Ivory Carver 02 - My Sister the Moon (22 page)

"This, too, she does," he said, speaking in the First Men tongue, directing his words to the two old women, then speaking again to the Walrus People in their language. "Did she tell you she carved this from a whale's tooth?" 

Kiin noticed the sudden light that came into the Raven's dark eyes and even Woman of the Sun looked surprised. She whispered for a moment to her sister then walked forward to take the shell from Qakan's hands. 

She turned it carefully then looked at Kiin. "You carved this?" she asked. 

"It is n-nothing. It does n-n-not even look like a sh-shell," Kiin answered, feeling embarrassed that Woman of the Sun should look carefully at her poor work. In her mind she saw the baskets that held her father's carvings, misshapen seals, puffins, too short or too long, animals that looked as though 

some child had formed them, and she remembered that when she was younger, she had dreams in which all animals were as her father carved them, limping and deformed. She looked again at her shell, at the uneven whorls, the long ridge that marred one side. "I carved it," she said. 

"You have a gift," Woman of the Sun said. 

"No," Kiin answered. She shook her head. "I s-see here what it sh-should be," she said and pointed to that place in her head, just behind her eyes, where images and dreams seemed to gather. "But-but I cannot make wh-what I see. It d-does not come out right. But my songs . . . they are . . . what they should be." 

But Woman of the Sun held Kiin's shell up for all to see, and for a horrible moment, Kiin thought she would trade the shell, take that small bit of power that Kiin still owned, but then the old woman handed the shell back to Kiin and at the same time, Ice Hunter called to someone in the crowd, and one of his sons, the man with the scar, carried something draped in a caribou hide to the center of the circle. Ice Hunter waited a moment until the people were quiet then slipped off the hide. 

Kiin's eyes widened. Under the skin was a large face. Carved from wood, it was nearly as tall as a man and brightly painted in reds and blues. The eyes were drawn down at the outside corners, blue tears dripping from them to the chin. But the mouth was open in a wide grin that showed sharp white seal teeth embedded in the wood. 

Ice Hunter spoke, and Qakan turned to Kiin, saying, "He tells us it was won in a raid from the Dancing Tribes that live over the mountains and many days to the south. It carries their tribe's power to bring animals before a hunt." 

Then the Raven spoke, and Kiin recognized the challenge in his words even though she did not know what he said. He clapped his hands, and Qakan gasped. The woman with the yellow-streaked hair stepped forward and stood beside the Raven's pile of trade goods. 

At a command from the Raven, she took off her suk and dropped her leggings, standing with only aprons, front and 
back. From behind, the Raven leaned forward and cut the waist string of her aprons, letting them fall to the floor. The men in the ulaq grew loud, laughing and talking, and Qakan giggled, but the woman held her head high. She looked at Qakan and slowly licked her lips, then she raised her arms above her head and turned, swaying her hips. Her skin was greased and it glowed in the lamp light. 

The Raven laughed, but he reached for her suk, tossing it to her. She slipped it on and sat down beside the trade goods barelegged. 

"I have chosen your husband," Qakan suddenly said in a loud voice, but as he spoke, Woman of the Sun came forward. She stood before Qakan, and the people were suddenly silent. Even the golden-haired girl lowered her eyes. 

"It is not your choice," Woman of the Sun said to Qakan in the First Men's tongue. "Your sister is not a slave, so it is her choice. In our tribe the woman decides. You choose two. Then she takes the one she wants." 

Qakan's mouth dropped open, and he looked at Kiin. His eyes darkened, and he said, "You told them about the curse." 

Kiin shook her head. "Sh-she knew. I d-did not need to t-tell her. She is a . . . d-dreamer of visions. I told them only that I was your s-sister." 

"You are an ignorant woman," he said, his voice rising to a high squeal. 

Then Woman of the Sun, her words hard and full of power, said, "Make your choice. Choose two." 

Qakan drew back his lips in a smile that showed gritted teeth and pointed to Ice Hunter and the Raven. 

The old man shrugged and smiled, but Kiin felt a hurting at the disappointment in the young man's eyes. 

"Now you must choose," Woman of the Sun said to Kiin. 

