The Shaman's Apprentice

by B. Muze

  Koban taught Jovai politeness. One usually addressed the wife first, even if the husband were the civil leader, when visiting a couple’s home — especially if it were a matriarchal family. When in a public meeting, however, one addressed the husband first. He taught her the forms of speech to use at different occasions and with different clans. There were also the kind of gifts that were expected to be made and when and how they were to be received. Also, looking forward to a more prosperous time, the kind of clothes and body decorations that were to be worn for different occasions.

  “The Bat Clan organizes the festival of the Fresh Fruit Dropping and also the plea to Stafe for the winter solstice. Difsat may ask you to pledge to them at either festival.”

  Jovai shrugged.

  “I have told him I do not want to be of the Bat Clan.”

  Koban stared at her, shocked.

  “The Bat Clan chooses very few, and no one who is chosen has ever refused them. It is a very great honor and has more privileges than any other clan.”

  “I would rather be of some other clan — maybe of the Hawk Clan if they would take me.”

  Koban smiled in pride.

  “You would have to pass many tests. You would have to be very strong and very brave and very fast. If they accepted you, you would have to live many years without a wife or family — only with the clan — until the master decides to release you. You would have to be obedient. I think that would be hard for you, Latohva.”

  “I’ve been very obedient lately,” she protested.

  Koban laughed.

  “You do what you’re told only because you have nothing better to do. I guess that the first time someone asks you to do something with which you disagree you will argue. In the Hawk Clan, you cannot argue. If you are not obedient, you could die in shame and others could die because of you. You would do better in the Bat Clan. They are more used to being obeyed than to having to obey.”

  “No. Difsat said once that the Hawk Clan wanted me, because of the way I fought and frightened all your warriors.”

  Koban flushed angrily. Jovai didn’t remember who the warriors had been and it occurred to her, too late, that one of them might have been Koban.

  “You didn’t fight like a real warrior,” he sneered at her. “You only cast little spells to frighten us. If we hadn’t been so tired from many months of traveling, they wouldn’t have worked, and you would be long dead now.”

  “Maybe so,” she answered, “but it did work. It’s easier to fight an enemy who’s running away. Fewer people get hurt. Besides, it wasn’t a very fair contest with me and the Gicok in the collar and the rest of you free to kill us at your leisure.”

  “The White One did well. He is a true warrior, even if he is a thieving, barbarian White One. But you…”

  Jovai ducked and jumped back just barely avoiding Koban’s unexpected blow. He pulled a knife from his belt and lunged at her with it. His attacking arm slid down hers, safely deflected, and his body followed to land, face down, in a tangle of nearby bushes.

  “Is this a test or do you really mean to hurt me?” asked Jovai, watching Koban warily as he picked himself up.

  “That’s what I mean,” he answered stiffly. “A warrior does not ask stupid questions. When someone attacks you, it doesn’t matter why. Here…” he reached for her hand. She let him take it and found her arm suddenly twisted behind her back and a knife at her throat.

  “Now you’re dead,” he told her, his breath tickling her ear.

  She stood trembling in his arms. His body was pressed against her back, and his long hair brushed her cheek. She turned her head, letting herself inhale the salty smell of his sweat, letting herself feel his heat, letting her gaze meet and hold his laughing eyes. She wanted to reach her lips to soften the firm line of his. He pushed her away quickly. When she turned back to him, he was staring at her in shock.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.

  She was shaking so hard she didn’t think she could move. Then she started running and couldn’t stop until she found herself on the bank of the river.

  She crouched behind a tree, half afraid, half hoping that he had followed her. He wasn’t there. She tried to relax. She tried to listen deeply, to listen for him, then caught herself in shame as she recognized her madness. She sat, facing the river, away from Koban. She pushed her breath past the tightness in her throat and forced her heart to beat slower and softer until it no longer pounded against her ribs.

  Chapter 36

  Exposed

  It was many hours after dark before Jovai felt ready to return to the camp. The family was already asleep, and she found her bedroll laid out and waiting. Milapo stirred partly awake as she entered but, recognizing the newest addition to her family, drifted back to sleep.

  The next morning Jovai spent helping to clear bits of the forest for planting. It was bright, warm noon before Koban met up with her for her daily lesson. She looked up from the stump she was chopping and saw him watching her from across the field.

  He signaled her to come to him. She started walking.

  “Hurry” he yelled. “Run!”

  She obeyed as he stood watching.

  “It’s a warm day,” he remarked as she stopped in front of him. “Why do you wear so many clothes?” He reached for the fur pieces she still wore over a long, loose tunic. She pulled back alarmed.

  He waved his hand at the rest of the people in the field.

  “Everyone else has shed their clothes.”

  “I’m comfortable,” she answered.

  “You’re strange, and you look over-hot. We will swim. That will cool you down.”

  “I don’t want to swim,” she told him.

  “I’m the teacher. You obey me.”

  “No,” she answered. “I’ve learned enough of the language now to learn the rest by listening. I don’t need a teacher anymore.”

