‘Forget what your man keeps telling you to think, Arantxa. How much do you really want to hurt Kemen?’
Arantxa said very quietly, ‘I want my daughter back.’
‘And who’s stopping you having her back? Who is it who makes it impossible for her to see you, let alone stay with you? Is it Kemen?’
Arantxa said even more quietly, as if the words were being dragged out of her heart by a stubborn spirit, ‘If Osané is truly happy . . .’
‘Osané is happier than she’s ever been before.’
‘ . . . then I wouldn’t take Kemen from her.’
‘For that kindness, Arantxa, one day the spirits may be kind to you.’
‘You mean—’
‘What I say. So finish telling me, Arantxa. Basajaun and his cousin have stayed in your Camp for almost a whole Moon, and they still believe that everyone here, including your husband, is their friend?’
‘My husband most of all. Once he understood that the point of this lie was to get back at Kemen, he gave himself over to it more than anyone. He takes Basajaun and his cousin hunting with him. He treats them far better than he’s ever treated his own sons. I told you, though, Itzal and Koldo won’t have anything to do with it. I don’t know what they think. They’re angry with everyone, and certainly they won’t talk to me. It’s all been very difficult, Nekané.’ Arantxa’s face began to work again. ‘Worse than you could possibly guess. With my man threatening me, and the rest of my family all furious with me – why me? – for dragging them into this, and the boys hardly speaking to me, and Hodei urging us on . . . Oh, Nekané, I hate it all so much!’
Hodei said:
I paddled Nekané across the loch to Sand Island so we could speak privately. Between scudding clouds the Sun threw showers of light across the sea. The wind from the Evening Sun Sky whipped against the tide, slicing the tops off the swell. Balanced between wind and tide, I paddled a straight course. Nekané sat behind me clinging to the boat-lip as each wave slapped our side, drenching us with spray. I paddled into the calm of a crescent bay and beached on the sand. Nekané climbed ashore and shook out her wet cloak. I carried my boat to the top of the beach and laid it in a hollow among the dunes.
We stayed on the beach where we could walk side by side. Flocks of turnstones flew up in front of us, skimmed over the sea and settled back to feeding as soon as we’d passed. Now we were out of the wind, the warm smells of land – pine, myrtle, bracken and seeding grass – greeted us. We turned at the end of the beach and strolled back again. Soon there were many sets of footprints in the white sand, lapped by the retreating waves – from my own bare feet and Nekané’s sealskin travelling boots. Each row was a little lower than the one before, following the ebbing tide.
Nekané’s a woman; I couldn’t tell her everything my Helpers had shown me about the Hunt. But she’s Go-Between too: I had to work with her. I wished Zigor had come. But Zigor had merely told Nekané that Basajaun and his cousin were at Loch Island Camp. You could say he sent her, except Nekané was no longer learning from him. She chose for herself. When I’d sent my message I’d hoped for Zigor, but I got Nekané. Aitor was at his family’s summer Camp on Bloodstone Island. We wouldn’t see him before Gathering Camp.
I had no choice but to work with Nekané. I had to talk to her before Basajaun and his cousin got back from Hunting Camp.
‘The rightness of things has been upset,’ I said to her. ‘For four Years our winters have been getting worse. Meat is scarce. The spirits are unhappy. You know this, Nekané.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know.’
‘I keep asking my Helpers what the Auk People have done. Have we hunted too much? Have we taken more Animals than were ready to give themselves? Have we taken the wrong Animals? Have we failed to sing the Animals the right songs?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ve asked my Helpers about these things too.’
‘You asked your Helpers about the Hunt?’
‘Only as much as a woman dares to do,’ she replied cunningly. I let it be; we’d had this talk too often, and it always ended in the same place. Instead I went on, ‘Have you learned, Nekané, what the Auk People have done to upset the rightness of things?’
‘Yes.’
I didn’t expect that. Rather than let her see my surprise, I waited for her to go on.
‘Do you want me to tell you?’
‘Of course I do, woman! If you know what’s causing all this, why haven’t you said so before?’
