great
orator and all. Do you think you can fool me that easily? Oh no, boy. You are
as transparent as the waters of the lake on the fine summer day. It is so easy
to see through you. You are almost shining now, your desperation gone. You’ve
been given a plan.” His teeth flashing in the widening grin, the man shook his
head. “But it’s a difficult plan that will require an enormous amount of
patience. More than you indicated as having so far. A lot of time, a lot of
effort, a lot of convincing to do on your part. A lot of impeccable behavior.
Maybe you would be able to pull it through, maybe not. Or maybe you would
change with the passing of summers while you go about implementing your plan,
and then you will find yourself in a real trouble, torn between two ways of
life, with too many loyalties to keep.”

“I will not do any of this,” muttered Tekeni stubbornly,
wishing to be alone more than anything now. He had so much to think about, all
of a sudden. “I wish I could convince you of that.”

“Oh, you don’t have to convince me of anything. I won’t be
running to the Town Council, informing them of our conversation. You are an
interesting boy, and I will be watching you, but not in an attempt to catch you
doing something wrong. I’m curious to know what will come out of you now.
Should you decide to pursue this goal, battling the odds in trying to turn into
a perfect warrior, whether to truly help our people or to make your escape
easier, I’ll be enjoying watching this story unfold. It will be too interesting
to miss, regardless the ending.” He sprang to his feet, swift and strong, a
slender man of an average height, but a perfect hunter and warrior,
nevertheless. “I will try to help you out with your current predicament as best
as I can. You made me curious, wolf cub, whether you represent your fierce
former country folk or not. You gave me food for thought. I will repay you for
this by helping you out.”

Strong and imposing, the man shook his head, turning around and
diving into the darkness, his paces making no sound. One moment there, the next
gone. A true warrior.

Tekeni let his breath out. His head reeled, and the excitement
was bubbling too near the surface, making him want to scream into the wind. Or
maybe to whoop with joy. The meaningless existence was over. He had a plan, and
he would work hard implementing it. He would not let anything stop him now,
anything at all.

It wouldn’t be easy, said Two Rivers, and a man of his caliber
would know. Still, he would manage to do that. He already felt stronger, a man
with direction, a man with a plan. Not a pitiful cub of no importance, dragging
along purposelessly. Not anymore!

He grinned into the wind. And Two Rivers thought he could
actually make it. He said so himself. He said he would be watching.

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

The heat was unmerciful, softened only a little by the breeze
coming from the hills. Seketa wiped her brow. Glancing at the sky once again,
she wished the sun would move faster. Today, of all days, she didn’t want to be
in the field. She needed to go back to the town, to see what was happening.

The Town Council had not arrived at a conclusion last night.
They refused to discuss the matter any further until the news on Yeentso and
his condition would be more definite. The fate of the Wolf Clan boy would
remain undecided until then.

Oh, how furious the Mothers of the Beaver Clan were. Huddling
in the shadows behind the corner of her longhouse, trying to hear it all,
appalled with herself for doing the unspeakable, Seketa remembered how her
heart beat faster and faster, louder and louder, threatening to give her
presence away.

Why she had done this, she didn’t know. To eavesdrop on the
Honorable Mothers of her clan was the peak of bad manners, a terrible
discourtesy, behavior screaming against her entire upbringing.

She bit her lips and welcomed the pain, never before suspecting
what a horrible person she was. Still, she did not leave, but stayed in her
barely hidden place, listening to the leading women talking in anger, about the
stubbornness and the arrogance of the men in general, and the Town Council
members in particular.

Nothing was said about the savages from across the Great
Sparkling Water, but their anger germinated from there, a fruit of their
frustration with the despicable enemies and the wild boy who would not fit no
matter how many chances he had been offered.

She remembered last night and the conversation in the storage
room of the Wolf Clan’s longhouse. He didn’t seem wild or dangerous back then.
Quiet, wary, aggressive in a defensive way.
Cornered
. But not
submissive, not humbled or defeated. He should have been looking this way, but
for some reason, he had not.  Instead, his eyes blazed with anger, and his lips
told her he wanted Yeentso dead. Even though it would mean his own death, too.
What temper! And what pride. But what courage, too. Such an honorable way to
face one’s own deeds.

Frowning, she took her gaze away from the sky. If forced to
die, he would do so with honor. He would not shame himself by begging for
mercy, not him. He would go proudly, and his eyes would sparkle, and his back
would be straight, unyielding.

