The Promised One

by Meredith

  Neither of the chiefs spoke.

  Su-Li said, It seems your rules of etiquette don’t cover accepting an introduction to a spirit creature.

  She looked into the bird’s face for an ironic smile, but it was unreadable, as always.

  “Additionally,” Kanu said—council speech was always formal—“we have a proposal to present to you.”

  “Our Medicine Chief offers us a plan?” Inaj’s eyes flashed from Sunoya to Su-Li, showing what he meant: “Our Medicine Chief, who is a mere advisor, not a real chief, plus a young woman who is not even married, and her bird—and you dare to instruct us?”

  Sunoya leapt straight in. “Chiefs, I know I have no standing here. I come only to bear the physical body of an Immortal, and to give us all a chance to hear his wisdom.”

  “Wisdom he will impart to you alone,” said the Red Chief.

  Now Yano, the White Chief, spoke. “Let’s hear them, Inaj.”

  Sunoya thought maybe Yano was frustrated. He’s been second in command for nearly ten winters, and maybe he suspects we could change that. Which was exactly what she wanted to do.

  She plunged in. “I have seen things.” This was the crucial part. This was what they had to believe. “I saw—foresaw—great troubles for the people. It would grieve me even to speak the words that tell those troubles. That’s why I went again to the Land beyond the Sky Arch.”

  She took a deep breath and let a long breath out. “Since Su-Li and I came back to Turtle Island, he and I have talked about the troubles.” She paused. “You remember that Buzzard has the gift of prophecy.”

  She studied the faces of the two men who held the power. Fortunately, they weren’t the only voters. “Kanu and I talked things over, and we have made a decision.”

  She heard Inaj sniff. He preferred women and Medicine Chiefs who stayed in their subordinate places.

  “At the dance for Grandmother Sun”—which meant the ceremony for the Galayi people that took place on the shortest days of the year—“we will meet with the other Medicine Chiefs and ask them to come to all the White Chiefs and all the Red Chiefs with a suggestion.”

  ‘Suggestion,’ said Su-Li. Your Red Chief doesn’t look eased by that word.

  “Our people have been at war with the Lena tribe and the Thano tribe for nearly ten winters.” The enemies on the coast to the east and the ones on the prairies west of the mountains. “Blood smears the grass of our land, and theirs. Every year the creeks run darker with crimson.”

  She made herself ready. “Three of our four villages are now governed by war chiefs.” The fourth village was a sanctuary, a peace village that never entered fighting. “Su-Li and I believe that bloodletting is leading us toward something terrible.”

  She could see that Inaj was now having difficulty observing Galayi custom, waiting until the other person was truly finished speaking. This was her one opportunity.

  “We are going to suggest that we go to the Lena and Thano people—the Medicine Chiefs only—and make a treaty of peace with them.”

  Inaj could wait no longer. “You are too young to understand. Tribes are not weakened by war—they are strengthened. Men are forged in the fires of battle.” He rushed on, caring nothing about his rudeness. “For several years now the band has grown stronger through tests of blood, the only way boys can become warriors. It is the hope of the White Chief and me that our strength will soon be so great that our enemies will be afraid and let us alone.”

  Everyone around the fire breathed, waited, breathed.

  Sunoya now went beyond the words she and Su-Li had planned out. “I have a question. How long do you think we’ll stay at war?”

  Something feral flickered in Inaj’s eyes.

  It was an unfair question. Since the Red Chief governed during times of war, she was really asking, “How long do you plan to be governor? When do you plan to turn leadership back over to the White Chief?”

  She told Su-Li, Give him your I-can-see-right-through-you look.

  Inaj stood up, abruptly signaling that the meeting was over.

  “You have the wisdom of experience,” she said anyway, “and of a War Chief.” She let that sink in. “Kanu and I have the knowledge of Medicine Chiefs, and the guidance of an Immortal. At Grandmother Sun’s Dance we will approach the other Medicine Chiefs with our proposal.”

  Stare him down, Sunoya told Su-Li.

  Inaj didn’t flinch. His face was full of rage, not just at her but at Kanu for his part in the scheme. He was breathing like an enraged buffalo bull. Except for the decorum required by the council, she thought he would have erupted.

