by Kate L. Mary
She said nothing else, and I studied her, trying to understand what she was saying and why she looked so sad over the loss of Gaia. I, of all people, understood risking everything for a friend, but the expression on Xandra’s face was different. More like heartbreak.
“You love her,” I said, realization dawning on me.
“I do.” She looked my way out of the corner of her eye, but did not lift her head. “Does it make you think less of me?”
“No. I cannot because I know what it means to love, and I know that you often have no control over these things.” I reached out to Xandra then, laying my hand on her arm. “You are not alone. You must know that. We have all heard stories about the Huni living this way.”
Xandra kept her gaze down, plucking at a few blades of grass and ripping them to shreds before tossing them over the cliff. “I am not Huni, Indra. I am Winta.”
“Not anymore. Now you are only Xandra.” She finally turned her gaze on me when I gave her arm a squeeze. “We will get her back. I promise.”
Xandra let out a deep breath, looking away when tears filled her eyes. She blinked, trying to hold them back, but the effort was useless. One escaped and slid down her cheek.
She wiped it away violently. “We do not even know if she is alive, and the only way to find out is to go to the city. But we cannot do that. It is too dangerous.”
She was right. We had no way of knowing what was happening in Sovereign City, if our people were alive or dead, or even how many there were. But Xandra was also correct in saying we could not travel to the city. It was too dangerous to even consider.
Still, there had to be a way to find out what was happening.
“Most likely they are being held in the quarters.”
I thought of Xandra and Gaia, as well as the Huni. For the first time, a thought occurred to me. One I had never considered before, but something that could benefit us in multiple ways.
“We could visit another tribe,” I said. “Get information that way.”
Xandra’s brows furrowed as if thinking it through, but after a moment she shook her head. “You cannot mean the Huni? We have not been on good terms with them or the Mountari for generations.”
“No, but we have an understanding with the Trelite. We have traded with them for years, have even considered them allies.” I got to my feet and turned my back on the ruins.
“Where are you going?” Xandra called after me.
“To the caves. We need to talk about this.”
I looked back long enough to confirm that she was behind me before heading down the hill.
We found most of the others in the first cave, eating the morning meal. Not everyone was gathered, but to me enough of us were present to at least start the conversation.
“We must visit the Trelite,” I said when Xandra had stopped at my side.
The other women looked up at me with expressions ranging from shock to confusion.
“We need information,” I said when no one said a word. “And they might also be willing to trade with us.”
“They will not talk to us.” Mira set her bowl down.
“She is right,” Xandra said, drawing the gazes of the other women her way. “The Trelite are a highly patriarchal tribe. Winta men viewed women as weak and in need of protection, but the Trelite men see us as inferior. I worked with two Trelite women in Sovereign City. They were not permitted to walk to the city alone, and once the men from their village picked them up, they were not even allowed to speak unless spoken to first. The Trelite are very strict when it comes to these things.”
“But you said so yourself, we need information about what is happening in the city,” I argued even though the concern shimmering in her dark eyes gave me pause. “They are our allies, and even if they feel that way about women, I feel certain that they will not turn their backs on us when we need help.”
Xandra pressed her lips together thoughtfully, but said nothing. I looked the other women over and saw the same doubt and concern shimmering in her eyes.
“It would be helpful if they could teach us a little about growing crops,” Mira pointed out after a moment. “We have plenty of meat, but it will not be enough to keep us healthy forever. We need vegetables.”
“Maybe they will trade with us,” Tris said meekly, as if she were afraid to speak up. “We have furs.”
She was looking at me, as was everyone else in the room, and it hit me, as it had more and more recently, that they were waiting for me to make the decision. It was a role the others had thrust upon me, but one I was not yet comfortable with. Still, there was no turning back, not after I had transformed them all into hunters of men, and whether or not I had planned it, this was my tribe now.
“We need their knowledge,” I said, and then turned toward Xandra as if looking for reassurance that I was making the right choice.
This was another thing that had become common, a change I had not noticed at first and one I would not have expected. Mira had always been my closest friend, and that had not changed, but there was something about Xandra’s experience and maturity that made me look to her more and more in moments like these. We had not elected a Head for our new village or even talked about it, but the feeling that I was in charge had grown with each passing day, and with Xandra always on my side, it gave me the strength I needed to fake confidence, even if I did not always have it.
“What is the worst that can happen?” I asked, still looking at her. “They may turn us away, but they are not Huni or Mountari. The Trelite are not fighters. They rarely even hunt animals, so we do not need to worry about them attacking us.”
“You are right.” The other woman ran her hand over her head, smoothing down her short hair. “There is a good chance they will not talk to us, but the most they will do is turn us away. There is very little risk in going.”
No one else argued, and I glanced around the room to find the other women nodding.