‘Because . . . I don’t know if you’ll follow this, Hodei – you’re always so certain about what you know, and what to do about it. You don’t look at things the way a woman does – of course not – but too often it’s the ones who’ve done no wrong who get most hurt.’
‘Explain yourself!’
‘Osané is your sister’s daughter.’
‘What of it?’
‘Did you know that through all the Moons she was with us, until her son was born she never spoke a single word? Not to us – not to her husband – not to a soul. When Bakar was born she spoke to him. Kemen heard her. He was kind – Kemen is a good man, Hodei – and that gave Osané the courage to speak to us.’
‘No, I didn’t know this.’ I frowned. ‘What has Osané’s silence to do with breaking the rightness of things?’
‘Everything. Ask yourself, Hodei: what was the story Osané couldn’t tell? I’m sure Zigor knew, but he couldn’t say anything either. What would happen to Osané if People knew what she was hiding? What would happen to her mother and brothers if her story were told? They hadn’t done anything to hurt anyone. Nor had Osané! Hodei, you saw how someone nearly strangled that girl. That man came close to murder. Have you forgotten to ask yourself, in these four Years, who that man could be? Aitor told the People he’d be found, but we’ve heard nothing more about it. Why did Osané never accuse anyone? At first she was hurt so badly it was too painful for her to speak. She took that as a sign. She talks to us now, but we don’t ask questions. Perhaps it will always be too painful for her to speak.
’ Nekané could hardly have been more direct. Arantxa is my sister. Her man was in my family. Nekané was our guest at Loch Island Camp. Even a Go-Between can’t accuse a man of a wrong as great as that – a wrong that would cause him to be cast out for ever – if she’s not seen it for herself. If her Helpers show it to her – of course that’s a different matter. From the way Nekané spoke I realised that her Helpers hadn’t told her about this. It was something she just knew somehow, in the way that women do. There are many ways of knowing: wherever Nekané had got her story, I had to listen to it.
‘If what you say turns out to be true, it would be a wrong great enough to make all the spirits angry with us,’ I said slowly. ‘But you must know, Nekané, this isn’t the path where the spirits have been guiding me.’
‘I know.’ I heard her take a breath. ‘Hodei, in return I must say: you think angry spirits came here with these Lynx People. You think the angry spirits that brought the sea down on the Lynx People aren’t yet satisfied. You think the Lynx People, not us, must have upset the rightness of things. But that’s not the path where the spirits have been guiding me.’
‘I can see that. But I have a story to tell too. Perhaps you should hear what Edur said to me.’
‘Tell me!’
As I talked I watched Nekané to see what she made of my story. ‘Two days after Edur brought Basajaun to Loch Island Camp he and I went fishing. I paddled out into the loch so no one could hear what we said. Edur told me how Basajaun and his cousin had walked into his family’s Camp one evening carrying bear meat. “I could have killed him at once!” Edur said to me. “I knew where that bear slept! Of course I knew! A man could walk to that bear’s lair between dawn and mid-morning from our Camp! I’d spoken with that Bear in Swan Moon!”
‘“Keep still!” I said to him, “or you’ll swamp us. Try to look as if you’re quietly fishing. Now, go on!”
‘“That Bear spoke to me in Swan M
oon. I stood outside her lair. I saw how she’d pulled the brushwood across to shelter herself. I asked her to give herself to me. I spoke aloud so the spirits could hear me. The spirits all heard that sleeping Bear agree to give herself to me!” Edur’s fist crashed down on the lip of my boat.
‘The boat rocked under the blow. I grabbed my fishing line. “My boat asks you not to beat it so hard,” I said quietly. “My boat wants to remind you that it’s done nothing to make you angry.”
‘“That Bear was pregnant when she went to sleep.” Edur spoke as calmly as he could. “I was waiting for the cubs. I wanted their furs. That Bear had promised to give herself – and her cubs as well – to me, when meat got short in Thaw Moon. What kind of hunter is Basajaun, to think I wouldn’t know about a sleeping bear so close to my Camp? No wonder his family died, if he really thought a man wouldn’t have a bear like that in his mind for the winter! He even handed the fur to my mother, as if he were giving a gift to her! It was a rare pelt – almost black along the back – the shoulder fur this thick! I was so angry! But as soon as I laid eyes on her body, that Bear spoke to me. She told me she’d always meant to give herself to me! She’d wanted me to hang her skull on my Tree! I asked that Bear if I should kill Basajaun then and there! No man would have thought it wrong if I had!”
