The Gathering Night

by Margaret Elphinstone

  Hodei was here. He was Go-Between, but he was also my uncle, and his presence here was kind. Tonight even the far-off Stars were kind. I found myself thinking about Kemen’s secret fear. I considered the strange arrival of my uncle. I looked at these two things together in the clear light of the Stars, and I saw what I should do.

  Hodei said:

  I travelled far in the worst of winter to speak to Nekané. The news I brought was no secret, so when her family had given me food I told them all what had happened. I didn’t tell them why I’d set out at once for Mother Mountain Island. No one asked.

  When I’d eaten I looked up at the wintry stars. I said, ‘How close the stars are tonight! See how they cluster round our fire! Those Stars know what I’ve come to say to you. The spirits of the sky are joyful because one of their own has come back to them. For a little while at least, they have him back.

  ‘Nekané, you know what I’m about to say. As he lay dying I saw your Helpers watching from the smoke under the roof. I saw the Swan’s wing spread over him to protect him. A shaft of sunlight pierced through the smoke-hole. Through it I saw the curve of the Dolphin’s back through the wreathing smoke.’

  Nekané said, ‘At first I was more afraid of him than I ever was of you or Aitor. In the end I loved him well. He taught me spirit-ways. He spoke harshly but in his heart he was kind. He held nothing back. Whatever the spirits gave him, he was willing to give again.’

  ‘He gave himself,’ I said. ‘Over and over again he gave himself for the Auk People.’

  My niece knew who we were talking about. ‘Is he dead?’ A sob caught in her throat. ‘He saved my life, when he fetched Nekané to me long ago. You’re not saying he’s dead?’

  Esti whispered to her mother. I raised my voice in lament before Alaia could whisper back. ‘One of the Go-Betweens of the Auk People died with the Year that’s gone. He died when Swan Moon went into the dark. The greatest of our Go-Betweens is gone from us!’

  One by one they joined my chant. We sang for him, just as we’d sung in his own winter Camp above Gathering Loch. The Stars hovered above the bare trees. The spirit-lights heard our song. They filled the sky with white-green Rivers. They flowed from the Sunless Sky to the River of Milk. High over our heads they made a song of their own out of colours. Red spirit-fire flamed above our little People-fire on earth. The spirit-lights took our lament and filled the sky with our song. The Stars remembered him. His name was among them. They kept his name alive while it ceased to live among the Auk People.

  At last our song ended. Amets fetched a bearskin from the winter house and threw it over the sleeping children where they lay by the fire. The women piled on more logs.

  ‘Hodei,’ Amets said when he’d sat down again. ‘Nekané may know everything, but you have plain men like me to deal with in this family too. Tell us what happened! How did he die?’

  That was a question I could answer. I told them how Zigor had gone to hunt geese. He’d left before dawn, and crept out with the tide. He’d hidden in a frozen channel in the marsh and waited for the geese to come grazing as the tide drove them in. He’d lain in the frozen creek for a long while. Nothing new in that – but Zigor was an old man. Older than he thought, perhaps. When he got back to his winter Camp he was soaked to the skin, and chilled through. A Go-Between has enemies as well as Helpers. A fierce fever-spirit seized the chance to enter him while he was weak. It burned in his veins. Zigor was old but he was strong. For four days he fought that spirit. He spoke to that spirit aloud, so everyone could hear. On the second day Zorioné grew so frightened by the spirit-battle being fought inside her house that she sent her man to fetch me from my winter Camp beyond Gathering Loch. I arrived on the fourth day. I could see how Zigor’s strength was ebbing with the tide.

  I followed Zigor into the spirit-world. He was aware of me and spoke to me. I didn’t tell the family at River Mouth Camp what he’d said. I said to them, ‘I was able to travel with that great Go-Between a little way on his journey out of the world. I went with him as far as I could. I spoke his name. Then I left him and came back to this world. His soul was slowly leaving his body. His skin stretched over his skull, so thin the bones of his face seemed bare already. Harsh breaths filled the winter house. Zorioné took his hand as soon as I let go of it. She wept silently. The children sobbed aloud. As night fell, the harsh breaths stopped at last. I looked up through the smoke hole. I saw that great Go-Between’s Helpers lean down. I saw them lift his soul. I saw his soul rise up through the smoke hole and fly into the dark.’