  “My advice to such a young woman, such a beautiful woman,” Inaj said, “is to leave the responsibilities of governing to those who are trained for them, and elected to them.”

  Then he changed to a gentler tone. “Tomorrow is the first day of the Hunting Moon, so my men and I leave on our hunt.” Every autumn they took enough meat—deer, elk, buffalo—to get the band through the winter. “We’ll leave behind enough warriors to defend the village. Then we will take all the villagers to Grandmother Sun’s ceremony. This is the work of men.”

  Sunoya inclined her head to him. In her opinion Inaj used the hunt mainly as a training ground for war. He reveled in war. He was like a boy killing bugs with gleeful cries. He undid the spiritual work of the Medicine Chief.

  Inaj turned his back on everyone and walked out.

  In her mind Sunoya asked her spirit guide, What’s in his heart right now?

  Lust, said Su-Li.

  She squelched her fear. If any young woman stood up to Inaj, he wanted to mount and tame her. Sunoya couldn’t run that risk.

  The White Chief took his leave politely. She hoped he would wish her well in her mission, but he didn’t.

  Outside, Sunoya said aloud, “Su-Li, am I beautiful?” Hearing that from Inaj had felt strange.

  No, said her spirit guide. To their way of thinking your face is diamond-shaped when it should be round, and your eyes are too dark.

  Sunoya walked along, picturing her face as it looked in a still pool.

  But you’re sexy—men are attracted to you.

  “How do you know?”

  The way they look at you when they think you don’t notice. The way they breathe when they stand next to you.

  Sunoya considered this. She liked it.

  Don’t be a fool, said Su-Li. Better if you were an ugly hag.

  Her neck stiffened.

  Let me assure you. They remember the old stories about spirit guides. I’ve listened to them. They recall what will happen if any man knows you carnally. Never forget. Inaj would gladly rape you.

  She thought of her death, and then looked into Su-Li’s eyes. She hid her thoughts from him. Would you be glad to leave?

  7

  During this Hunting Moon, with no Inaj to battle, Sunoya used her time to get to know her spirit guide better and learn remedies for ailments from Iwa, Inaj’s wife. Since Sunoya was not to be Medicine Chief, she could do something else to help the people. She told Su-Li, “I have no family of my own. I want to feel useful.”

  You are a good person.

  Her time with Iwa brought her a special and unexpected gift. Noney, Iwa’s elder daughter and Sunoya’s cousin, started coming over to talk. The two of them sat in the sun on a log on the south side of Kanu’s house, doing small tasks like punching awl holes in deer hide or grinding seeds. What Noney wanted was a confidante. She had a child in her belly and no husband. At last year’s Planting Moon Ceremony, she had gotten together with a young man, Tensa, the son of the Red Chief of the Soco band.

  Her stories about Tensa were what any young girl’s would be.

  “Does Tensa know you’re carrying his baby?”

  Noney shook her head no. Sunoya put her arms around the girl. Though she was only five years older than Noney, Sunoya felt like her mother. And pregnancy without a husband was common enough. You got pregnant, everyone knew, by embracing a man for hours and exchan
ging your breath with his. Young people were going to do that, and usually they got married. The custom was to marry someone of another band, and you ended up with family in every village.

  The difficulty was that Inaj resented the Socos. The big council had chosen their Chief Ninyu over Inaj as the head of all Red Chiefs.

  “Father will never let me marry Tensa,” Noney wailed. She shook with sobs now.

  She was right about that. Marriage would have invited a Soco to father his grandchildren, even to move into Inaj’s own house.

  “I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds out I’m…”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  Noney’s mother certainly knew—every woman in the village did, despite the shapeless deer hide dress she wore every day. Sunoya chuckled to herself. He can track a deer, and even tell by the pee whether it’s a buck or a doe, but he doesn’t notice his own daughter.

  “I’m scared of him.”

  “You should be.” Everyone in the village had heard Inaj raging at his wife, and how she wailed when he beat her.

  “There’s something else…”

  Tears spilled out with the stories. Noney was having terrible dreams about the infant within her. When the child came forth, lightning burst out of her, killing mother or child. Ahsginah, the Evil One, rose out of the smoke.

