by Joe Zeigler
“Not yet,” he replied. “I believe we moved a little more in that direction today, but it’s going to take time. Selling the actual seeds would have been unthinkable not so long ago and may be unthinkable now. That is the first challenge. After we clear that hurdle, it becomes only a matter of price.”
“Yes,” Liùsaidh agreed, puzzled, “but isn’t the price the issue? If they want more than we can pay, what will we do?”
“It’s more than price,” Danijel said thoughtfully. “The seeds represent a new way of life. It will be a small step—a small field planted the first season in the Lowland and another in the Highland when we return in the spring. It will be a slight change in the way the People live. But it will be a change, a change in the habits of a people loath to change, a change for people who have not changed their way of doing things for thousands of years. Once the seeds are successful, other plants will be grown to our benefit, and the change will accelerate. Eventually, the People will enjoy the benefits of stable farms and an evolving civilization.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Liùsaidh exclaimed. “Praise Sun.”
“Sun has nothing to do with it other than to shine on the crops. I wish you would stop with this nonsense.”
Liùsaidh hated it when Danijel spoke this way. She and many others believed Danijel was Sun’s person. But why would he deny it and worse, deny Sun? It was confusing, though she knew that Sun was a mystery.
“Yes, Danijel, I’ll speak no more of it,” she promised, regardless of her feelings.
***
Ohad did replace the comb Micaela had given Danijel, and he was very pleased that she had thought of this promotion of his combs. However, it did not stop him from berating Micaela for her wasteful ways and lack of business understanding.
The next day the negotiations continued, with Danijel believing headway was being made. Thinking the matter would be settled the next day, he sent out hunting parties to stock up on meat for their journey.
“What of the Traders?” Aitor asked. “Will they not be offended that we have interfered with their trade in maize?” Though the Traders were not farmers, they did deal in maize. They traded for maize in the far south, ground it in their home villages, and hauled it north as a trade item.
“Yes,” Danijel replied, “they will be disappointed. But don’t worry; they are grown-ups, and these things happen. Like things have befallen them before, and they survived.”
“But they may express their displeasure in economic ways. They may raise the prices of other items that they sell to us. I must think of these things and protect my people.”
“I understand. Again, Gedeon and his people are mature. They understand business, and they understand that we, your people and mine, are customers. They understand that customers are to be kept happy. War with the customers benefits no one. Gedeon has a saying that he has subjected me to too often. He says, ‘It’s only business.’ Then he says, ‘It’s not personal.’ This attitude may seem harsh to you and me, but this is what he believes, and he will not take our agreement here today personally.”
Aitor nodded. “This sounds right, and what you offer is fair. I will talk with the others today and give you our decision before the Sun sets.”
“I will look forward to learning your decision.”
Danijel was pleased to see Micaela once again sitting on the log, running a comb through her hair. Apparently, Ohad had provided another comb. Sun, I did not do much for the child everyone has ignored—though not quite thoroughly shunned—since the Breeding. But they have kept their distance from Micaela. I imagine few have offered to pick lice from her hair. Danijel shook his head and walked on to speak to key people about his plan to move on in the morning.
Tsetseg intercepted him. “Danijel, I will not be leaving with you.” Stopping, he turned to face her, saying nothing.
“I’ve met someone, a Cliff Dweller, who I feel is right for me, and he feels the same. He has asked me to stay with him.”
Danijel nodded. “I’m happy for you, Tsetseg. Would you like me to speak for you?” He knew that she had no relative here to speak to the boy and his parents. But it was customary for a responsible, and preferably a formidable person to speak for the girl. The girl’s protector would explain what would happen if the girl was mistreated or abused. Danijel certainly was foreboding when he wanted to be, and Tsetseg knew it.
Once again he was impressed with this clever girl, who now wanted to use him to hedge her bets.
“I don’t want to trouble you, Danijel, but I have no one.”
“What is the boy’s name?”
“Wepwawet,” she answered. “Son of Aitor.”
This girl aims high, Danijel thought. I don’t think there will be any trouble with mistreatment, and I’m sure she doesn’t think so, either. So, he wondered, what is this about?
“Yes, I know Aitor. I will speak with him and the boy on your behalf.”
“Oh, thank you,” she gushed. “Aitor will be reassured.”
Ah, now I understand. She simply wants the boy and his parents to know that she has friends in high places.
“I will speak with them before we leave,” he said and turned to resume his task. I’ll also provide a proud dowry. This clever girl deserves it. And I’ll also have new friends in high places among the Cliff Dwellers.
Childhood’s End
His eyes were on Eijá’s butt as she glided effortlessly around the rocks. Occasionally his glance would move down to her shank or up to her tiny waist. He would have preferred to stare at her teats, but she was facing the wrong direction, and if he were in front of her, he would have to walk backward to see anything, and that might give away his intent. Not that he was certain his intent was unwelcome. She was, after all, out here alone with him, ostensibly to gather herbs, traipsing about, exhibiting herself to his lustful eyes.
