The Healer’s Mantle
Page 2
For many years, the couple lived together in the White Man’s village amid great controversy. Finally, no longer able to bear the animosity and the threats leveled against them, the mother and daughter had recently returned to the Brothers. Not long after, the mother passed, and Ithua had taken on the daughter, who showed promise as an apprentice. It was this young woman’s assistance that Acaraho had come to secure. Having been raised among the Waschini for many years, she was fluent in Whitespeak.
“You are speaking of Honovi.”
“Yes,” replied Acaraho. “I realize it would be a hardship for her to leave home. And we do not know how long she would need to stay with us. Khon’Tor is willing to meet whatever compensation you and she wish in return for this great favor.”
“I will speak to her, and Ogima Adoeete,” said Is’Taqa, referring to the High Chief of the Brothers. Is’Taqa knew of Honovi. She had often caught his eye, but he felt it was too soon since her mother’s death to make his interest known. He now wondered how long it would be before he might see her again.
“Honovi has a helping heart; I know she will be glad to assist the People’s Healer in this matter.”
With that, the two spoke a bit longer about logistics and then parted, making arrangements to meet again in a few days. Unless something went wrong, the next time they met, Honovi would be present and Acaraho would be bringing her back to live among the People for some time.
* * *
Acaraho returned and informed Khon’Tor that he would shortly know whether the Whitespeak teacher would be coming, and then sent word to Adia to the same effect. As much as he wanted to deliver the news to her in person—to seize any chance to see her again—he had much to do in arranging quarters for the teacher.
Acaraho had never met Honovi, but he knew that coming to live here, for however long it was, would be a significant change for her and no doubt stressful. The People did not always realize their larger size. For a Brother to be around one of the People could be intimidating in itself. To face a roomful, often with most line of sight obliterated, could be disconcerting even to a warrior such as Is’Taqa.
* * *
Honovi looked up as Is’Taqa called her name, and trotted over to speak with him, hiding a smile.
“Honovi. I have a request for you. It comes from the People. Their Healer, Adia, needs help. I am sure you have heard of her through my sister. Adia rescued an abandoned Waschini child a while ago and is raising it among them.”
“Yes, I saw the infant when she brought him here on the day she found him. A Waschini child, being raised with the Sasquatch.”
“The Healer is requesting your help.”
“My help?” she asked.
“Yes. The Healer wants the child to learn Whitespeak. They do not anticipate him ever leaving their community but feel it is his right. You are the only one I know of who could help out. But it would mean you would have to go and live there for a while. They said they would trade whatever you wanted if you would help them.”
Honovi thought for a moment. The poor child, he has no idea of how different he will be and the challenges ahead. I can certainly relate to the difficulties that will face him.
“I would be honored to help. But what of Ithua? I am her apprentice. And when would I have to leave?”
“Thank you, Honovi. I have already spoken to my sister, and she is prepared to do this if it is what you want. You will, no doubt, make trips back here from time to time. And I am sure you will find it an—interesting—experience. We have lived together in harmony for many generations. You may find their size a little intimidating at first. But please, above all, remember they are peaceful.”
He paused. “Are you afraid?”
“Well I was not until you said that!” and they both laughed.
* * *
The appointed day came soon enough. Acaraho had made the arrangements for Honovi’s quarters and her care. He left Kthama and made his way to the meeting spot while Khon’Tor, having such a huge stake in the matter, waited anxiously for news of Acaraho’s return.
Honovi packed a few things to take with her for her personal care. She placed her cleansing items, changes of clothing, and a comb for her long black hair into a woven carrying satchel. The comb was one she had brought back with her from her childhood. It was beautiful—carved from a variegated piece of wood and polished to a high shine. It was her most prized possession. She also packed some special dried food items that she was not sure the People would have.
Honovi sighed. She did not know how long she would be there but knew it would be a while. The child would not learn Whitespeak overnight, so she had prepared for a lengthy stay, though, as Is’Taqa had pointed out, she anticipated some going back and forth.
* * *
Is’Taqa and Honovi stood waiting for Acaraho to appear. Holding her satchel tightly, Honovi assured herself she was reasonably prepared. What she was not prepared for, however, was the magnificent sight of Acaraho coming down the hillside toward them.
Honovi stood frozen as she watched this giant easily part the branches and saplings in his way. He was muscular, broad-chested, and transported on legs that rippled with strength. He was mesmerizing—she had underestimated how big he would be. Had she not known who it was, she might have hidden behind Is’Taqa, overwhelmed. Acaraho was far larger than she expected and a little frightening in motion, though at the same time eerily attractive.
The young woman had heard stories about other Sasquatch in the farthest reaches of the land. They were said to be even taller than the People. Bulkier and thicker featured, their hands lacked delicacy. And their language was said to be more guttural than the People’s. But they were still all considered Sasquatch.
She did not find this hard to understand. The variation in the birds that inhabited the region was a perfect example—differences in size, color, type of feathers, even habitats, and song. That the Sasquatch should have differences among their kind was not too hard to grasp.
