Asha
Asha had just returned from her hunt and sent the jaguars off to find food of their own. She could not bring them with her since they always scared away the game. Then she crawled to the terrace of her house and began peeling the feathers off the birds she had caught. She always dined with the two jakeen since they were both too preoccupied with collecting herbs and mending small illnesses. Also, Anaïs’ belly was now too round for her to move much.
“What have you caught?” the very woman Asha had been thinking about asked from where she was sitting. The Kahari’s and the jakeen’s houses were neighbouring and it was easy to speak across the distance between them.
Asha held up her prey. “Parrots.”
Anaïs smiled. She was carving out a figure of wood, no doubts as a toy for her child. Asha thought she had never seen the woman as happy as she was now. And the man whose name no one knew had been seen smiling two days earlier.
Anaïs looked up then, her brows raised in interest. Asha followed her gaze and saw that people were collecting around something. Unable to still her curiosity the way she knew a Kahari should, she jumped up and quickly crawled down the rope.
“Kahari!” Equem called her over with a smile. “There is someone you must meet.”
The crowd parted and let her see the man they were all circling. Asha made sure to stand a little taller, showing a little more authority.
He was young, most likely past twenty summers, but not long past. His skin was lighter than that of the usual Yaguar, but a Yaguar he was. His eyes were dark and rich. She had never seen him before.
He smiled. “You are the new Kahari?”
“Yes,” she said. “Who are you?”
“My name is Hiram,” he replied. “My family and I moved to this town while you were in Etheron.”
“He left to travel just before you returned,” Equem said.
“Travel? Travel where?”
His smile grew. “First, I was planning to go to Tibera to meet the many traders and sailors and then go back, but one of them persuaded me to go with him and his men across the Warm Sea.” He chuckled while the tribe listened to him, fascinated. “I had to work my ticket onto the boat, but it was worth it.
“The lands to the east have a burning sun and their lands are all desert. They build their towns in oases where ponds and strange trees with hard fruits – they call them coconuts – break the sands. And the architecture… it is simply stunning!”
Asha listened intently. She knew most of the people in the town did not know what architecture meant, but Thomas had taught her about it when she was in the north. “Are they more beautiful than the Solar Temples?”
“You’ve seen a Solar Temple?” he asked, frowning.
“I lived with the northerners,” she reminded him, smiling a little when she saw that he understood. “My mentor, lord Thomas Bonney, taught me how they were built and why.”
“I never got to see one,” he admitted. “Of course, I travelled with poorer men than you did.”
“You must tell me more,” she said, more than interested in hearing what he had to say. From Thomas, she had learned that interest in all things was the road to wisdom. It was easy to have interest in what Hiram had to say. “I would like to hear of it. We should feast together tonight, so that Hiram may have an opportunity to tell at least some of his stories.”
The townsfolk nodded in agreement, slowly returning to their work. Only what Asha assumed to be Hiram’s family stayed back and she offered them a quick smile before turning to leave.
“Kahari,” she heard Hiram say and she turned around.
“Yes?”
“If I may ask?” She gave him a quick nod, still not used to the respect that was given to her as Kahari. “They say you have jaguars?”
“I do. They are hunting now.”
A mix of fear and fascination appeared on his face. “May I see them, when they return?”
Asha smiled. “Of course. You would have to – they never attack my clan, but to them you are a stranger.”
She almost laughed at the expression of sudden fear on his face, although he quickly erased it. “When I heard you had jaguars – I’m sure you wouldn’t understand, but I was suddenly much less eager to leave again.”
Asha raised an eyebrow. “You like to travel?”
“I like to learn,” he corrected. “But those two are barely different to me.”
“I could call them back if you’d like,” she offered.
He looked back at his parents, who just nodded. “Yes. Very much so.”
Asha smiled and nodded toward the outer perimeters of the village. They walked in silence. She could feel his nervous energy rolling off him; when someone was presented to the jaguars, they never showed their fear in their faces, and always in their energy. It was in the way they moved, in the way they looked over their shoulder now and then.
“Are you afraid?” she asked with a small smile.
He shook his head. “No, just… nervous.”
She pretended to believe him. That was always best. Let him have his pride. “They won’t bite,” she told him.