Ah, I shouldn’t think that. I’m in love with Eijá and am here only to protect her. Perhaps tonight will be the time I’ve been anticipating for so long.
As she rounded a large boulder and disappeared, he heard a shriek. Ah, she’s found something good. He smiled as he thought how they could celebrate her wonderful find, whatever it was. As he moved forward, she came into view, seated on the ground and held on both sides by dark men wearing nothing but loincloths.
His first thought was, Aren’t they cold? Then something hard hit him on the side of the head, and he staggered but did not go down. Eijá gasped, and he swung wildly, connecting on the left and eliciting a grunt. He rotated his body to the left and followed it with a roundhouse swing of his right arm, ending in an enormous impact with a man’s face. Blood splattered into the air and then turned into a cloud of red fog. He smiled and followed with a left uppercut that landed on the man’s chin and slammed his opened mouth shut, cutting off the forthcoming scream originating with the previous strike and severing his tongue.
This fight is going well, he thought at the same time as he wondered who these men were. Eijá would fall into his arms after he successfully defended her from these barbarians. A picture of Eijá presenting herself to him, naked and inviting, formed in his mind just as an object swung with enormous force struck him on the back of his head. Eijá’s scream was quickly silenced by her captors as she struggled to break free and run to her suitor’s side.
No, she thought, I was too coy, waited too long, by just a little. She had planned to mate with him this very night. She had worn her most attractive garments and had caught him numerous times staring at various parts of her body. Yes, I would have had him. A tear formed in her eye. Now…now…now what? She was helpless…held captive by these more-than-half-naked men she didn’t know. And even if she escaped them, without prospect, she would be an item for the Breeding, to join Micaela as an honored outcast. As she considered the alternatives, her struggles diminished.
***
Later that day, Micaela traded the rest of her baskets. The vegetables she received in return would make a much bulkier load,
but she could make a travois to transport them and most of her other load. She had also traded for some braided hemp rope made by the Cliff Dwellers, in anticipation of the great drop in the trail that was soon to come. She would use the rope to lower everything. Then, when they arrived in the Lowland, she planned to cut it up and sell it to the men who liked to smoke it in their pipes. Micaela also indulged herself, something she did not often do, by trading for a small pottery cup, complete with a lid; something about the light-orange pottery called to her.
Early the next morning, the vanguard of the column was underway, with the others falling in line behind. Danijel and Liùsaidh were up front, with Micaela close behind, dragging her travois. It was easier now as the ground to the south sloped gently down, with little underbrush between the pines. The most severe obstacles were the rocks expelled from the volcanoes. They were of all sizes, from coarse gravel to jagged stones taller than a man. Micaela had to be careful to pick the best path for her travois.
Gwuune had the scouts out in all directions, and within the first hour, he started receiving reports of men shadowing them in the woods. Most likely Raiders. He reported to Danijel, who gave orders that no one was to wander off and become separated from the group. He felt that the weakened and demoralized Raiders would avoid confrontation but would not hesitate to attack stragglers. He also told Gwuune to bring the scouts in closer as reinforcements to the main body should they be attacked. There was no point in having them out at their usual distance if the shadowers could be inside their shield. No hunting parties were out, as they had been successful the previous day. For the rest of the day, they moved on through the pines, unmolested, impeded only by the ever-present stones that cluttered the sometimes narrow path.
“Danijel,” Glooscap reported, “as we left this morning, Tinga, the medicine woman, told me that her thirteen-year-old daughter, Eijá, is missing. The girl was out the previous day gathering herbs and prickly pear needles with a young boy and did not return. We found the boy an hour ago, dead, in a ravine east of last night’s camp. The back of his head had been smashed in. It was not an accident. We did not find the girl, though we did find tracks leading southeast. Cuidightheach and Gwuune are following and will report when they find something.”
Danijel nodded and dismissed Glooscap with a wave of his hand. So, he thought, it starts. Someone else might have thought, it continues, but Danijel usually thought of events as scenes in a play, each related to one another but also standing alone with a beginning, middle, and an end. This latest atrocity was the opening of the next scene.
They stopped for the night just before the trail led down a sheer cliff and entered the gorge that would take them all the way down to their destination in the Lowland—their winter home. Here there was a large clearing that people had used for years, and during those years, they had cleared most of the troublesome rocks. Because the clearing was surrounded by the pine forest, firewood was plentiful, and the clear stream, originating in the mountains above, ran through the center.
Liùsaidh, who had a fire going and Danijel’s camp organized even before the middle of the column moved into the clearing, went to help organize the encampment. Micaela, not far behind and seeing Ohad to be otherwise occupied talking to some prospective customers, also went to help. Danijel was passing the word there would be a communal dinner consisting of meat from the hunters and fresh vegetables supplied by the Cliff Dwellers—including the much-favored maize cakes.
The Drop
After dinner, Liùsaidh stood on the edge of the cliff where the stream tumbled over into the void. She could see where it joined the river flowing from the east and continued south once again, next to the trail they would follow. There would be no more water shortage.
