Beginning at the End (Moon Child Trilogy: Book One)

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Beginning at the End (Moon Child Trilogy: Book One) Page 27

by Sandra Lang


  * * *

  A quarter cycle after the binding ceremony, the foreign traders from the west arrive in our bay. Our entire tribe walks out onto the beach to greet the newcomers with welcoming arms. Natoak and I stand with Narot and Tarok. I feel anxious because I will have to speak with the traders in their language. Natoak has been teaching me bits here and there all summer, but now I will have to speak with someone I am unfamiliar with.

  Narot greets the lead trader with a warrior’s handshake. “Welcome, friend,” he says in the trade language.

  “I see your tribe has prospered over the winter and the summer months.”

  “We have been fortunate since you were last here. I see you have brought new faces with you.”

  The man nods and beckons for his partners to step forward. “They are new to the trade and I agreed to bring them along. I promise they will not cause you any trouble.”

  Narot nods. “Friends of Darien, we welcome you to our shores. This is my son, Tarok, future Chief of Kurtu’lak; our Shaman and Wise Woman, who will be joining us in our trades; and our village.” As Narot points to each of us, we bow in respect and greeting.

  “A Wise Woman, huh? I did not know you had one,” the man Darien says.

  “She returned to us last fall.”

  Darien steps up to me and places his hand over his heart and bows deeply at the waist before standing upright. “Wise Woman of Kurtu’lak, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope that our presence does not cause the spirits discomfort and that they will approve all of our trades.”

  “Honest trades rarely cause discomfort, Darien of the West.”

  “I only give honest trades, Wise Woman. Of that you can be sure.” He steps away from me and back to Narot. “Please, let me introduce you to the men I have brought with me. Perhaps knowing their names will put your mind at ease.”

  He runs through a list of foreign names that I pay no attention to. I stare outward from our village and bay, looking out to the ship moored just beyond.

  Narot claps his hand down onto the trader’s and says loudly, “We have prepared a feast for you and your men in honor of your arrival. Please join us in the center of our village.”

  Even though these traders have arrived in our bay for many summers, there are new faces among them that we do not trust. These new faces are not to be trusted until they have proven themselves to be otherwise. Yet here we are, pretending that we trust these men because we need their wares and they need ours.

  The unbound women of age in our tribe dance in honor of the traders’ arrival. It is a traditional dance that is performed when anyone arrives on our shores. Within the Seven Tribes this dance is meant to show off the beauty and strength of the available women the host tribe has to offer our visiting brothers. Therefore it is not uncommon for a warrior from the visiting tribe to ask a woman to be his intended. The tradition helps keep new blood coming into the villages. The show we put on now is merely a formality. Narot has no intention of giving away any of our women to these men and expects their fathers to do the same. Tribal blood stays within the Seven Tribes. That is how it has always been and that is how we all intend to keep it.

  After our dancing, the women return to their families and we are allowed to begin the feast. I return to sit next to Natoak instead of Sharp Stone, which has been placed in higher standing because of my status. This makes them close enough that I could have a conversation with them if I wanted. Deep Forest was sat just as highly thanks to Tala’s bonding with Merick. I look at the two Houses with great pride. We were never considered to have low standing within the tribe, but we have never held positions this high.

  The spots next to me were filled by Merick and Tala before she dragged him off to dance not long ago. The spot is not empty for long, however; much to my dismay. One of the foreign traders whose name I cannot remember sits down next to me. He moves closer to where I sit and leans uncomfortably close to me. I try to ignore him and continue staring at my tribesmen dancing.

  “Are your parents here or is it just you?” he asks in the trading language.

  “My parents are just over there,” I say curtly and nod at the table where Sharp Stone sits.

  He looks over at them then shakes his head. “No, your birth parents.”

  This draws me to look at him. “They are my birth parents.” Maybe he did not see which ones I was talking about. Or maybe I misunderstood him the first time.

  He shakes his head sadly. “I see, you do not remember your birth parents.”

  “My birth parents are sitting right over there. Why would you think they are otherwise?” I ask a bit more boldly than I should.

  “Because you are a woman of the west. Surely you must have noticed by now.”

  “Akari,” Tarok says.

  I turn toward him. “Yes, Tarok?”

  “Is he bothering you?”

  “I do not understand what he is asking,” I tell him in our language.

  “What is he asking?”

  “Where my birth parents are. I pointed to them, but he does not believe me.”