  I was not the only one who wept for Zigor at River Mouth Camp that night. We sang many songs for him.

  The next morning my niece asked to speak to me privately. She led me up the Look-out Hill behind River Mouth Camp. As I followed her I felt the spirits of River Mouth clustering round me. I spoke to them without words. They welcomed me, although I’d never stood on Look-out Hill before. I was interested to see how Auk lands lay from this new viewpoint. Basajaun slept under Osané’s wolfskin tunic, snug against her warm back. Osané looked out over the salt flats towards Sand Island. I followed her gaze. People often find it easier to speak without looking at each other. I waited until she was ready.

  ‘Uncle, I need your advice. Maybe your help.’

  I’d failed to help Osané in the past. I thought she might hate me for that. I was happy to find she still trusted me. ‘This is about Basajaun,’ I stated.

  ‘Yes. No. I think so.’

  I waited.

  ‘I was so relieved when Kemen named Basajaun. ’Osané gazed out to sea. The wind blew her hair across her face and she brushed it away. ‘I didn’t recognise him. No one did. Kemen wasn’t there. They’d gone to hunt seals. Then he came back. He recognised Basajaun.’ Osané glanced at me sideways, then looked away. ‘I was glad because it meant my son could live. Only later . . .’

  ‘Later?’

  ‘Kemen was worrying.’ Osané brushed her hair out of her eyes again, and faced the wind. ‘I could tell. I knew it was about Basajaun. I made him tell me . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘He promised . . . I didn’t know . . . Kemen promised Zi . . . him that’s gone. When they wrote Auk on his back, he – the Go-Between that’s gone – he said to him – he said, “The names of the Lynx People will live among the Auk People. And nowhere else.”’ Osané shot another glance at me. ‘Kemen hadn’t told me that before. But that’s what he promised the Go-Between: “and nowhere else”.’

  So Osané knew already why I’d come. I hadn’t even spoken to Nekané yet. ‘Are you telling me that Kemen hasn’t kept that promise, Osané?’ I asked aloud.

  ‘I don’t know! Don’t you see, Uncle, that’s just it! How can I know? How can Kemen know? He didn’t even think of it when Zi . . . when the Go-Between spoke to him. He couldn’t! Only later . . . and then he forgot. I think he wanted to forget. But then Basajaun came, and that made him start worrying about it all over again.’

  ‘Worrying about what, Osané?’

  ‘The other cousin.’ Osané met my eyes and gave me a level look. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, Hodei. Four of them came from under the Morning Sun Sky. One cousin stayed among the Heron People. He took a woman there the very night they arrived. Seven Years have passed since then. Who knows whether Lynx names now live among the Heron People?

  ‘Kemen promised the Go-Between something he couldn’t do. That’s why he thinks the Auk spirits are angry with him. He’s afraid they’ll punish him. He’s afraid they’ll take our son away. That’s why he wanted to go back to the Heron People and find out.

  ‘I said – down there on the salt flats, I said to him – “Kemen, you’re mad. Suppose your cousin does have children with Lynx names, what are you going to do about it? Kill them? Steal them away and make them into Auks? Run away? If you did any of those cowardly things you’d make the spirits far angrier with you than they can possibly be now. The spirits know you were forced to make a promise no man could
keep. They might forgive you that. They won’t forgive you if you kill or steal from your own kin!”

  ‘Kemen said, “Of course I’m not going to kill or steal! But if I went to find my cousin, at least I’d know the truth!” “You’d know nothing at all,” I told him, “because, for all you know, hands-full and hands-full of Lynx names may be alive today, hunting in lands you’ve never even heard of. That thought should make you glad! Just because you had to make a stupid promise that no one could possibly keep, you’re hoping that all your kin are dead for ever! Can that be right? Of course not! No good spirit would love you for wishing that! It was a bad promise you made. The best thing you can do is forget all about it. Everyone else has!”

  ‘“Including all the spirits who heard me make that promise?” was all Kemen would say.

  ‘“The spirits couldn’t have meant you to keep a promise as stupid as that!” I protested.

