by Sue Harrison
“I need to talk to my husband.”
Chakliux beckoned her into the lodge and saw that Red Leaf and Sok were awake. Sok sat down beside the hearth.
Chakliux wrapped himself up in his sleeping robes, lay down and turned his back.
“Fox Barking came to me,” Snow-in-her-hair said. “What he told me, is it true?”
“Yes,” Red Leaf said quietly, and came to stand beside Sok.
“Why did you do such a thing?”
“To keep my husband,” Red Leaf said.
“Almost, I can understand,” said Snow-in-her-hair, then she asked, “If I come with you, will I and my child be safe?”
“You will be safe,” Sok said, his words loud after the quietness of the women’s voices.
“No,” Snow-in-her-hair said, “I am asking Red Leaf.”
“You will be safe, and any of your children.”
“When do you leave?”
“In the morning,” Sok said, “after we have taken the lodge cover down.”
“Can you help me with my lodge cover also?” she asked.
“I will help you,” Sok said, and Chakliux heard the gladness in his voice.
She left, and then their mother Day Woman came. Her tears and sobbing woke even Cries-loud. She would come with them, she said, and no argument from Sok or Chakliux could convince her otherwise. She had already brought her pack. Fox Barking was angry, she said, but he did not stop her. What good was she, a woman without sons in the village, a woman too old to bear more sons? Fox Barking would probably throw her away at the beginning of the next winter. He was better off with a younger wife.
What could Chakliux and Sok do except agree to take her?
In the morning, when they rolled up their sleeping robes, when Red Leaf and Day Woman went to empty the food cache, as Cries-loud and Chakliux began to take the lodge cover from the poles, then Ligige’ came to them. She was leading Wolf-and-Raven’s dog, her belongings strapped to the dog’s back. She sat on her haunches and watched them work, called out advice now and again.
By noon, they were ready to leave the village. Ignoring the curses shouted against them, and acknowledging the cries that were blessings, they started out: two hunters, two wives, a boy, a baby, five dogs and two old women.
Chapter Forty-eight
FOR THE THIRD TIME since the men had returned, K’os’s dreams took her back to the day at the Grandfather Rock. For the third night, she was not K’os, healer, feared by all, but K’os, daughter of Mink, a girl without power. She awoke with a start. Her bedding was wrapped around her, pinning her arms as Gull Wing had pinned her arms, and her hair had come loose from its braid and lay across her face, smothering her as her parka had smothered her.
Then she heard the man’s voice. Because she was still in her dream, she thought it was Gull Wing. She opened her mouth to scream, but in taking a breath, drew her own hair down her throat. Hands were on her face, but they were gentle, pulling away the hair, loosening the blankets. Then her mind cleared and her eyes, and she knew it was Chakliux.
She pushed away his hands, then stood, shook off her bedding furs, catching one to wrap around her waist. She stirred the hearth coals, moved a tripod that held a caribou skin of stew closer to the coals, then squatted on her haunches and looked at him.
He was larger than she remembered, and his face had changed. Boy to man? No, that had happened long before. Storyteller to warrior. Perhaps that.
“So you are alive,” she said to him.
The words were harsh, rough with the phlegm of sleep.
His silence reminded her of Ground Beater, and she wondered if the spirit of her dead husband had come to Chakliux, had strengthened him with a need for revenge.
“Our warriors say the Near River men fought bravely,” K’os said. “They also tell me you led them.”
“We fought to protect the women and children, the old ones,” Chakliux said.
K’os rose and took two wooden bowls, filled them with meat from the cooking bag. “You will eat?” she asked, holding both bowls out to him.
He took one, wrapped his hands around it and waited until K’os took the first bite, then he ate.
“You are afraid I would poison you?” she asked, mocking him.
“You have taught me to be careful,” he answered.
“And because I eat, you think you are safe? What if I, too, have decided to die? What if I decided to sacrifice myself in order to kill the one who has killed so many of my people?”