“It’s a long way down,” Micaela said, walking up to stand beside her. Below, they saw the gorge continuing to the south, visually blocked in the far distance by a tall, broad plateau. At the moment, the most impressive feature was the drop before them.
“I have seen you dragging Ohad’s inventory,” Liùsaidh said. “Are you going to be able to get it down there?”
“I think so…I’ve plenty of rope, and Maxtla has offered to help. Between the two of us, it can be done.”
Liùsaidh nodded, impressed by the girl’s resolve. She wondered about Micaela’s loyalty to Ohad; he didn’t seem to deserve that kind of fidelity. She had seen stranger relationships—Iccauhyah and Şule for instance. No, that was different. She shook her head in resignation.
As the Sun disappeared behind the mountains and the last of the column arrived, the cooking fires blazed, and the People assembled in small groups and chatted about their days, their hopes, the Raiders, and the children. The same topics that were always discussed.
The next day, the People remained on the top of the cliff, among the ponderosa pines, organizing and securing their loads in preparation for the climb down as the scouts explored the trail forward—or more accurately, downward. It was narrow, barely a foot’s width in places, edging toward the long drop. The scouts would check—and repair if necessary—the handholds over the narrow portions of the trail. Some broad sections did exist, and Maxtla and Micaela planned to lower the goods from one wide area above to the next below. One of them would remain behind and lower the bundles. This would be impossible while the People were making their way down, and their operation would either bring the line to a halt or, worse, knock someone off the trail. Since the trail would start filling at sunup, they would have to wait to start until the last of the People had cleared at least the first two wide spots. Micaela had already followed the path all the way down to verify that her plan could be accomplished.
Maxtla and Micaela stood on top of the cliff as the People started down. They watched the slow progress along the trail as it followed the west wall of the deep gorge and switched back under itself, going out of sight toward the face of the cliff where they stood. Then the trail emerged again, spiraling down into the narrow gorge. Micaela could see that the scouts had rigged safety ropes along the most dangerous parts of the trail.
All depended on there being no delays. The days were shorter now, and they could not do this in the dark. They would begin lowering their load as soon as the column cleared the first wide spot below.
As the last of the People disappeared down the trail, Maxtla reached for Micaela’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers in an intimate way, causing Micaela to have strong emotional reactions in conflicting directions. She resolved the issue by whispering forcefully, “Maxtla, stop it. They will see.” She referred to the two old people, a man, and a woman still encamped on top of the cliff.
“What does it matter?” Maxtla replied, tightening his grip. “There is no one for them to tell, and in a couple of days, they will not be able to.”
Understanding Maxtla’s words, Micaela—with a mixture of shame, sadness, and guilt—realized that these old ones were people left behind to die and that they could hear them. Shaking her hand loose, she turned around and walked over to join the two seated on a broad, flat stone by a small fire burning bravely against the chill still in the air.
“Good morning,” she greeted them. “I know you. You are Oilabis and Ullah of the River family. You live by the Small Falls right after Big Bend.”
“Yes, we are, Micaela, and we, of course, know of you and your travails. But we are of the family no longer. My hip has failed me. I was able to make it this far with the help of Oilabis and some others; however, this is as far as I go. For me, the drop is impassable.”
Micaela said nothing, for there was nothing to say. Though deeply sad, this was the way of her people. They had been left behind and would die here, from starvation, wolves, or the cold.
“Perhaps you can convince Oilabis to go on,” Ullah continued. “She is fit and healthy; she can continue but is determined to stay with me.”
“No, I’m staying with Ullah,” Oilabis said softly but with strong feeling before Micaela could say anything. “I
’m old…It would not be long before I would be left behind as well. I have been with Ullah for many years, happy years, and don’t care to go on the trail without him.”
“Oilabis, once you get to the Lowland, the family will be there for the season. You will not be left. And when the family moves, there are people who live in the Lowland year-round whom you could live with. You would be of value…You might teach their children, cook for them, and weave baskets…many things. You have a long life ahead. Please, please go,” Ullah pleaded, with tears in his eyes.
Oilabis rose and moved to put more wood on the fire, taking it from a large, neat pile that someone had assembled for them before departing. Ullah said nothing more. He sat quietly, tears rolling from his eyes.
“I don’t know how it happened,” Oilabis said to make conversation. “I was just living my life, a happy life. Not without cares, but with more joy than sorrow. Suddenly, one day, I was the oldest person in the group—except for Ullah. I don’t know what happened. Well, that’s wrong…I know what happened, though, until that moment, I never thought it would happen to me.” Putting but two logs on the fire, she sat back down next to Ullah and leaned against him. “Well, I can take some solace in the fact that Ullah is older than I am, but not much.”
When the Sun was high, Micaela unpacked some food and prepared it for the four of them. To pass the morning, Oilabis had regaled them with stories of her escapades as a young girl. She had been a wild one in her day, Micaela learned. Maxtla seemed shocked at hearing some of her stories.