  These dreams gave Sunoya a shiver, but she said nothing.

  Su-Li said, Take care of the child.

  Sunoya asked him what he meant, but he said nothing more, and Sunoya gave her attention back to Noney. As soon as her cousin went home for supper, Sunoya asked, “Why is this child so important?”

  I’m can’t tell you the future. Only what is important for you to do in the present.

  “You’re a nuisance sometimes.”

  She had the impression that he would have chuckled if he could.

  Soon Noney was spending every afternoon with Sunoya, sitting in the sun and doing a little sewing or other domestic chores. Mostly they didn’t talk, because they had no need. Sunoya wondered what story was being written in her belly.

  Two young women squatted in front of Sunoya, sisters, one sweet-faced, Pica, one blocky of body, Toka. Though they’d known Sunoya half their lives, they were a little uneasy about looking into the red-gold eye of that buzzard, who seldom left Sunoya’s shoulder. Toka was in the style of a woman eligible for courting. Her black hair was brushed to a high gloss and pulled up into rolls the thickness of three fingers. On a thong around her neck she wore a disc of mother-of-pearl, a very dressy accessory, and expensive. She was round and chatty as an autumn squirrel.

  Pica wore the plain hairstyle of a married woman, straight and chopped off at the shoulders. She was long-faced and had cause enough to come to Sunoya. She’d been married for two years and was childless.

  Sunoya showed her how to begin. She cut a hank of hair longer than a finger from Pica’s hair. Then, carefully, she trimmed a tobacco leaf into slender strands of the same length. She gathered hair and tobacco into finger-thick bunches, three each, and braided them together. “Now,” she said, “cut a hank of your husband’s hair the same size. Braid it into each of these. You’ll end up with a circle of his hair, your hair, and tobacco, about the size of two cupped hands. When you’re done, bring it to me and I’ll show you the rest.” It was a charm every medicine person knew.

  “Hai! Hai! Hai! Hai!” Shouts coursed and echoed from the upriver end of the village. People thronged in that direction, and Sunoya recognized Inaj’s bull voice proclaiming a triumphant return—“Hai! Hai! Hai! Hai!” He and his cadre of warriors were back from the fall hunt, apparently bringing lots of meat, for they wore their rawhide discs outside their shirts, the red sides showing victory.

  Though only men wore the discs, and only on hunting or fighting expeditions, Sunoya had quietly made one for herself. She wore it all the time, hidden in her bosom, and with the red or blue side out, according to how she felt, a confession of her emotions. Even having Su-Li didn’t always lift her up. Sometimes she suspected she was destined to rise high, then fall low. The curse.

  The men’s families crowded around them, children shouting for the attention of their fathers and women making the trilling noise that praised the deeds of heroes. Tonight these families would put away their cornbread and seed cakes and feast on meat.

  Inaj strode past Sunoya’s small hut without acknowledging her. Kanu came out of his own hut and hailed the Red Chief as he went by, Medicine Chief to War Chief.

  Sunoya’s guests grinned at each other. “I think he’ll figure a certain something out pretty fast now,” Toka said. A lot of women were tickled at the prospect of the proud chief being shamed by his daughter.

  He walked with the cockiness of a herd bull. A dozen warriors, young men who wanted to become the lead bull, trailed after him, carrying hide bags of dried meat. Aside from getting food for their families, they’d probably spent the Moon boasting about the bloody deeds they would rain on the heads of their enemies when spring arrived.

  “Do you think there’ll be trouble?” asked Pica.

  “Let’s hope for the best,” Sunoya said. She told Su-Li, I can smell the trouble already.

  Me, too.

  Inaj’s wife Iwa embraced him and then lavished her attentions on their two sons, carrying the family’s winter meat. Inaj’s small daughter Igalu clung to her father’s hand. Her name meant “red leaf.”

  “Noney hasn’t come out of the house,” Sunoya said to Pica and Toka. “She’s hoping the shadows inside will help hide her condition.”

  With only the small hole for light, a Tusca village house was shadowy on the brightest day.

  She raised a quizzical eyebrow at Su-Li. Sometimes the buzzard at least hinted at the future. He said, Times like this make me sorry to live among you human beings.