Chakliux smiled. “You do not care about your people. Why should you die for them?”
“Why not? I will die someday anyway. I am an old woman.”
Chakliux studied her. “Yes,” he finally said, “you are an old woman.”
His words enraged her, but she held her anger in check. “Wisdom comes with age. Strength, power, respect.”
“For some.”
Her throat burned with unspoken curses, and she gripped her bowl tightly to keep her fingers from flying to his face.
“So you have come to laugh at our defeat, to take your pick of women? Only five have husbands, six if you count Aqamdax, though Night Man will die soon.” K’os heard his gasp as she mentioned Aqamdax’s name. “You did not know the woman was here?” she asked. She laughed. “She was given to me by Tikaani and Cen. She was my slave until Tikaani decided his brother needed a wife. I used her well.” Again she laughed, and felt the laughter bring back a portion of her power. “So she has found a place in your heart. I thought you had no room for anyone but a dead woman and her dead son.”
Chakliux gave no answer, so K’os continued. “Yes, Cen and Tikaani captured her and the boy, her brother. He is here also. Star took him as son, but do not worry about avenging their capture. Tikaani is dead, and since Cen did not return from the battle, I assume he is also.” She slitted her eyes and watched Chakliux. He lifted his bowl to his mouth, ate until the bowl was empty.
“I asked why you are here,” K’os said, and did not refill his bowl, did not offer water.
He stood, took a water bladder from the lodge poles and drank, wiped a hand across his mouth, then held the bladder out to her. She shook her head.
“I am here to tell you that the Near River men plan an attack in revenge.”
“How many?”
“I do not know.”
“Do they know you have come to warn us?”
“I do not think so.”
“Why did you come? Why not stay with them and fight?”
She saw him hesitate, and remembered his doing the same as a small boy when there was something he did not want to tell her. He might be a man, a warrior, even Dzuuggi, but still, he was a child, and she knew that child well.
“They do not want you with them. Why?”
Chakliux squatted again beside the fire. “I did not lead by choice or decision—theirs or mine. I led because I was the first to understand the plan your men used in fighting us.”
“And you devised a way to meet their attack.”
He rested his wrists over his knees. “The elders say you were the one who gave the bow weapons to the Cousin River men. They say you took a bow from one of our elders.”
K’os raised her eyebrows. “A fine old man,” she said. “Perhaps you remember him from his visits to my lodge. He was a trader and sometimes enjoyed our hospitality. Sad how he died.” When Chakliux said nothing, she finished the meat in her bowl, then rose and got herself more but did not offer any to him. “So why warn us?” she asked as she sat down again. “Surely you must consider us your enemy.”
“Truly, I have only one enemy,” he said.
“You think so?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“You are wrong. Star hates you for killing her brothers. Aqamdax hates you because you left her here and did not try to find her. Those five warriors who survived, they hate you also.”
“I warn you because of the women and children. I warn you so you can leave the village before the N
ear River men come.”
“That is what you think we would do? Run away? Hide? You think we are so frightened of the Near Rivers that we would leave our wounded, our old ones?”
“I think,” Chakliux said slowly, “that you have three, four days to decide what to do. Three, four days to carry your children and wounded and old ones to a safer place.”
“And you will fight with them?” K’os asked.
“I will not,” he said. “I fight to save lives, not take them.”
He pulled his parka hood up around his face and turned toward the entrance tunnel.
“Chakliux,” K’os called. “The man Fox Barking and the one they call Sleeps Long, did they die in the battle?”
“Sleeps Long is dead.”
“And Fox Barking?” she asked.
“He now leads the Near River People.”
He left the lodge, and it was not until K’os raised her food bowl to her mouth that she realized she had sunk her teeth through her bottom lip.
Chakliux crept through the dark shadows of the village to Star’s lodge. He expected to hear the howling of Cloud Finder’s dogs, but though they raised their heads as he passed, only one barked—two short yips. They remembered him. Knew him as part of the village.