When they reached the edges of the town, Asha pulled out a whistle she had made herself from the horn of an antelope. She blew it and it emitted a loud, shrill sound.
“Do they respond to that?” Hiram asked.
Asha nodded, smiling with happiness. He was the first one – except for Anaïs to ever show real interest in the animals. Everyone else seemed either too afraid or too caught up in tradition to go nearer.
“How long until they are here?” he asked impatiently.
“It depends.” She blew the whistle again. “But they’ll come.”
And come they did. They emerged from the shadows, dark and moving like shadows of their own. Their gleaming, golden eyes only made them appear more ethereal.
“Wow,” Hiram breathed. “Look how they move, like water. Are they fully grown?”
“Yes.”
Hiram seemed to have been sucked into the vision of the jaguars, moving slowly and apprehensively towards them. They smelled a stranger and Asha could see them considering their next move.
She held out a hand and one of them came to her, sniffing her hand and rubbing his head against it. Then the next one closed in, eyeing Hiram before letting Asha touch her. After some moments, she let Hiram move closer.
“Let them smell you,” she told him.
“My hands… that close to their teeth?” He looked uncertain to say the least.
“They won’t hurt you. Not when I’m here.”
He still looked scared, but he reached out nonetheless. One of the jaguars leaned forwards, stretching its neck, and smelled his hand.
“Stand still,” Asha said with as calm a voice as possible. “He’ll smell your fear, and trust me, he is as frightened as you.”
When its nose came in contact with Hiram’s hand, the boy flinched, but the jaguar seemed to not pay much attention. It nipped at his skin. “It’s just for fun,” Asha said quickly when she saw how white his face had gone. “Just… stay calm.”
Both of the jaguars were now closing in on him. For her, it was obvious they just wanted to get to know the new member of their clan; for him, however, it was like a death sentence. They nudged his hands carefully with their noses and he finally spread them, letting the jaguars move his hands over their heads and down their necks.
“I’m petting them,” he said, and it sounded almost like a question. “Real jaguars.”
“Very real,” Ash agreed, laughing a little at his expression of wonder.
“Asha!” someone shouted and she turned around to see Tysha running towards her. “Asha, Anaïs has entered labour,” she breathed.
“Now?”
“Now, come! She wants you there.”
Asha sent Hiram an apologetic glance before hurrying after the woman. The clansmen had once more left their work, this time because of the loud sudden scream of the northern woman. As the Kahari, Asha was expected to be close by during the delivery. During a birth, spirits would wander close to the pregnant woman, and not all of them would be good, fighting for a place within the newborn. This was why only women, who were known to have stronger spiritual powers, were allowed close. The Kahari and jakeen, with their stronger powers, were needed to control this closeness of the spiritual world.
While men retreated, Asha hurried up the rope to the house of the jakeen and entered the room. It was filled with the stench of sweat and blood and Anaïs had been laid on thick furs, rolls and pillows keeping her back elevated. In her hand, which was covered in a thick layer of sweat, she clenched the wooden figure she had been carving.
“Water,” Talia rasped.
Anaïs was lying still now, panting for breath. Her dress was bunched up around her waist, revealing everything, and her face was red with exhaustion already. “How is she?”
“Her first contractions are over now. It might be a while until she has another, or it might be in just a few moments,” Talia said. Her wrinkly hand pushed Anaïs hair out of her face. “No matter what, she needs to rest,” she said, mostly to Anaïs.
“How long will it be?” Anaïs asked, her voice shaky.
“It depends.”
“I don’t think I can.” Her eyes travelled around the faces in the room. There were two other women except from Talia and Asha, there to help and fetch things.
“Of course you can,” Asha said quickly, kneeling beside her.
Then her eyebrows, so black in contrast to her now sickly pale skin, moved closer to each other as she let out a long scream.
“Let her hold your hand,” said Talia to Asha, who quickly complied. The grip was vicelike and hard that Asha feared she would break her bones. Then Talia held the back of Anaïs head and mumbled, “Bite on this.”
Anaïs bit down on the lump of tree given to her. Her screams were silenced a little, but they sounded much more painful, much more ferocious, like growls stemming from her throat. Her back arched from the pillows.
“Have you ever given birth before?” Talia asked once the contraction subsided.
“No,” Anaïs whispered, her voice even raspier than Talia’s now.