Is’Taqa waved at Acaraho, then turned to her and said, “Relax Honovi. Neither Chief Ogima Adoeete nor I would put you in a position of danger. Remember. You are as safe with Acaraho as you are back in our village—indeed, you are safer.”
Honovi took a deep breath and dropped her shoulders. After all, this was the renowned High Protector Acaraho of the People of the High Rocks. She had heard stories of him told around their fires at night.
Acaraho came to a stop about four feet from Honovi. He greeted Is’Taqa first, and then the young woman. Is’Taqa then made the formal introductions, trying to make it as normal as possible for Honovi to be standing here speaking with one of the People.
Acaraho then spoke. “Honovi—forgive my informality—I am not sure how else to address you other than Teacher. I have made arrangements for your living quarters, and I will take you there if you are ready. Once you are settled, I will introduce you to the Healer and her Helper. I realize this will be a big adjustment for you.”
He is so open and recognizes that this might be hard for me. I can see why Is’Taqa and Chief Ogima trust him.
Having this kind of frank conversation with someone in his position of authority was a great comfort to Honovi, who felt that she, in turn, could be candid with Acaraho.
“I am ready to join you, High Protector of the People,” she replied. I am pleased to be of service to your people, our friends and neighbors.” She then leaned down and picked up her bag as a signal that she was ready whenever he was.
Is’Taqa and Acaraho took leave of each other.
“Tell me when you decide what we must provide in return for this great service,” said Acaraho before they parted ways.
“Ogima Adoeete has asked that she might be taught in the ways of the People’s Healer, to whatever extent Adia feels comfortable and has time. Honovi is Ithua’s apprentice, so this would be a help to the Brothers, but she has asked nothing for herself,” answered Is’Taqa.
Acaraho nodded and replied, “I wi
ll pass this information on to Khon’Tor and Adia.”
With that, he relieved Honovi of her bag, and they made their way upward over the rough terrain. Acaraho cleared the way, decreasing his speed to match Honovi’s much slower pace. Had it not been improper, he could easily have carried her, saving a great deal of time. But he would never suggest something so informal nor as intimate as to touch one of the Brothers, and especially a female.
* * *
It was nearly twilight by the time Acaraho and Honovi reached Kthama. Word had spread of her impending arrival, and Acaraho had asked that the Great Chamber be cleared of everyone except the minimal company of guards. Also at his request, they notified Khon’Tor when the watchers spotted the two approaching, so he could be present when they arrived.
As they entered, Honovi looked around at the height and breadth of the People’s home. In the background, she could glimpse a number of tunnels connecting to the vast cavern. How big is this place?
Kthama was indeed intimidating. And because it was cold weather, the majority of the People were inside.
Had Acaraho not cleared the Great Chamber, it would ordinarily have been filled with females entertaining themselves with their interests. Some would be working on weaving baskets from the leaves and vines they had prepared earlier, trying to improve the tightness of the weave, changing designs to make the patterns more interesting. Others would be experimenting with new tools for cooking, new playthings for the offspring, or sewing new wraps. Mothers with young offspring would be happily chatting while watching their offspring frolic together in the large open area of the Great Chamber.
Many of the males would also have been scattered about, occupying themselves with their interests, whether it be honing sharp edges onto rocks for use as hunting and cutting tools, planning their next hunting expedition, or exchanging noteworthy or humorous stories of the past.
Acaraho introduced Honovi to Khon’Tor. Honovi was exhausted, dusty, and hungry. Standing there with not one, but two massive Sasquatch males in front of her, was almost all she could bear. She was overwrought, and she almost started to cry but squeezed her eyes to fight back the stinging tears.
“Welcome to Kthama,” said Khon’Tor. “Once you get settled, if there is anything you need above what we have provided, all you need do is mention it to anyone here, and it will be taken care of. I told my people that you were coming.”
Acaraho noticed that Khon’Tor was speaking more gently than usual, abandoning his curt, to-the-point, and sometimes sharp rendition of the language.
It was unlike Khon’Tor to be so courteous, but a great deal was riding on the teacher’s success in teaching Whitespeak to the Waschini offspring.
“Thank you for your kindness,” said Honovi, then looking at Acaraho, hoping she could soon go to her quarters to recover.
* * *
Acaraho had taken great care in selecting a place for Honovi to stay. He did not want it too far away from the Healer’s Quarters, or too close to the other general living arrangements. He wanted her to have privacy, yet not feel excluded. It had taken him some time, but in the end, he was satisfied with his selection.
He tried to anticipate everything necessary to make Honovi’s stay more comfortable. He had visited with the females who cooked for the general visitors and discussed a more subtle presentation of the raw meats that were part of their diet. These might offend Honovi if displayed openly, as the Brothers tended to cook meats before eating. Acaraho made sure each of the guards and watchers knew she was in their care, and that they knew where her quarters were in case she got lost in the many tunnels and various rooms. They all looked much alike at first, other than the location markings on the tunnel walls.