He came to the lodge, crouched beside the entrance tunnel. He did not want to go inside, to risk waking Star or her mother or Aqamdax’s husband, Night Man. But how could he leave the village without seeing Aqamdax?
He was still for a long time, until the cold numbed his feet and crept up into his ankles. Finally, he pulled the doorflap aside. It was a square of caribou hide, sewn double and weighted at the bottom with rocks to hold it in place against the wind. No one spoke, no dog barked, so he crept inside, settled the doorflap behind him and again waited, listened.
Finally he pulled aside the inner doorflap. He heard a low growl. Star, too, kept a dog inside her lodge? Then he realized it was Biter. The knowledge brought a smile, and he held his hand out from the tunnel, whispered the dog’s name, removed a stick of dried meat from his sleeve and offered it. Biter came slowly. In the light of the hearth coals, Chakliux could see that his fur was bristled. He sniffed at the meat, took it carefully from Chakliux’s fingers, then slowly wagged his tail. Chakliux stroked the dog’s wide chest, again whispered his name. Biter took the meat back to a mat on the women’s side of the lodge.
Still partially hidden in the tunnel, Chakliux could make out Ghaden, lying with mouth open. The boy moved, flung an arm over the dog, muttered in his sleep, then was still. Someone was lying beside him. Aqamdax? Star? Chakliux raised himself higher on his knees. No, a girl. She turned, and he saw her face. Yaa. Why not? If Biter had made it here, why not Yaa? Her mother had said she and the dog disappeared only a few days after Chakliux had left the village. Perhaps Cen and Tikaani had taken her, too. Or perhaps she had followed them. He tried to imagine himself as a child doing such a thing, but could not.
He moved so he could see the other side of the lodge. Two women—Star and one with gray hair. Her mother. He pushed himself farther into the lodge, saw Night Man, asleep, then raised his eyes to the face of the one who sat beside Night Man.
Aqamdax. She smiled, a sad smile, motioned for him to go back into the entrance tunnel. He waited, and then she was there beside him, a hare fur blanket wrapped around her shoulders and up over her head. In the darkness, he reached out to her face. Her cheeks were wet. She lay her head on his shoulder and they sat without speaking for a long time.
“I prayed you would come for me,” she finally whispered.
“Come with me now,” he said, tucking his hand into the warmth between her hair and the blanket.
“I cannot leave my husband,” she told him. “I cannot leave Ghaden or Yaa.”
“Bring them. All of them.”
“Night Man is too ill. I cannot move him.”
“Aqamdax,” he said, “the Near River men are coming to attack the village. You have three, four days, that is all. Is Night Man strong enough to walk into the woods? If you bring him that far, I can take him on a travois, get him away from the village before the attack.”
“Let me think,” she said, and again leaned her head on his shoulder.
He placed his arm around her, drew her close. She was wife to another, but to find her, after searching so long—he could not believe it was true.
“Tomorrow, when the sun is highest in the sky,” Aqamdax said, “wait for us in the woods. Do you know the black rock that is next to the path?”
“I know it.”
“We will try to be there. Should I tell the others, our few men, that the Near River warriors come?”
“I have told K’os,” Chakliux said.
“You cannot stay here. The men, they will kill you.”
“Do not worry. I am with my brother.”
“Sok is here?”
“He waits for me, but he does not know you are here.”
He felt her mouth move in a smile under his fingertips.
“He will not be happy you have found me,” she said.
“Yes, he will,” Chakliux told her. “He knows how long I searched for you.”
“Why did you wait until now to come?”
“First I went to your village,” he told her.
He heard her gasp. “To my people?” she asked.
“To your people, and the Walrus.”
“You saw Qung and He Sings; you saw Tut?”
“All of them. I lived with Tut and her brothers.”
“Qung is well?”
