Winter's Tree

14 - The Taste of Fruit

It took nine days to find their clan. It would have been less if not for Bene. Out of eighty people, eleven survived. Most of them old, two of them children. Not one of them able to walk for long, or hold a spear in defense of themselves.

Ayessa glanced to where Bene stumbled along, supported by an elderly woman who had her arm looped under his. He was not the man Ayessa remembered. Where he had been thin, he was now haggard. The bones in his cheeks stood out against a gaunt frame and his dark eyes shifted from side to side, searching, but not seeing. He mumbled quietly to himself and the woman who held him patted him gently on the arm, murmuring something reassuring in his ear.

Ayessa had thought his wits jarred by the attack on his people, but Besheyu, a man of over fifty winters, said it had started several summers past and each season had been worse than the one before. Bene had led in name only, the day the blue-eyed men had come. It was his son, Onen who had led the spears to fight and lost.

Besheyu had saved the ones he could. Though his swollen knuckles would not allow him to hold a spear any longer, his sturdy build still held some of the strength of what had once been a powerful man. He had carried the children, Judaii and Heime, to the cave by the river where they hid their winter stores and had gone back as many times as he could before the risk became too great. There they had remained for days until they had heard Obu's hunters pass by the river and recognized them for friends.

Ayessa had thought it would cheer Makaro to see some of his people, but he had remained sullen and unresponsive.

They encounter sentries before they reached the camp, a fact that earned a nod of approval from Obu. The clan had encountered no threats on their travels south, they informed them, and the herds, though behind them, would reach the winter grounds soon. All would be well.

As they entered the camp itself, a cry arose for the safe return of their hunters, though a few of the people cast curious glances at the newcomers.

"Bene!" Atua said as he approached, but Obu forestalled him with a hand on his arm and whispered hurriedly in his ear.

Atua's face sagged and his eyes grew mournful.

"Come, friend. Jarai. Our fires are yours," he said, gently taking Bene by the arm and leading him toward the center of the camp. Bene, with his shuffling gait, allowed himself to be led.

Oyeka, who had come behind their father, searched the faces of the hunters until his eyes rested on Umeke. He gave him a small nod, then turned and followed Atua and Bene toward the main fire.

Ayessa cast her gaze towards Umeke and lowered her voice so only he would hear.
"He has missed fishing, I think, but he will never tell you so."

Umeke chuckled. "He is a stubborn man, your brother, but still, it is nice to know he worries about me."

Ayessa smiled and headed past the outer row of tents towards the one she shared with her father. As a hunter, she could have claimed her own tent, but it would have been unconventional. Most women stayed with their fathers or brothers until joining the tent of another man. Sometimes, but not often two women would share a tent, or two men. Whether as lovers or as friends, the clan never asked, and the pair rarely said.

Ayessa thought there were many more of the people who simply had their relations outside the tents. They bore children, gave their strength to the clan, and then took their pleasure elsewhere. She hoped Oyeka would not be one of these. Umeke was a good man, but she did not think he would wait if Oyeka took a woman, and whether Oyeka knew it or not, his heart belonged to Umeke, just as hers belonged to Makaro.

She unpacked her belongings, but left her knife in its sheath at her hip and her spear strung across her back. She would not be caught unarmed again.

As night fell, she made her way back towards the main fire, calling out greetings as she passed tents with their flaps open, but not stopping to accept the unspoken invitation to enter. There would be time for visits later, for now, she longed for her father's wisdom and insight.

"We will do as we always do," her father was saying as she approached. "When the herd arrives, we will follow it, as we have always done. When spring comes, we will prepare to return north, as we have always done."

"Things are not as they were, maitze," Akouma said. "We can not do as we have always done and pretend these things have not happened."

"I did not say we would pretend they did not happen. I said we would not let them stop us from being as we are."

"I do not understand the difference," Akouma admitted.

Atua sighed, his eyes falling to Bene who sat near the fire, staring unseeing into its depths.

"It means," he said, "that we will do as we do, but not without precaution. We will keep men on lookout day and night, and everyone is to have a spear at hand at all times."

He paused, then continued, "I think, it is also time to gather the clans."

There was a murmur among the crowd, like the buzz of insects after a storm. A Gathering had not been held in Ayessa's lifetime, she only knew the stories from Atua's own youth.

"Here, we are few," he said. "Together we would be many. Maybe enough to turn back these pale-skinned strangers."

There were some who disagreed, arguing for the clan to head further south, away from the invaders, but most were in agreement with Atua.

"Oyeka," Atua said. "You will carry word to the other clans. I can not give you all our hunters, we must protect our women and children if they return, but you may take three with you."

"I will go, maitze," Umeke said.

"And I," Akouma said.

Satsai protested, but he hushed her with a motion.

"I as well," Makaro said, rising from his spot across the fire.

It was Ayessa's turn to protest, but before she could open her mouth, Atua turned to her.

"You will remain here, Ayessa," Atua said. "I will have need of you."

He turned back to Oyeka. "Leave in two days. Enough time for the men to recover from their journey." He glanced at Satsai. "Or make peace with their women."

Some in the crowd laughed.

"Come," Atua said, when the laughter died down, "let us talk now of happier things. Who has a story for us tonight?"

Ayessa stopped listening and watched Makaro instead. He had not reseated himself, instead, taking his leave of the fire.

"Are you angry, sister?" Oyeka asked, coming to sit beside her.

"Of course I am angry," she replied. "I should be going with you. What good am I here?"

"You will do as I did, when you left," he replied.

"And what was that?" she asked.

"Reassured the people, calmed their fears."

She sighed. "I am no good at these things."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You will be fine. Now go, find Makaro. I do not know what has happened between you, but I can see it troubles you. Go. Mend it before he leaves."

She rose and made her goodbyes to those gathered near her, then slipped into the darkness towards Makaro's tent. Her fingers brushed against a shrub and instinctively, like she had as a child, her fingers entwined in its branches and with a tug, she plucked several small berried from its limb
He would listen to her this time, and she would find a way to let him know she loved him and would wait for his return. She popped the berries into her mouth, their tart, almost bitter taste rolling down her tongue.

A noise in the trees to her left drew her attention, and she turned towards it. The light of the moon was dim, but enough to illuminate the two figures before her. Tebia, with her tunic hoisted and there, between her legs, was Makaro.