‘“So what did that Bear say to you?” I asked him.
‘“Ah!” Edur thought himself cunning, but I’d seen his whole plan more clearly than he did before he even spoke. He’d done well, though. I didn’t know he had it in him to think so fast. “This man – this stranger who killed a bear in my hunting land – this fool – he isn’t the first one to wrong me! That Bear reminded me: his brother took my woman! The skull of that Bear said, ‘Surely you’ve not forgotten that?’ She said to me, ‘Remember Osané, Edur! If you still want her, you can have her back!’”
‘“Was Osané your woman, Edur? Had you taken her?”
‘“As good as,” he growled, not looking at me. “I want Osané back, Hodei! She was mine first!”
‘“She has Kemen’s child.”
‘“I don’t care about that! It would be better anyway if all that blood were wiped out. Or else these Lynx spirits will be among us for ever. Listen, Hodei, when that Bear gave me my plan – she gave it me in a single heartbeat, while Basajaun still stood at my hearth showing us her hide – the hide from that bear which was ready to give itself to me—”
‘“When that Bear gave you your plan . . .”
‘“She gave me my plan because I was thinking of our People. I was thinking of the bad spirits that came here with these Lynx People, and how these spirits have been preying on us. I was thinking that it wasn’t enough just to kill Basajaun. It would be better if we wiped out these Lynx spirits from our lives all at once, for ever! That Bear showed me my chance. I would pretend to be friendly. I’d even pretend I was pleased to have the bear meat – in spite of those furs I’d lost! If I could make Kemen’s brother think he was among friends, I could get him here to Osané’s family – I could bring him to you, Hodei. If we could get these Lynx People to Gathering Camp we could confront them with all the wrongs they’ve done to us. With everyone to help us we could get rid of them. We could banish these bad spirits for ever and the hunting would be good again.”
‘“Do you care so much about the rightness of things, Edur?” I asked him. “Or is it just that one brother took your woman, and the other took your bear?”
‘“I care most of all for the rightness of things.” It was a lie: his words spoke my thoughts, not his. “Hodei,” he urged me. “This stranger killed a sleeping bear on my hunting ground. Any man among us would have killed him for that! I’ve brought you this chance. These Lynx brothers have wronged us too much. We can accuse them at Gathering Camp. We can get rid of these spirits that are troubling us, for ever!”
‘So you see, Nekané,’ I finished, ‘Edur’s plan is to get rid of Kemen and Basajaun together. I don’t admire his reasons. But if these Lynx brothers have broken the rightness of things among the Auk People, then we must get rid of them. See how the spirits used Edur to bring Basajaun here! I say the spirits are showing us very clearly what we need to do. All this trouble started when Kemen came. This is why Edur’s plan may be good. The People here don’t like what’s happening, but we must go on. We must get Kemen and Basajaun to Gathering Camp, and there we can get to the root of the matter.’
‘And cut the root out when we find it?’ Nekané asked. ‘That’s what you hope for, isn’t it?’
‘Of course. Why d’you think Zigor made Kemen swear that Lynx names would live among the Auk People, and nowhere else?’
‘He said that?’ Nekané was frowning.
‘Zigor sees far,’ I told her. ‘What if Lynx names live among all the Peoples: Auk, Heron, Seal, Otter . . . ? Nekané, if I meet a man who shares my name, that man is my brother. The same spirits watch over us both, even though our Peoples may be different.’
‘What of it?’ asked Nekané. She was still frowning. ‘It happens, and no harm comes of it.’
‘Because all our Peoples are kin! Because in the Beginning two sisters came from Grandmother Mountain . . . you know that story as well as I do. But Lynx . . . who are they? Men who share Lynx names will be brothers. Their kinship will cut across all the careful threads that link our Peoples. They’ll be strangers in our midst, belonging first of all to one another . . . I tell you, Nekané, Zigor sees far!’