“She is well.” He leaned his cheek against the top of her head, held her. She raised a hand to his face, and he clasped her wrist, felt the string of sinew she wore as a bracelet. He fingered the knots, recognized the shape of the otter.
“I kept it,” she said, then wiggled away from him, fumbling with something tied at her waist. In the darkness of the entrance tunnel, he could not see what it was, but she placed it in his hands, and it was cool and smooth under his fingers.
“It is a whale tooth carved into a shell,” she whispered. “Something the storytellers of my village wear. Qung gave it to me. It will remind you of the bond we share as storytellers just as the sinew at my wrist reminds me that we both came from the otter.”
A soft moan echoed from within the lodge.
Aqamdax pressed close to Chakliux, whispered, “My husband.” And suddenly she was gone, as quickly as she had come.
Aqamdax finally slept just as dawn lighted the sky. Then she was pulled from dreams by a loud voice, Fisher calling, scratching at the lodge until Biter’s barking woke everyone.
Fisher came inside without Star’s invitation, took a place beside Night Man, who had also been awakened by the man’s rudeness.
“K’os sent me,” he said to Star. “She says that everyone in the village will soon be here.”
Star gasped.
“You do not have to feed them. It is only so we can meet and discuss plans. Last night Chakliux came to the village, told K’os the Near Rivers will soon attack. She wants us to plan how best to fight them. She decided we should meet in this lodge, especially since Night Man cannot be moved.” He nodded toward Night Man. “She wants your wisdom,” he said.
Night Man’s eyes cleared, and he straightened himself on his mats.
Aqamdax got up from her bed, pulled on leggings and a caribou hide shirt, then rolled her bedding and got food. Star spent a long time dressing, combing her hair. She did everything in front of Fisher, watching him with slow-blinking eyes.
Aqamdax asked Yaa to help her take Long Eyes to the women’s place. Yaa opened her mouth, and Aqamdax knew she was going to ask why Long Eyes had to go outside. At night and in the morning, she usually urinated in a wooden trough. But Aqamdax frowned at the girl and shook her head, then bundled Long Eyes into leggings, boots and parka, and the three went outside.
When they got to the women’s place, Aqamdax helped Long Eyes with leggings and parka, held her as she crouche
d and made water. Then as the old woman adjusted her clothing, Aqamdax drew Yaa aside and told her of Chakliux’s plan.
“Go and tell him I cannot get away, that K’os probably guessed what we would do and called a meeting in our lodge.” She cupped the girl’s chin in her hands. “Take Ghaden and Biter and go with him. Do not stay in the village.”
“It is only Chakliux? He is alone?” Yaa asked.
“He and Sok,” Aqamdax told her.
Yaa shook her head and looked away. “We cannot go with him,” she said. “Ghaden cannot go. I cannot.”
“Yaa, that is foolish. The Near River men—”
“Aqamdax, when we were in the Near River Village, you told me to keep talking to Ghaden, to try to help him remember who killed … his … your mother.”
Aqamdax’s breath stopped. “Yes,” she said softly.
“At the dancing, when the men here were preparing to fight our village, do you remember the boots they wore, the fancy ones with rattlers?”
Aqamdax nodded.
“The noise of the boots helped Ghaden remember. The killer’s boots had rattlers, and on the sides the fur was cut to look like the sun.”
“Sok,” Aqamdax said softly.
“We will stay with you,” Yaa said, her words loud. “We will fight with you against the Near Rivers. If they try to kill Night Man, we will kill them.”
They helped Long Eyes back to the lodge, then cleared away bedding and mats, making as much space as possible for the village people. Aqamdax tried not to think of Chakliux waiting for her, or what he would do when she did not come.
That morning, K’os sent boys out to watch, to wait on all sides of the village, the youngest to the north where the Near Rivers were least likely to come, the oldest to the south, hidden in the brush of the Cousin River.
When the meeting started, and K’os told the people that Chakliux had come and brought a warning, they scoffed, but then several of the old women, those who had often spat at K’os, took her side.