“You’re doing very well. Very well. Drink this.”
Anaïs took the cup with blind faith and drank. Obviously, it was not water this time and she choked on the contents. “What is it?”
“It’ll help with the pain,” Talia said and Anaïs took another sip, fighting to keep it down.
After that, the contractions only became longer and more painful, with less time between them to rest. Anaïs skin was now slick with sweat and one of the women sat at her side at all times with a cloth that she dipped in cold water to cool Anaïs’ face.
It seemed an eternity or just five minutes when she entered a particularly long cramp, in which she arched her back until only her legs and head rested on the skins and tears left her eyes. “You’re doing so well,” Talia kept whispering, “just keep going.”
Talia looked up and met Asha’s gaze. “Can I speak to you?”
Asha reluctantly let go of Anaïs’ hand and followed Talia outside. It was strange to see the daylight after so much darkness, to breathe in fresh air after sweat and blood.
“The birth is not going well,” Talia said regrettably.
Asha frowned in disbelief. “But you said…?”
“I said it was going well because otherwise, she’s lose her will. If she loses the powers of her will, the dark spirits will take her."
“What is happening?”
Talia looked towards Anaïs, who had stopped screaming for a moment, before speaking. “The child is turned the wrong way. We need to reach in and turn it.”
Anaïs furrowed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Either that or both mother and child dies.” Talia shuffled her feet nervously. Asha had never seen her nervous before. “And I sense it is an important child. It is a fighter.”
“What do I need to do?” Asha asked.
“First, we will give her more tea and spirits to keep her strong against the pain. We will have to wait for it to work, but then you have to reach in and turn the child around.”
Just the thought had Asha’s back crippling as though a thousand spiders were crawling up and down it. “I? I can’t… surely…”
“Yes, you can.” Talia took Asha’s hands in her own. “Your fingers are long and thin where mine are clumsy. You are the Kahari.”
Asha clenched her eyes shut, remembering. It had been years, but it still plagued her that Equem had killed her first jaguar. A Kahari was meant to be strong for his people, not to need the people’s strength for protection. Now was the time when she proved to everyone that she was worthy. “I’ll do it,” she said finally.
By the time the herbs began working it was dark outside. The moon had risen, full and illuminating the forest in a haunting light. “Now,” Talia whispered and Asha nodded, forcing herself to be brave as she knelt between Anaïs legs. She could see her womanhood, the blood smeared on the insides of her thighs and the skins on which she lay.
“What are you doing?” Anaïs asked, sitting up.
Talia removed the pillows behind her back. “She has to reach into you, to get the child out safely.”
“What? NO!” Anaïs shook her head fervently. “She can’t, there is not the space…”
“The contractions have made space,” Talia said. “The child’s head is bigger than both her hands. It’ll be alright.”
Asha looked down at what was between her legs and thought, No, it is not alright, how can it be? But then she pushed forward, first with her right hand, pushing through and in. Anaïs screamed but Asha continued anyways. The insides were slippery, convulsing and moving and she was so horrified that all she could focus on was not throwing up and continuing upwards.
Then she felt it; something living and moving and frail. She almost screamed from disgust and surprise.
“Do you feel something?” Talia asked urgently.
Asha could barely speak. Her throat had closed together tightly. “A leg, I think.”
Anaïs was sobbing violently now. Talia went to her side and knelt down, removing the piece of wood from her mouth. “Anaïs,” she said with urgency in her voice, “you have a choice now. We can remove the child now and quickly, but it will die. Or we can attempt to turn it around and it might survive. It will take incredible strength from you, but it is a strength I know you possess. It is your choice.”
Anaïs looked uncertain. Her tears ran like floods down her cheeks and Asha made sure to stay entirely still to not cause more pain than necessary. “I want my child,” she whispered. “But I want it out.”
“What is your decision?”
She let out a small sob, almost like a hiccup. Then, she said, “Turn it. Make it live.”
“Lie back,” Talia said and put back the wood. “Asha, can you get another hand inside?”
Asha could feel Anaïs tense from the inside. She swallowed down the vomit that had escaped her throat and nodded. She ran her left hand down the length of her right arm and pressed them close together, thinking that might make it better.
As she pushed in, the walls around her seemed to let go, but to her surprise Anaïs did not scream. It was as though she met less resistance, and she thought that was worse than before.