Nekané stopped walking, and turned to face me. ‘Hodei, you’re taking this too far! It’s true our troubles started when Kemen came to Gathering Camp. It’s just as true our troubles started when someone nearly murdered Osané. Both these things happened together, after my son was lost. I’ve not forgotten that Bakar’s disappearance was the real beginning, if only we could see far enough. But for now we have two different stories, and we can’t yet see how they join together. We have to choose between them. I think we must do it, not by looking at the outside things, but by looking inside the souls concerned.’
I was furious, I admit. Was this woman teaching me to Go-Between? But then . . . perhaps I had listened too much to Edur, who can only think about the outside things. I turned away from her and stared out to sea. The tide swept past the island, heading for open water. The wind fought against it, slicing at each wave as it scurried onward. Clouds chased one another towards the distant hills, darkening the sky above our heads with their passing. Nekané and I would have to stay on Sand Island until slack water. By then the Sun would be dipping towards the Evening Sun Sky. That was how I’d planned it: I didn’t want interruptions. We had fire, and there was plenty of food here. It would be foolish to waste this day – our one chance – on useless anger. I turned back to her and said as calmly as I could, ‘Very well. These men will soon come back from Hunting Camp: the two from the Lynx People, and Osané’s father. We now have two Go-Betweens here at Loch Island Camp. Why wait any longer?’
‘Why indeed?’
Perhaps this was what she’d planned to make me do all along. It didn’t matter. I said, ‘You think one thing and I think another. But to ask “who did what?” is just to think of small matters. We’re not Go-Between for small matters. We’re here to speak to the spirits. If something has happened to upset the rightness of things for the Auk People, then we’re here to put that right. We’re not concerned with anything less.’
‘I agree that we’re here to speak to the spirits and make sure of the rightness of things. But I think the way to do that is to be concerned about everything less.’
‘Perhaps it’s the same thing,’ I told her. ‘Anyway, if we’re to speak to the spirits, Nekané, we must stop arguing. We have today – and only today – to get everything ready.’
Nekané said:
The children were playing Blind Man’s Buff when Hodei and I came back to Loch Island Camp. Argi was Blind Man. He groped his way towards us, arms stretched wide and ran straight into me. He seized me by my cloak.
‘Guess who! Guess who! Guess who!’
Argi could tell by the shrieks of laughter that this was no ordinary catch. He ran his hands over my cloak.
‘Guess who! Guess who! Guess who!’ Everyone started to join in. The women were holding on to each other, wiping the tears from their eyes, they were laughing so much. Even Osané’s brothers took up the chant. ‘Guess who, Argi! Guess who!’
Argi’s small hands clutched my necklace. He felt the oyster shells and the wolf claws between each one – the very claws that Kemen had given me, though no one here knew that. He screamed in triumph. ‘It’s her! It’s her! I’ve caught the Go-Between!’ He ripped the leather bandage from his eyes and gave me a gappy grin – Argi had no front teeth that summer – ‘I caught the Go-Between,’ he sang. ‘I caught the Go-Between!’
The other children took up the song: ‘Argi caught the Go-Between! Argi caught the Go-Between!’
They were still singing while everyone moved up to give the best places at the hearth to Hodei and me, and thrust full plates of mussels, scallops, crab meat and blueberries into our hands. ‘Eat, eat! We’ve all had plenty. This is for you!’
It was hard to believe anything could be wrong. The afternoon Sun shone through the leaves and brought out the gold inside the green. A breeze trickled through the branches, making each tree sing its own song: hazel, alder, birch, aspen and one little oak. Dappled shadows drifted across the Camp. As the day wore on they touched us where we sat. The air above our heads was full of butterflies, blue and brown. Every now and then the children broke out into Argi’s song. They’d gone to play on the shore, but we could still hear their laughter. The rest of the People lolled in the shade; no one was doing any more work that day. I realised why they all seemed so much happier: it was because I’d talked to Arantxa. They were good People. They wanted things put right. Yesterday I’d felt like a stranger among them. Now I felt welcome: an old woman sitting among my kin.
The Gathering Night Page 23