  ‘“No, but you don’t understand! You can’t see a meaning in it, and I can’t either. But there has to be one! The Go-Between said it – he must have had a good reason, even if we can’t see it.”

  ‘He can’t forget about it, Uncle. And now I worry about it too. Are the spirits angry with us after all? Did the Go-Between that’s gone mean something important that we can’t understand? Hodei, will you help us? Please, Uncle, could you ask the spirits not to hurt Basajaun?’

  ‘Have you spoken to Nekané about this?’ I asked her.

  ‘Kemen made me promise not to.’

  ‘But you didn’t promise not to speak to me? Is that it?’

  She returned my smile, radiant as the Sun coming out from a dark cloud. ‘You can make it right, Uncle? You can make it right!’

  I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Anything I can do for you, Osané, I will do. I owe you more than you can ever ask.’

  Amets said:

  Nekané and Hodei went Go-Between that evening. I was furious. After all we’d lived through – after everything we’d done to put things right – we had to go picking over these dead bones and bring the whole thing back to life again. I’m not Go-Between, but I’ve hunted long enough to know when the spirits are happy to leave things alone. I said so. I told Hodei, ‘When Alaia’s father died he asked me to look after this family. That’s what I’ve done ever since. I welcome any guests who care to come to River Mouth Camp. But I expect them to remember they’re in my hunting lands, Go-Between or not.’

  Hodei opened his mouth to answer. I hadn’t finished. I went on telling him: ‘We’ve been through all this already. Kemen is as much Auk as I am. His kin – if any live – are Lynx People. My kin are Seal People. We both brought good blood to the Auk People. People are always the better for new blood. Young men will travel. The spirits made things that way in the Beginning. No one ever said to me, “Amets, I think you’d better go back under the Sunless Sky and just make sure all your cousins among the Seal People are dead for ever.” No one suggested to me that would be a bright idea! They wouldn’t dare! I’d have knocked their heads off if they’d even whispered such a wicked thing. If you want to bring bad spirits among us, I can’t think of a better way of doing it than punishing a man because his People have strong blood and many children. If we Auks want to rid this world of People, we might as well make short work of it and cut off our own pricks!’

  ‘Amets!’ Hodei roared at me. ‘Stop shouting! Will you listen to me for one heartbeat!’

  ‘I’ve listened enough! And I never heard—’

  ‘Amets!’ shouted Alaia. ‘Stop it! That’s not what he’s saying! Listen!’

  ‘As for you, woman—’

  ‘Amets! Amets!’

  Even that young upstart Itzal joined in the shouting. He and Kemen and Alaia were all holding me back. ‘Amets! Listen to the Go-Between! Amets! That’s not what he’s saying!’

  In the end it was Alazne’s sobs that brought me back to my senses. I turned my back on them all and picked her up. ‘It’s all right, little daughter! Don’t cry! I’m not angry now – at least, not with you.’

  Kemen said, ‘Amets – brother – no one could be more loyal to me than you. I know it. But listen, please. I want Hodei and Nekané to speak to the spirits. I want my mind set at rest. Please, listen to what Hodei’s saying to us. He’s on our side. The spirits are on our side! Please, listen to what he says!’

  I let Hodei tell his story again. I glowered at the fire while he spoke. I didn’t look as if I was listening. I was, of course. I heard everything he said.

  ‘I didn’t tell you this last night, but I came here to speak to Nekané about this very thing,’ said Hodei. ‘The spirits told me at Gathering Camp that the child in Osané’s belly was a stranger. The Go-Between who’s left us knew it too. We weren’t worried. That other Go-Between reminded me how the spirits promised Kemen that Lynx names would live among the Auk People. We agreed that a Lynx stranger would be as welcome among us as – as our little Esti here. ’Hodei smiled at my elder daughter. ‘Don’t look so frightened, Esti! You came to us as a stranger. Your father recognised you. Now your name lives among us.’

  Esti spoke up. She wasn’t scared of a Go-Between! ‘It lives among the Seal People too! Dada says so! Esti belonged to his family where he was born among the Seal People. She was the mother of his mother. And now she’s me!’

  ‘And you are Auk,’ agreed Hodei. ‘And so our lives roll on, caught between the Beginning and the End.