“We need to get a group together, but we also want to keep it small so we do not come across as a threat.” I said, as I studied the group in front of me. “I will take Xandra, Mira, Anja, and Emori with me. Gather your things so we can go. You must arm yourselves, but do not take a lot of weapons. Keep it simple. Unthreatening.”
13
Of the four Outlier tribes, the Trelite lived the furthest from Sovereign City. Their village was deep in the forest, close to where the wilds stopped and the wastelands began once again. Living in the caves, we were much closer to them than we had been back in our village, and it took us no more than an hour to reach.
They must have seen us coming, because before we had spotted a single sign that we were approaching our destination, a horn rang through the air as if announcing our arrival.
Behind me, Emori slowed. “Should we stop?”
“No,” I replied as I surveyed the forest in front of us, trying to figure out where the sound had come from or at least get a glimpse of the village through the trees. There was nothing, though. “They will come out to meet us.”
“How do you know?” Mira asked me.
“It is what we would have done,” I replied.
At my side, Xandra was silent, but her confident nod said she agreed with me, and so we kept walking.
A small group emerged from the trees only a few beats after the horn had sounded. There were five of them, all men, and even though they were all wielding spears, nothing about the sight of the weapons had me worried. The Trelite may have been the most peaceful of all the tribes, but even they would defend themselves against intruders if necessary. We just had to convince them that we were not a threat.
“I am Indra of the Winta people,” I said when we stopped in front of the men. “We have come to talk to the Head of the Trelite tribe.”
“Where are your men?” the man at the front of the group asked.
He was twice my age and the oldest in the group standing before us. The Trelite were the only other tribe who used passage markings similar to ours
, and it was not unusual for their people to be covered in lines by the time they died. Not just on their faces, but their arms and legs and backs as well. The more lines on a man, the higher his place in the village was, and the exposed skin of the man in front of us was nearly covered. His face was swirled with both wrinkles and passage markings, the lines dark against his tan skin, but they did not stop there. They went down his neck and covered his arms, his bare chest, and the way they curled around his shoulders told me his back was very likely covered as well. It was a good sign that they had sent someone so important to talk to us, but it also worried me. It was entirely possible he would refuse to deal with us because we were only women.
“They all died when the Fortis attacked our village,” I told him. “Only twenty-three women and children escaped.”
The man frowned, and his gaze moved past me to the other women from my tribe. “That is not good.”
None of the men behind him spoke, and their neutral expressions made it impossible for me to figure out what they were thinking. They were all younger, their skin in various shades of tan and light brown, and although they all had faces as marked as the man at the head of the group, none of the others had nearly as many lines on their arms and chests.
“I am Zaire,” the man said after a couple beats of tense silence. Then he turned to head back into the village. “You will follow me.”
The group of men parted, giving us space to follow Zaire. When all five of us had passed through, the other men trailed behind us. It made it seem like they were surrounding us, and the urge to defend not just myself, but my friends as well, swept over me. I fought against it, though, clinging to the knowledge that the Trelite were peaceful. They had done nothing threatening so far, so I told myself there was nothing to worry about.
Even so, I was thankful to have my bow.
My steps faltered when we crossed the threshold of the village. I had known the Trelite lived in the trees, but seeing the huts hanging high above our heads, accessible only by ladders, was still shocking. On the ground they had animals and dozens of gardens, all overflowing with vegetation since they ate very little meat, especially in the summer when the forest was so green with life. How they managed to grow so much when the Winta had always struggled was something we had never figured out, but a trick I was hoping to learn. Assuming we could get the Trelite men to speak with us.
Zaire led us to the middle of the village where a large fire roared, and around it, dozens of men stood, each of them holding spears just like the five who had come out to greet us. The flames from the fire crackled into the air as if trying to reach the huts hovering high above it, connected to one another by walkways. Faces of women and children were visible in a few of the windows, but all the ladders had been pulled up at our approach, giving them no way to get down and no way for us to go up.
Zaire stopped on the opposite side of the fire and motioned to the ground. “Please sit. I will speak to the Head.”
We did as requested, and even though his demeanor was still unthreatening, the gazes of some of the men standing before us were less amicable. They looked at us with suspicion, but it was not because we were from another tribe. It was because we were women.
The crowd in front of us shifted, allowing Zaire to step through, and he disappeared from sight. Leaving us alone.
At my side, Mira shifted and whispered, “They are not happy we have come.”
“We knew it would be so,” I replied, keeping my voice low.
Xandra turned her face toward me and in a low voice said, “It is an insult to them that we have come.”
“Perhaps we would have had a better chance with the Mountari,” Anja said from my other side.
“They are savage,” Emori hissed.
“They are a people who take pride in strength,” I countered, thinking Anja may have been right. Perhaps we should have gone to the Mountari.
Zaire was not gone long, and when he made his way back through the crowd, he was no longer alone. The man at his side wore a headdress made of sticks, indicating that he was the Head of the tribe, but he was much younger than Zaire. Probably only ten years older than I was. Somehow, though, his dark skin was covered in as many lines as the older man’s. So many that they would be hard pressed to find skin bare enough to add more lines.