  Tarok frowns. “You should not speak with him anymore. Go to your family.”

  I have half a mind to protest but the little voice in me insists I do what he says. He has worked with these traders more than I have and knows more about these men than I do.

  I turn back to the trader and give an apologetic smile. “Excuse me.”

  I stand and move to where my family sits. I join in their conversation until Tala pulls me away to dance with her. We spin and laugh and every time I glance at the main table on the platform, I see two sets of eyes watching me. One sends butterflies whirling around my stomach unbidden while the other sets my skin crawling.

  “I think you have an admirer,” Tala says loudly in my ear.

  “I think I have two.” I watch her skillfully glance up at the table and the two men looking at me.

  “You should stay away from the trader. He gives me a bad feeling.”

  “I am glad I am not the only one.”

  Tala and I stop dancing when the song ends and walk over to visit with Sarali. We sit on either side of her and watch the dancers when the music begins again.

  “He has not stopped looking at you,” Sarali says, nudging my shoulder.

  I look over to where the trader stands and briefly catch his eye. I quickly divert my eyes and respond, “The trader? Yes, I know.”

  “No, silly, I was talking about Tarok.”

  I glance over at Tarok who quickly turns his gaze elsewhere when our eyes meet. “Oh, he is just making sure the trader does not come near me. The man was asking strange questions after Tala and Merick left the feasting table.”

  “Like what?” Tala interjects.

  “He does not think my parents are my parents. He kept asking where my birth parents are. I am pretty sure that the man and woman I call ‘Father’ and ‘Mother’ are my real parents.”

  Sarali laughs. “If I did not know better I would assume you were not one of us. Oh, do not get upset with me. You know it to be true. You are just a bit different.”

  “Sarali, have you been drinking?” I ask.

  A smile pulls at her lips. “Maybe just a little.”

  I lean over so I can look at Tala. “What are we to do with her?”

  “Give her to Sirak and let him deal with it.”

  The two of us grab at Sarali’s arms and half-lift/half-drag her onto her feet. We work to steady her swaying body. “I think she had more than just a little bit,” I groan.

  “And what is worse is the trader is coming over,” warns Tala.

  “Oh let him come! It will be more fun this way,” says Sarali.

  Sirak, who has seen Tala and I struggling with Sarali, comes over to us. “Is she okay?” he asks.

  “She drank a bit too much, I think,” Tala says.

  “I will take her home.” He picks a giggling Sarali up into his arms. She leans into his ear and begins saying things I wish I could not hear. Ev
en the darkened sky could not hide the red tinge spreading through Sirak’s face and into his ears... nor the childish smile that settles on his lips.

  “Thank you, Sirak,” Tala and I say together.

  We sit back down and sigh with relief. “Sarali can be difficult to manage sometimes,” Tala says. “Are we not supposed to be the irresponsible ones?”

  “I would say so, but we have never been that responsible,” I reply nudging her shoulder.

  “Maybe I have not, but who knows what you did while you were away.”

  “I was busy learning how to be a Wise Woman while I was gone. What were you doing?”

  “Falling in love with my dear bond-mate,” Tala says, holding out her hand. Merick takes it in his and kisses her cheek.

  “I am sorry, Akari, but I need to steal Tala away.”

  I smile at the happy couple. “Please. Enjoy yourselves.”

  Tala and Merick move to the dance around the fire. I watch them laugh and smile and dance happily.

  “You are far too pretty to be sitting here alone and not dancing,” the trader says, causing me to jump. I had been so focused on Tala and Merick that I did not notice him walk up to me. He offers his hand and I reluctantly have to accept. A tribeswoman is not allowed to deny a dance when she is unbound.

  “Have you lived with these people long?” he asks, swirling me around into a form of dance I am unfamiliar with. He grips one of my hands while his other is at my waist. I am trapped within his grasp.

  “I am afraid I do not understand.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “I was born here.”

  “Then where are your parents? Did they die of disease?”

  “I do not know what you mean. My parents are alive and well. They are sitting right over there.”

  “I mean your real parents – the ones who gave birth to you.”

  “I told you earlier, my mother sitting right there gave birth to me 18 winters ago. My grandmother was there and saw me come out of my mother’s womb. What more proof do you need of my birth into this tribe?”

  “You look nothing like these people.” I do not like the way he says ‘these people’, as if we are some disease to be purged.