Aware of her burning cheeks, she knelt to pull the weeds from
the nearest pile in the earth. The next moon they’d be gathering the first crop
of the sweet, early corn, preparing it for the Green Corn ceremony, the second
most important ceremony of the whole cycle of seasons. There would be solemn
rituals, bountiful feasts, merry festivities and sacred and social dances,
lasting from dawn to dusk, for many, many dawns. Oh, how she loved this
particular ceremony!

Would he still be alive by that time? Would he be allowed to
participate in the social activities? Would he be there, watching her dancing?

“I wish it were already past midday.” Tindee’s voice jerked
Seketa back from her thoughts, tossing her into the sweat-soaked reality of the
heat and the buzzing insects. “I’m so tired!”

Seketa sighed. “I know. The sun is moving slower for me today,
too.”

“Why would it move slower for you, sister? You did nothing last
night. We waited for you behind the tobacco plots, but you never came.”

“Oh, well,” Seketa frowned, feeling her cheeks beginning to
glow anew. “I didn’t feel like smoking. I was tired.”

Tindee’s laughter rolled between the stacks of maize, trilling
prettily. “We did more than just smoking, you lazy lump of meat. I told you not
to miss it, but you didn’t listen.”

“What did you do?”

“Why would I tell you?”

Seketa laughed. “Because you always tell me, whether I want to
listen or not.” She picked up her basket. “Also, if it was such a good pastime,
maybe I’ll come tonight.”

“We won’t be doing it tonight. We need to sleep, all of us. I’m
telling you, it was way after midnight, when I came back, and I had to sneak
past grandmother’s compartment like a real forest mouse.”

“They didn’t hear you?”

“No. Not even my mother, who sleeps next to me.” The girl eyed
the ripening ears of maize wistfully, running her fingers along one such. “I
wish it were good for eating already. I’m starving.” She looked up, her eyes
glittering, full of mischief. “My brother told me this morning that he saw me
sneaking in, but he won’t tell on me. Not him. I know too many things about him
and that girl from the Wolf Clan’s longhouse. Until he makes her his woman, he
will not dare to anger me.”

Wolf Clan
!

“I wish I knew what they decided to do about yesterday’s game.”

Tindee’s snort was loud, full of meaning. “Why would you worry
about that? I don’t care for Yeentso. He is rude and violent, and he is always
looking at me as though he would want to do dirty things. And I don’t care for
the foreign boy, either. Another violent good-for-nothing. This town will be
better off without both of them, come to think of it.”

For some reason, Tindee’s words hurt.

“This boy is not rude and not violent. He is nice, actually.
And he didn’t hit Yeentso for no reason. We couldn’t see, but Yeentso was the
one to attack him first.” Uncomfortable under the widening gaze of her friend,
Seketa frowned. “Yes, it was like that. I know it now.”

“How do you know? Who told you?”

“The foreign boy.”

Tindee’s eyes grew to enormous proportions. “You talked to this
boy? When?”

“Yesterday.” She pulled at another bunch of weeds. “It was in
the evening, for a short time.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just met him, by mistake.”

“And you stopped to talk to him? You? I don’t believe it!”

“Why not?” Seketa clenched her teeth, furious with herself for
confiding in her chatty friend. She knew perfectly well why not.

“You are the most unapproachable human being that the
Right-Handed Twin has ever created,” cried out Tindee, drawing quite a few
glances from the surrounding women. Lowering her tone, she peered at Seketa,
her eyes glittering with excitement. “You never bother to be nice to boys; you
never talk to them unless you want to scold them for something. But suddenly,
oh-so-very-proud Seketa goes to a boy and asks him to tell her what happened?”
The suggestive smile upon the girl’s lips made Seketa wish to strike her
friend. “Did you take your time to comfort him, too, to make him feel better?
Did you?”

“Oh, stop talking nonsense!” Not it was Seketa’s turn to cry
out, then moderate her voice. “I can’t believe I told you. You are so silly!”

“I’m not silly, sister.” Tindee’s voice trembled with barely
concealed satisfaction. “I can see this spark in your eyes, and your cheeks are
now the color of my festive dress. The one with the purple girdle. Just the
same color.”

Against her will, Seketa brought her palms to cover her cheeks.
“It’s hot! The sun is making my skin burn.”

“Of course, Seketa, of course.”

“Will you leave me alone? I can’t believe I told you any of it.
I will never tell you a thing in my entire life, not one single thing!”

“Come on, sister. Calm down.” Grabbing Seketa’s hand, Tindee
pulled her back into the shadow of the corn leaves. “I won’t tease you anymore,
I promise. This boy will die soon anyway, so he won’t make us argue again.”

“He won’t die. I saw Yeentso this morning, on my way out. He
was sitting, eating porridge. Or maybe it was a soup. Dying people don’t eat.”