  ‘I went to my winter Camp,’ Hodei went on. ‘I was happy. I thought that the rightness of things had been restored at Gathering Camp. The Animals gave themselves. The winter was kind. Then the message came from Zorioné that my fellow Go-Between lay dying, and wished to see me.

  ‘As I hurried towards the High Sun Sky the spirits spoke to me. They recognised my sorrow, but they showed me how that Go-Between’s task was done. Through him, more than any other, the rightness of things had been restored. Why should he linger in an ageing body, when all he’d worked for was fulfilled? I wept as I walked, but I felt no anxiety.

  ‘Only when I knelt at his side did I realise that anything was still wrong. When Osané spoke to me yesterday I already knew what she was going to say. I’d heard it already, from the mouth of a dying man troubled in his mind. He reminded me of Kemen’s promise: “Lynx names shall live among the Auk People. And nowhere else!”’

  ‘“I thought I was clever,” the dying man whispered. “That made me blind. The spirit who told me to say those words was cleverer than I was.” He struggled to catch his breath. He tweaked my sleeve with restless fingers. “Hodei!”

  ‘“I’m here,” I said.

  ‘“There’s no such thing as a bad spirit. No such thing . . . Hodei!”

  ‘“I’m here.”

  ‘“You have to make them change sides . . . Hodei!”

  ‘“I’m here.”

  ‘He gripped my hand. I waited while he found the strength to speak. “Hodei, you must . . . I made a mistake.”’

  Hodei looked round at us all. Our faces shone in the firelight. I’d forgotten to look as if I wasn’t listening. Hodei’s next words echoed my thought:

  ‘You see what a great man he was, the Go-Between who’s left us. Those were the last words he spoke in this life: “I made a mistake.” Only the greatest of men can bring themselves to say that.’

  For a while we all thought our own thoughts. Then I said, ‘I agree with that. But as I said before, I’m just a hunter. I’m not Go-Between. What was this mistake? Was it a mistake to force a promise from Kemen that he couldn’t possibly keep? Is that what the Go-Between meant?’

  Hodei looked me in the eyes. This was my hearth, not his. The Go-Between’s gaze pierced me though. I think he searched my soul and saw everything inside it. But this was my hearth, not his. I stared him out.

  ‘Amets,’ Hodei said to me at last. ‘You hide nothing, and you want nothing hidden. If you were Go-Between, you’d find it much harder than you realise to drag everything into the daylight. How should I understand, a
ny better than you, the words of a dying man?’

  ‘Because you’re Go-Between,’ I growled. ‘We feed you enough!’

  ‘Amets!’ I ignored Alaia’s shocked whisper, just as I ignored Nekané’s mocking laugh.

  Hodei took no notice of the women either. This was between him and me. ‘Amets,’ he said. ‘You want me to say, “The Go-Between made a mistake when he made Kemen promise ‘and nowhere else’.” You want there to be no doubt about it. Well, I’d like that too! But how can I say it? For all I know, the mistake was to let Kemen become Auk. For all I know, the mistake was to let any Lynx man live at all!’

  I leaped to my feet. I wasn’t the only one. Everyone was shouting at once. Only Kemen and Nekané sat where they were and didn’t say a word.

  ‘Stop it!’ shouted Alaia. ‘Stop it, all of you! You’re terrifying the children. You two – you call yourselves men, I suppose! Then stop frightening us! You’re supposed to look after us, not scare us to death!’

  What could I say to a guest when my woman had spoken to him like that? I had to laugh. I shook Hodei’s hand up and down and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Hodei, what kind of Camp have you come to? We let our women have the last word here, as you can see. You thought we were hunters, until you saw this! Well, perhaps we all make mistakes sometimes.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Hodei’s cold gaze went through me like a spear. He searched my soul. I let him. Deep down I was still chuckling when I thought of our unruly women. As Hodei said himself, I had nothing to hide. At last Hodei spoke: ‘Amets, this is your hearth. We two Go-Betweens wish to speak to the spirits, here and now. The spirits will answer your questions better than I can. Then we can put the matter to rest for ever. I want that – we all want that – as much as you do. Will you let Nekané and I speak to the spirits from this hearth?’