  “These people are my family. I promise you that I am a tribeswoman and not whoever you think I am.”

  “I can hardly blame you,” he says, clearly not listening to a word I have said. “Being raised amongst these people without knowing your real family would be a travesty if I do say so myself. But to believe you are one of them… they must have blinded you to your own ancestry.”

  I stop dancing and pull away from him. “I may look different than everyone else, but I am one of them. These are my people and whatever fantasy you have come up with is a lie. My people will always be my people. Enjoy the celebration, sir.”

  I walk away amidst the dancers and try to find any sort of safe haven to hide myself from the trader. I spot Natoak speaking with Granny and walk over to them. Tarok steps into my path before I can reach them with arms folded over his chest. Is there no end to my torment? He still had not spoken with me about our last conversation a quarter cycle ago. In fact, today is the first day he has so much as looked at me since then.

  “Why were you dancing with him?” Tarok asks with poorly veiled contempt.

  “Are you going to accuse me of wanting to run away with him, too?”

  “You should have declined his offer.”

  “And risk insulting the trading party and our people?”

  “But insulting him by leaving the dance is acceptable?”

  “I had good reason to do so!”

  “You should not have danced with him to begin with.”

  “What business is it of yours, Tarok? We are not intended.”

  “I do not trust him and I do not want you encouraging him.”

  “I am not encouraging him!”

  “Then why were you dancing with him?”

  “I have been insulted already by a man I do not know and do not want to know; I do not need to be further insulted by you.” I step around him and calmly walk toward the safety of Granny and Natoak. Inside, my heart is pounding violently against my chest and I can feel the slight shake to my fingers.

  “You have certainly caught the attention of more than one man this evening, my dear,” Granny says with a laugh.

  “Very funny,” I reply dryly.

  “I do not like you being around that new trader, Akari,” Natoak warns.

  “That makes you the third person concerned about it this evening. Shall I go talk to my father and make it four?”

  “You are being unreasonable, child,” scolds Granny.

  “How so? That crazy man does not think you are my grandmother or that Mother and Father are my parents. Tarok thinks I have loose morals and now I am being unreasonable?”

  “Come now, let me take you to cool off.” Granny links her arm through mine and drags me back to Sharp Stone.

  “Now, tell me, what is really bothering you?” she asks as we walk through the empty village.

  “Apart from that crazy man, everything is great.”

  “It is not and we both know it. You are my grandchild and I know an upset woman when I see one. What is the problem?”

  “Tarok is my problem. He constantly reminds me that he and I will never have anything more than friendship. It has strained our friendship to the point that I do not even want to be around him! Oh and I have not even told you the best part. I told him to talk to Namira about the history she and I have, for reasons I do not want to get into right now. She told him lie after lie and he said that he is more inclined to believe her!”

  “Child, people can often be blinded by responsibility. He may have to bind himself to her and what sense would it make for him to start their relationship believing her to be a liar?”

  “But she is a liar! She is worse than a liar and you know that. She-”

  “Tarok does not though. This is something he will have to learn for himself.”

  “I already told him what she has done to me and showed him the scars.”

  “And now he will have to decide for himself which of you is telling the truth.”

  “Then why is he trying to protect me? Does he not realize that right now we are not even speaking?”

  “I think deep within himself he feels guilt over believing Namira. He has not admitted he was wrong yet, has he?”

  “No, he has not.”

  “He may be trying to make it up to you in the only way he knows how without realizing it.”

  “He should have learned that does not work at the Summit,” I grumble.

  “Men do not always get things right the first time, Akari.”

  “That is very true.”

  “I remember when I was your age, your grandfather tried so hard to get my attention. He already had it, of course, but I was not going to let him know that. He kept trying to impress me with all the wonderful spears he could make. He would always throw them at the trees and end up lodging them so deep into the bark that he would struggle to pull them out. Even when he was able to, the spear head would break away from the shaft. Finally, he decided to make me a small dagger of whale bone and give it to me instead of proving his strength.” Granny pulls a small dagger from inside her overcoat. “I still have it and will take it with me into the Spirit World. When I see him again, I will give it back to him.”

  “That is sweet, Granny. All Tarok ever does is watch over me.”

  “He has a protective spirit, Akari. He just does not know how else to get your attention.”

  “So he would rather us argue every time we speak?”

  “As I said, men do not always get things right.”

  Chapter Eighteen

 

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