  “Listen, Latohva. I am your teacher until my clan leader or your family leader says otherwise. While I am your teacher, you must obey me. If I tell you we are going swimming, then we will swim. You’re sweaty, and you stink.”

  “I will wash later. Now I have work to do — real work. If you want an excuse to be lazy, find someone else.”

  He glared at her, speechless with anger, his skin flushed a deeper shade of red, and his fist curled rigidly at his sides. Jovai left him glaring after her as she returned to work in the field. When she looked up again several minutes later, he was gone.

  He had been right about her smell. She bathed every morning, in the custom of her people, but she worked hard during the day in heavy clothes. Difsat’s tent was large enough for all that was left of his family to sleep and two or three more if everyone slept close, but still, it was likely her odor might discomfort them, especially if it were strong enough for Koban to smell even with normal space between them. She had bathed two or three times a day while she was bleeding. She decided to continue the practice even now that her bleeding was over.

  She slipped away just as the sun was beginning to set and made her way to a hidden little cove she had discovered. It was off a fork of the main river between several large boulders and through some thick bushes. She stripped off the hides and furs and dived in, tunic and all. The water was a little warmer after a day of sun, but it was cool enough to refresh and send pleasant shivers through her skin.

  As she came up, she thought she heard another splash. She looked around. The water was rippling everywhere, and little silver fish darted about just under the surface, but no one else was to be seen.

  Then something grabbed her leg and pulled her under the water. She thrashed around in panic. The thing, she thought it was the same as had her leg, wrapped a strong limb around her waist. The water was too murky to see what it was. She kicked and struggled, but it wouldn’t let go. It just dragged her deeper, then suddenly plunged toward the surface, pulling her up with it, and she could breathe again.

  Water streamed into her eyes and mouth. She c
oughed and shook her head and kept struggling against the thing which wouldn’t let her go. She felt something like a hand groping at her chest and working its way down her body and between her legs. If she could only break free enough to get her feet firmly on the bottom…

  And he was laughing. It was a man. She managed to twist around and instantly, angrily, recognized him as Koban.

  “I knew it!” he exclaimed. “You are a woman!”

  “Let me go!” she yelled, furious. Her struggling increased, now that she knew what she was fighting and where to kick. He protected himself well as his hand glided over her hips, up into the curve of her waist and once again over the small bulges of her breasts. Then he let her go.

  She scrambled out of the pool, her wet tunic clinging to her body, depriving her of any remaining shred of mystery.

  Koban watched her, a broad and very satisfied grin on his face.

  She shivered with cold in the cooling air and hastily threw her fur pieces over her wet clothes. Behind her, she could hear the water splashing as Koban climbed out of it.

  “Stay away from me!”

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his voice full of dare. He was closer than she had thought.

  “Just stay away.”

  She grabbed what was left of her clothes, leapt over the rocks, and ran away.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Milapo, looking up from her ministrations over the outside cooking fire, as Jovai arrived at the tent red-faced and panting.

  “Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile to give truth to her lie, “I just felt like running. Didn’t want to miss dinner again.”

  “You’re early,” said Milapo. She pointed to a bowl of fruit. “You can help by peeling those.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jovai saw Koban running toward them.

  “I just remembered…I have to find Difsat. Be right back,” and she ran away. Koban was stopped by Milapo and forced by politeness to exchange words. He didn’t follow further.

  “Difsat, I need to talk with you,” said Jovai, accosting him as he left the tent of the Mirsant’s dying family head.

  He frowned at her rudeness.

  “That’s not the way to approach your family head. Hasn’t Koban taught you anything?”

  “Forgive me,” she begged.

  He silenced her apology with a wave of his hand.

  “Good things or bad?” he asked.

  “I…I don’t know,” she stumbled. “Personal things. I was just thinking…”

  “Then it’s probably bad and will have to wait until after dinner. Right now, I’m hungry.”

  The dinner progressed with pleasant chatter, as was the rule. As soon as it was over, Milapo claimed the attention of her husband. Jovai waited outside for her turn, at a distance where she would not hear their words, although their laughter was too loud to miss. Finally, Milapo came out and signaled Jovai to take her turn.

  When she entered the tent, Difsat was still chuckling.

  “Now you may tell me what you were thinking,” he told her.

  “Father of our family,” she began with the correct address and polite bow. Difsat smiled in approval. “It is a time when our people must work very hard. Already we have missed the planting time of many of our crops and winter will come soon and may claim lives for lack of proper shelter…”

  “I know all this,” Difsat interrupted. “Now what’s your problem?”

  “I would like to be of more use to my new people,” she answered. “I have learned the language enough to be a good worker, and now it is only a matter of my using it to perfect my ability to speak. At a time when every strong back is needed so badly, I feel like a thief to steal time for lessons, to steal my strength from where it serves my new people and to steal a strong and healthy man from pursuits that would benefit everyone more.”

  Difsat stared at her thoughtfully. There was a funny expression in his eyes, like a kind of slyness she did not understand.