He looked us over as he walked, the expression in his eyes a mixture of the two greetings we had already received. How he had come to be Head at such a young age was impossible to know, but it did not escape my notice that his passage markings were intertwined with raised scars. They cut across his face, arms, and bare chest, making it look as if he had led a very violent life. Something that was not normal for a member of the Trelite tribe.
He stopped in front of us, but did not indicate that we should stand, so I stayed where I was, looking up at him from the ground. If I stood, these men might take it as a sign that I saw myself as an equal, and even though that was true, I did not want to risk anything that would terminate the good relations our two tribes had always had.
“Indra of the Winta tribe, I am Cruz, Head of the Trelite tribe.”
“Cruz, thank you for agreeing to see us.” I bowed my head slightly the way I had inside the city when dealing with the Sovereign and Fortis. “We have come with the hope that the good relations between our two tribes will be extended to us now that our men are gone.”
“Zaire tells me that all your men were killed when the Fortis attacked your village.”
“They were,” I said.
“This is most disturbing news.” Cruz’s brown eyes clouded over. “It is not good for women to be alone, as I am sure your departed men would agree.”
“They would,” I said, agreeing with him while refusing to acknowledge I felt the same way.
It was true that the men in our village would have thought we were too weak to take care of ourselves, and even though we had proven that was not the case, I doubted it was something Cruz would want to hear.
He motioned for us to stand. “Come, Indra of the Winta tribe. We will discuss this by the fire.”
He had already turned by the time the five of us were on our feet, but Zaire waited. He then led us across the village and through the large group of men who were gathered to watch. Their expressions of anger had lessened, but not disappeared completely. Many probably believed we should have thrown ourselves on the burial fires of our men rather than continue without them. It was a brutal custom that happened often in the Trelite village, but one I did not like to think about.
Cruz took his place on a chair carved from a tree stump, and I lowered myself to the ground in front of him, knowing this was what was expected of me. The other women did the same, and behind us the Trelite men began to disperse. A rope ladder was thrown down and women followed, as if the Head taking a seat indicated it was okay for them to descend.
“We heard about what happened to your village,” Cruz began, “but we thought all of your people had been killed.”
“I helped some of the women and children escape into the forest,” Anja said. “And there were others who made it out of the city and hid in the Lygan Cliffs, thanks to Xandra.”
Cruz looked my sister’s way and frowned, and then focused on me once again. “We do not usually make deals with women.”
“We understand your customs, but I know you are an honorable people, and I know you would not want helpless women and children to go hungry.”
“No,” Cruz said. “We would not.”
A woman appeared at his side, holding a cup, and he took it without even glancing her way. She held one in her other hand as well, but made no move to give it to me, and she appeared uncertain about how to proceed, her large eyes seemingly magnified by the markings circling them as she looked me over.
“Give the cup to Indra of the Winta people,” the Head said in a harsh tone.
The woman bowed her head and held it out to me.
I took it, whispering a quiet, “Thank you,” as I did.
The frown on Cruz’s face deepened. “You do not need to thank her. She is a woman, and it is her duty to make sure the men in the village are comfortable, and that comfort extends to our guests.” He held his cup out. “Let us drink, and then we will discuss our terms for your survival.”
I clinked my cup against his before tilting it toward my lips, my eyes on him the whole time, looking for cues as to how I should act. He watched me, too, taking in my careful attention as if sizing me up. I made sure I started drinking only a second after he did, and that I kept the cup to my lips the entire time he had his at his mouth so I was certain I did not offend him.
The liquid was sharp and bitter, stinging my throat when I swallowed it and making my eyes water. I did not stop drinking, though, but instead continued until every last drop was gone and Cruz had finally lowered his own cup. Then I coughed. It was impossible to hold in. The liquid scorched my throat the same way the sun had burnt the wastelands centuries ago.
Cruz’s lips turned up into a smile. “Women do not usually drink spirit water, but you have done well.”
“Thank you,” I coughed out.
He held his cup out, not taking his eyes off me, and the woman appeared to take it from his hand. “What have you come to discuss with us, Indra of the Winta tribe?”
“We have come for information,” I said as I held my own cup out to the woman. I wanted to look her way, to thank her as I had when she gave me the drink, but I focused on Cruz. We needed this man to work with us. Even if I did find his attitude repulsive. “We were hoping you would be willing to trade with us. We can give you furs in exchange for vegetables and knowledge of how to grow them.”
“You plan to grow your own food?” The markings on Cruz’s face danced as his eyebrows lifted and his mouth turned up.
Heat licked at my cheeks, but I worked hard to keep my expression neutral. Fortunately, due to my years of working in the city, I had lots of practice at hiding my emotions. “We do.”
“And where will you get the fur you wish to give us?” His light brown eyes sparkled with amusement.