The markings were indeed directional, and in time he would explain them to Honovi. The People’s offspring also had to learn their way through the tunnel system and the marks were there to teach them how to find their way—just as they would help Honovi.
Finally, they arrived at her quarters. Acaraho signaled for Honovi to open the door herself. He’d had the stone door replaced with a wooden version, lashed together with dried vines and sinew. Everything was more extensive in scale from anything she was used to, and he wanted her to know she would be able to operate the door as she wished.
Honovi tugged the wooden door open and stepped into the room. Acaraho knew she would find it large, which was to be expected considering everything at Kthama was oversized—even by the People’s standards.
He had solicited the help of the older females of the community to prepare the room. He made sure it had the usual appointments but knew that for it to be pleasing to a female, it needed a female’s touch. They had not disappointed him. Despite being essentially a rock chamber that was buried underground, it was surprisingly welcoming. Baskets of dried flowers lined the floors up against the walls and hung from the ceiling above. Small baskets holding nuts and dried foods sat on a small stone table over by the far wall. The females had used a chalk wash to lighten the wall behind the table, giving an appearance of separation as well as brightening the overall area. They had placed small, decorative rocks to add color.
Not being able to see as well in the dark as the People, Acaraho knew nighttime would present a problem for Honovi. As a solution, just as they always did if one of the Brothers had reason to stop over at Kthama, he had a collection of phosphorus rocks of different sizes brought in and placed around the perimeter. It meant the room would never be in total darkness unless she chose to cover them while she slept.
A small basket of the same calcite and fluorite rocks sat next to the sleeping mat to serve as a type of portable light for her to carry around as need be. They could be placed under the overhead shaft on the worktable and recharged in the sunlight, to be replaced at dusk. There were other larger woven baskets set around for her to store her personal belongings.
Honovi scanned the area and then turned to look up at Acaraho. “Thank you, High Protector of the People. You have gone to great trouble to make me feel welcome. It is beautiful, and I deeply appreciate it.”
“It is later than I expected. Perhaps you would like to rest and meet the others in the morning? I will arrange to have a selection of food sent to you. I will also be placing a guard at the end of the corridor here for your convenience should you need something. Please do not let this alarm you. You are free to wander and go anywhere you wish here, Honovi. And please call me Acaraho.”
“Thank you again, Acaraho. For everything,” she answered.
* * *
Adia and Nadiwani were waiting, still expecting the Teacher’s arrival. Acaraho made his way to their quarters to let them know she would instead be coming in the morning. He was pleased he would have another excuse to revisit them so soon when he brought Honovi to meet them.
He announced his arrival and Nadiwani called out to him to come on in, fully expecting the Teacher to be with him.
Seeing she was not there, Adia frowned slightly.
“Our return trip took longer than expected. The Teacher is tired. She is resting and looks forward to meeting you in the morning,” he explained. “I hope you will take the advantage to get some additional rest as well. Even though I know you have both looked forward to this, no doubt the days ahead will be taxing for all of you,” he added.
On his way back to his quarters, Acaraho asked First Guard Awan to station someone outside Honovi’s rooms as he had promised.
* * *
Acaraho enjoyed being in the females’ company again. In a way, it felt like coming home. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed watching the Healer and her Helper together. They were very close; they had more than a working relationship.
He remembered an unguarded moment when Adia’s control had wavered. He had seen the look of tenderness in her eyes when she looked at him, and he memorized it to savor later when his attention was not divided and the night was his alone.
* * *
The next morning, Acaraho collected Honovi
and brought her to meet Adia and Nadiwani, who were anxiously awaiting her arrival. The two had discussed the night before how overwhelming this would be for the young woman, not only leaving her own kind but making the transition to such a large and intimidating world as the People lived in. How much things had changed since the times when no one ever entered the Healer’s Quarters.
Acaraho brought Honovi into the room and introduced them. Adia and Nadiwani had decided to remain seated for fear of overwhelming Honovi, and the three sat together for a while, exchanging chit-chat until Honovi was more at ease. Mapiya was watching Oh’Dar in her quarters so they could talk without distraction.
Adia looked at Honovi while Nadiwani was talking to her. I can see her mother was one of the Brothers, and her father was Waschini. Her skin color is lighter and her eyes more golden than any of the Brothers'. With her background, she will no doubt understand the difficulties awaiting Oh’Dar as an Outsider.
The conversation moved on to the subject of Oh’Dar’s training. They discussed the times Honovi would be there with them, determining a schedule that would not exhaust her physical reserves. They talked about what Oh’Dar was like and answered her questions.
“Thank you again for coming. So tomorrow you will meet Oh’Dar and start his training?” asked Adia.
“Yes, that will be fine. I am happy to help you, and I will appreciate anything you can teach me about your practices,” Honovi answered.
Adia smiled at her. “Ithua and I often compare practices and new ideas; we enjoy learning from each other. I will be glad to answer your questions about anything the People might do differently, and show you whatever you are interested in.”