  Pica looked at Sunoya peculiarly. She couldn’t figure out quite what was going on with this young medicine woman, and besides, she had what she came for. “Let’s go find Mom,” she said to Toka, and off they trotted.

  Iwa scurried across the village circle with a big sack and handed it to Sunoya with a merry smile. Since Sunoya had no father or husband to provide for her, it was Inaj’s duty to give her some meat. Iwa skipped and pranced back toward her husband, young and silly enough to be eager to see him.

  Kanu walked up. “She likes him in the blankets, I guess,” said Sunoya.

  “A lot of village women like him in the blankets,” said Kanu, “or in the bushes.” It was a compliment.

  “Let’s eat,” Sunoya said. The pack dog Kanu gave her, Dak, was sniffing at the meat bag. Sunoya stooped low and ducked into her house, Su-Li on her shoulder. He didn’t like to hop around on the ground, partly because he hated the earth compared to the sky, and partly because he never quite trusted any dog.

  That night the Red Chief gorged himself on hot food and hot flesh. Then, even satiated, Inaj awoke at first light as usual. He watched from his hide blankets as Noney got up and went out, carrying the pot she would use to get water. Through the shadows, Inaj studied her carefully. He took a moment to sort through his mental pictures of his daughter for the past day, especially the clumsy way she walked. As Iwa started to get up, he grabbed her by the hand. Finally he said, “What’s going on with Noney?”

  No answer.

  Now he demanded, “Is she carrying a baby?”

  Iwa still didn’t answer.

  Inaj slapped Iwa so hard she tumbled sideways onto Igalu. Startled awake, the child bawled out.

  Inaj towered over his wife. “Iwa, is Noney pregnant?”

  Iwa hesitated.

  Enraged, Inaj shoved her with both hands. As she fell backward, one bare foot landed on the warm stones encircling the center fire and the other jammed straight into the coals. She screamed, jumped, and collapsed to the ground.

  At that moment Noney slipped back into the hut. Inaj whirled and fixed her with a withering look. A little water sloshed out of her clay pot. Inaj stepped forward and pu
t a hand on her belly. He felt her roundness and the tight stretch of her skin. He glared at her and said in a low growl, “Who’s the father?”

  She looked daggers at him, walked past, stooped, and checked Iwa’s burned foot. She poured some water on it and said, “Let’s go get some ice from the river.”

  Inaj grabbed Noney’s arm and jerked her up. The water pot dropped and smashed. The rest of the water soaked Noney’s legs and moccasins. It splashed Igalu in the face, and the child cried louder.

  Inaj barked, “Who is the father?”

  She shoved his hand off her arm and glared.

  Inaj could see fear in Noney’s eyes. He loved weakness. “You’ll tell me,” he said, “or I’ll beat it out of you.”

  He raised his arm, but Iwa spoke up in a quaver. “It’s Tensa.”

  “Mother!” snapped Noney. She never kowtowed to her father.

  “Tensa?!” shouted Inaj.

  He cocked his arm high. Iwa grabbed it and held on.

  “Yes, it’s Tensa,” said Noney, her voice hard as a spear tip. “I love him.”

  His face changed from amazement to rage. “You slut!” he shouted. “You bitch! That bastard Soco boy—he won’t be the father of any of my grandchildren.”

  Abruptly, he launched himself at Noney, but Iwa grabbed one of his legs and threw him off balance. In horror she watched him topple toward the fire face down. At the last instant he rammed a hand hard onto one of the stones and flipped himself away. Her husband was amazing and scary.

  Noney ran.

  Inaj grabbed her hard by an ankle.

  She tumbled and landed on her butt.

  Inaj scrambled to his knees and pummeled Noney’s belly.

  Iwa threw herself on her enraged husband. He hit and kicked blindly. He bit an ear and came away with blood on his tongue. When he had his wife reduced to whimpers, he thought to wonder where Noney was. He realized that she’d scurried out.

  He bolted out of the hut and looked up and down the river, up and down the mountains. He saw nothing of his daughter. He stared for a couple of minutes in every direction, then looked up at the sky. Dark clouds crowded down from the peaks. Rain, not snow—the day was unseasonably warm. He smiled and went back into his house.