Her second hand moved away from the other. She now had hold of the two legs. “Both legs,” she said, fighting the natural urge to throw up. “Holding them.”
“Good,” Talia said as she wiped away the sweat on Anaïs forehead. “You are both doing so good. Now try and see if you can turn it.”
Asha thought she might scream and she was already crying. Red stained her arms, the wrists that were buried inside of the woman, the hands grasping for the babe inside her. She reached, reached, and found what had to be the torso. When she felt something like a cord, warm and slick, she almost pulled out and very nearly vomited.
“I feel a cord,” she whimpered.
“Don’t worry. Try to keep it from wrapping around the baby’s neck, if you can. Can you do that?”
Asha clenched her teeth painfully and nodded, even though she could not. She simply could not. All she could think of was turning the child and getting out of this reeking room, to breathe and finally be able to get some sleep. She felt so tired, so tired, her body ached…
She found an arm and she pulled, tried to pull, and when she felt it turning, she almost laughed madly with happiness. Her hand reached for a shoulder and with a feeling of sudden ecstasy, she got it turned. Now, she could not help the laughter and the tears that fell.
“I’m doing it!” she breathed in disbelief. “It’s turning, it’s turning!"
If Talia said something, she did not hear it, because in the next moment, Anaïs was convulsing around her. Asha was so far away, her focus on one thing only, that she heard not the screams, felt not the pain of her arms being crushed.
She grasped for the hollow where arm linked with shoulder and pulled. She faintly heard the screams of Anaïs, but they did not register. She no longer saw or smelled or heard, only felt, and all she felt was the child and the slick wetness surrounding her hands.
Then the head reached the barrier of Anaïs’ exit. “Pull out your hands now,” Talia said. “Not the child, just your hands.”
Asha found it hard to let it go, but she did anyways. She pulled out her hands and was hit with the coldness of the room in comparison to the heat of blood. Suddenly, she was trembling all over, crying harder than she ever had.
“Push, Anaïs, push,” Talia urged and Anaïs was screaming and blood was everywhere. Someone found a bucket and placed it in Asha’s hands and then she heard the sound of her own vomit hitting its bottom.
“I see it,” a woman whispered as Anaïs screamed again.
And then, suddenly, in a matter of seconds, it was over.
“It’s a boy,” said Talia and smile.
Anaïs sat up. “He lives?”
Almost as an answer, the boy let out a long scream. Asha reached for him with shaking hands and took him in her arms. It seemed impossible that his boy, covered in blood but innocent nonetheless, was the creature she had touched earlier.
“He’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Talia took the boy from her and cut the cord of his navel before wrapping him in skins. He survived, Asha thought to herself, he survived, he survived.
She stood on shaky legs and walked out of the hut. The dark was complete now, with only the stars and the moon to light up the town. Still, everyone were awake, united around a great fire. “A boy,” she said for all to hear. “A boy.”
She nearly jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. It was one of the women. “Come,” she said, her voice strangely solemn. “You should see this.”
Inside the hut, everything had gone quiet. Anaïs sat with her child in her arms, but she was staring at Asha, just as Talia and the second woman were. They seemed apprehensive, tense, and Asha felt her heart pick up its pace.
“Has something happened?” she asked, filled with fear for the little child.
“Come,” Talia ordered quietly. Asha crossed the floor and kneeled beside the old woman, who reached for the boy. “Look,” she said and held him out.
The boy looked like his mother, with black hairs that contrasted pearly white skin. His lips were red like roses and his face a vision of almost unnatural prefecture – like the dolls that the young ladies and princesses in the north played with. Asha knew not what to look after… until he opened his eyes.
Instead of the blue of both his parents, the black pupil was surrounded by liquid gold, as though she was staring into the eyes of a jaguar. She had not seen such a pure gold before; not in her father or in herself, or in any jaguar.
“He’s…”
“Yes,” Talia said. She turned to Anaïs “He is what the prophecy spoke of; from a dark shadow, greatness will emerge. You have given birth to someone destined for greatness, and even more of it than you have achieved.”
“I will call him…” Anaïs frowned. “Aryavan.”
“Possessor of greatness,” Talia translated.
In the arms of the jakeen, the babe stretched innocently, fully and completely unaware of what awaited him.