  “You think you’ve learned enough, do you?”

  She answered carefully: “I think what more I have to learn can be taught me in the long, cold winter nights when there is nothing else to do.”

  “There’s always something else to do. There will be tools to make and mend and clothes to sew and food to forage for. I’m sure we could trust you to keep yourself busy.”

  “Then I will be busy serving my new people.”

  “An honorable desire, but I wonder how much of it is honest. Milapo tells me Koban asked her to get you proper clothes for a woman.”

  Jovai stared at him open-mouthed in shock, then turned her face away to hide her blush of anger and shame.

  “It is not his concern what I wear!” she exclaimed. “These clothes suit me very well.”

  “No. He is right. Your clothes are a lie, and it does not speak well of you that you would lie to us.”

  “But you know the truth.”

  “I know. Milapo knows. Our family knows. The clan heads know, but only because I told them when I claimed you for the Bat Clan. Others may guess. No one will say much. You are a stranger, and much is forgiven on that account, but Koban is right. If you want to be one of us, you must learn our ways and follow our customs and wear our clothes — the right clothes. And you must learn to speak. That is more than words. It’s not just what you say but how and when. You’ve learned the words remarkably quickly, but you still don’t know how to use them. That’s what Koban is for.”

  “But those things I can learn later…”

  “No!” snapped Difsat. “Don’t argue. Now I’m speaking not only as your family head but also as your civil leader. The building and planting is important, yes, but being one people, a people who know how to work together, how to be together, is even more important. If I were to dismiss your teacher, then I would have to treat you like all the others. I would have to punish you for all the stupid, thoughtless things you do every day because you don’t know any better. Now when you say or do something wrong, people let it go, knowing that Koban will teach you better soon. If there were no one to teach you, no hope anymore that you would learn, you would be intolerable. It is good that you help us work, but that means nothing much. There is no one so strong or so hard working that we would let him stay among us if he acted badly.”

  “I respect your wisdom, Family Father,” said Jovai with as much politeness as she knew. “I will continue with a teacher and be thankful for your consideration, but perhaps someone older, someone weak who would not be so badly missed from the labor — an older woman perhaps who could teach me more of appearing like a woman in your society than a man could — would not someone like this make a better teacher for me?”

  “Perhaps…” Difsat leaned forward and patted Jovai’s knee affectionately, “But Koban requested the honor at a time when it seemed a warrior was what was needed to keep you under control. He was granted the honor and has done well by it. To dismiss him would be to dishonor him. Can you tell me anything he has done that would be reason to dishonor him?”

  Jovai thought of his “attack” on her at the pool, but could think of no fair way to speak of it that would not make it sound like a harmless game. She knew herself there had been nothing more prompting it than his curiosity and possibly a bit of justified anger for the way she had spoken to him earlier.

  “What about Gilix?” asked Jovai with sudden inspiration. “Her punishment is over, isn’t it? She could come back anytime. She was my first teacher.”

  “She was dishonored. Besides, she has not come back. She hasn’t even been seen. Her return is not expected.”

  “Has there been news?” asked Jovai, suddenly alarmed.

  “That’s not a question you should ask. She has nothing to do with you anymore.”

  “Forgive my impertinence. I know it is wrong, but I still feel responsible for getting her in trouble.”

  “No, Latohva. You’re very childish about this matter.” He sighed, looking suddenly like a frumpy, old wife. “All right. All we
know is that she left the day she received her punishment. No one stopped her to ask where, since she was shunned. The Hawks say she went toward the White One’s camp, but they didn’t follow her to make sure. She hasn’t been seen since. She is certainly nowhere nearby, or the hunting parties would have found some sign of her. I asked the Hawks and Dogs to find what they could about her, but by now there is no trace, not even a corpse.”

  “You think she’s dead?”

  “We probably won’t ever know. It was foolish of her to leave the camp. It might have made the punishment harder to stay, but she would have been safe here. It’s not a good world to be alone in.” He shrugged. “If anything happened to her it happened far away. That’s all we know. But if she were still alive why wouldn’t she come back?”

  He shrugged and sighed again.

  “I liked the girl. She was too much of a flirt. Her family indulged her and wouldn’t make her choose a husband, but they were changing their minds about that. Marriage would have settled her, and we need babies now — babies that might be strong men by the time the Akarians find us again. It hurts to lose such a promising young mother.”

  He turned to Jovai again, thoughtfully. She didn’t like the look in his eyes.

  “It’s not your fault,” he told her in conclusion. “It’s not even mine. Everyone makes his own choices.”

  “Then I can choose to wear the clothes I want?” she asked, turning the subject away from the painful. It worked. Difsat startled at the question then laughed.

  “Koban’s your teacher. You do what he tells you.”

  “Everything?” asked Jovai, blushing deeply.

  Difsat laughed again.

  “He is of the Hawk Clan. They can be trusted to do only what’s proper. If he orders you to do anything really bad, you can complain to me. Otherwise, he is your teacher and your authority. Do you understand?”