  “Yes, I saw him, too. I was so tired I could barely see, and
I couldn’t care less for the annoying man.” Tindee’s pretty face crinkled with
laughter. “But they sent me to bring him fresh water from the outside, so I had
to see him, even if against my will.”

Seketa nodded. “See? So he is not dying, therefore, the boy
won’t have to die either.”

“Oh, that’s what you think. But not what our Clan’s Mothers
think.”

She felt her heart sinking. “What do they want?”

“They will be talking to the Town Council again. I overheard
them speaking of this not long ago.”

“What will they be talking about?”

“Well, you know how it is. The offense was made. Even if
Yeentso heals with no trouble, they want compensation. He is in the longhouse
now, of no use to the community. Neither his wife nor her sister went into the
fields this morning. Further damage to the Beaver Clan. And the old healer
woman was late for the fields, too, because she took her time boiling herbs.”
Serious for a change, Tindee looked around, thrusting her arm out in an
exaggerated manner, pointing toward the densely planted stakes of maize. “See
how we have to work harder now, because less women are here to help us out? Our
clan deserves to be compensated, does it not?”

Involuntarily, Seketa’s eyes followed her friend’s hand,
watching the cracks in the dry earth. There were yet many plots in need of
watering, many plants in need of tending. They would have to work until the sun
would be well on its way to its resting place, until dusk, maybe. Tindee was
right about that.

“Well, the death of this boy won’t make our work any easier,”
she said uneasily, raising her gaze to glance at the platform, towering high
above the field. Two women sat there alertly, staring at the horizon, each
peering at her different direction. Once upon a time, Seketa knew, there were
no watching platforms, and people would just go out and work the land. Or so
said the elders, although such stories did not make sense. How could people
walk about or work the fields with no one watching? How would they manage to
flee back into the safety of the town’s fences in the case of an enemy’s attack
with no one watching to warn them in time?

“No, but our clan should be compensated,” Tindee’s voice broke
into her thoughts.

“With what?”

“They were talking about hides, maybe. Like ten pieces of good
hides with no holes and no tears.”

“Oh!”

“Yes, oh. It won’t be fair if people would be allowed to wound
other people, taking them out of the normal daily life, rendering them useless
for the community. It would make a bad precedence.”

“All right, I do see their point. Our Clan Mothers are wise.”
Seketa shrugged. “Well, the Wolf Clan would have to pay us those hides, that’s
all.”

“If they think it’s fair, yes, they’ll pay.”

“If?” She peered at her friend, puzzled. “Why would they argue?
It’s not fair to leave us with no compensation.”

“Well, no, of course not. But they may be angry with the
annoying boy for forcing them into this. They may not take it kindly.”

“What will they do to him? What did you hear?”

Tindee shrugged. “I heard they may let him take the
responsibility. He has seen close to seventeen summers. He is of an age. Old
enough to tell him ‘go and get those things to pay up, wild boy. By whatever
means you have’.”

“Do you mean to say they would send him to obtain those hides
all by himself?” gasped Seketa, aghast. “It’s the same as to kill him right
away. No one hunts outside all alone, no one! Not even the best of our hunters
and warriors. And certainly not boys with no training or skill.”

Shrugging again, Tindee turned toward the nearby row of stakes.
“Maybe they do want to get rid of him. He is a nuisance, doing not one single
thing right, bringing nothing but trouble. They hoped for something better than
this, when giving the enemy cub a chance.” She looked back, flashing a fleeting
smile, one of those nice, unguarded smiles of hers. “Get busy. The old healer
and one of the elder women are watching us. I don’t fancy hearing any more
lecturing about the unworthiness of the young girls.”

Picking up her basket, Seketa rushed toward the other piles of
earth, wishing to put a distance between her and her gossipy friend, her heart
beating fast.

Why should she care? she asked herself, angered. This boy was
of no consequence to her. Who was he, if not just another member of the Wolf
Clan? A troublesome member, at that. Last night was the first time she had
spoken to him, although, for some time she had been aware that he was watching
her, quietly and covertly. She had noticed, of course. Their town was not that
large, and he had participated in many ballgames, if in not as many hunting
expeditions as the youths were required to participate. He was not trusted.
Apparently, with a good reason. And yet…       

She remembered the way his eyes glimmered, large, beautifully
spaced, challenging and haunted at the same time. And he was not the only one
to blame for what happened. He didn’t lie to her, of that she was sure. There
were many witnesses to relate the story. He would be caught in his lies if he
tried.

She pulled at the weeds angrily, throwing them into her basket
without looking. A wise person would keep away from this mess, and she was held
to be a smart girl.

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