Kiin looked at Qakan and he whispered, "If you choose Raven, I will give you one of the fox skins for your baby." 

But Kiin did not look at the trade goods. Instead, she looked into the Raven's dark face, into Ice Hunter's clear eyes. 

She took a step toward Ice Hunter, but then heard her spirit say, "He is a good man. What if the old women are wrong? 

What if he cannot withstand your curse? He has offered the wooden face, perhaps it holds his power." 

Kiin looked at the man and allowed her sorrow to flow out from her eyes, for she wanted him to know he was her true choice. Then she turned to the Raven. "This man," she said pointing to him, and heard Qakan's choking gasp, the low laugh of the golden-hair. 

The Raven smiled, his lips drawn out in a square that showed all his teeth, then he stood and shoved the golden-haired woman into Qakan's lap. Qakan laughed out loud, but pushed the woman from his lap and crawled to the pile of trade goods, now his. He pulled out a fox fur and tossed it to Kiin, saying, "You chose well." 

But Woman of the Sky stepped forward and said to him, "Give her two fox furs." 

Qakan looked at her, surprise showing in his face, but he giggled and pulled out another pelt and threw it to Kiin. 

Kiin draped the furs over her arm. The Raven was staring at her, his head tilted back, thin lips curled in a smile. Kiin stood straight, eyes unblinking. 

No one heard her spirit's mourning cries. 

KIIN FOLLOWED THE RAVEN FROM THE LONG house at the center of the Walrus People's village to a ulaq set closer to the hills. She had noticed the ulaq before. It was large and, unlike most of the Walrus People ulas, had a sod roof. The Raven, then, was the one who lived in this place, he and his two wives, though now perhaps the yellow-haired one was no longer his wife. How could she be? She belonged to Qakan. 

And so if the Raven were powerful enough to have such a fine dwelling, was he indeed a shaman? Something inside Kiin began to quiver. There had never been a shaman in their village, but she had heard stories of their power to control spirits. And it seemed, at least in the stories, that most shamans eventually used that power for evil. What had Kayugh said? That a man cannot hold that much power. It creeps into his spirit, steals his soul. 

The Raven' pushed Kiin ahead of him into an entrance at the side of the ulaq. The entrance was a small tunnel woven of willow branches and covered with grass mats. It slanted down into the ulaq and was so low that Kiin had to crawl on hands and knees to get through it. When she and the Raven emerged from the tunnel, a man greeted them. 

The Raven said something in the Walrus tongue, and Kiin, unsure how she should greet the man, nodded, and since the man was old, his face lined, his dark hair full of gray, she lowered her eyes in respect. 

The ulaq smelled rank, as though it were filled with rotten meat, but all things looked neat; the mats on the floor were new, the storage containers that hung from the walls, dry and strong. 

Two women were crouched on the far side of the ulaq, one woman combing the other's hair. The Raven grunted at the two and rudely pointed. But the women seemed to find no insult in his pointing, and they greeted Kiin. One offered Kiin a length of dried meat, and the other held up a basket of bitterroot bulbs. But the Raven gestured impatiently at them and pushed Kiin through the walrus hide curtains that partitioned the ulaq. 

On the Raven's side of the curtains, a large oil lamp hollowed from the top of a boulder was in the center of the room. The only sleeping place Kiin saw was a raised platform cushioned with skins and furs. The stink was even stronger here; the floor was littered with scraps of rotted meat, bones and molded bits of food. 

A women—young, though not as young as Kiin—came forward and offered the Raven food. He slapped her hands 
away and said something to her in the Walrus tongue. 

A sly look of joy came into the woman's eyes, and she picked up a large basket and began to cram it with pelts from the sleeping platform. 

The Raven waited until the woman had finished then spoke to Kiin, but Kiin shook her head and shrugged. How could he expect her to understand the Walrus tongue? She had been in his village only two days. 

The Raven wrinkled his nose, curled his mouth and said something to the woman. She glanced at Kiin, then left the ulaq. The Raven went to a storage skin and pulled out a handful of meat. He squatted on his haunches and ate but offered nothing to Kiin. 

Kiin felt a small bubbling movement within her belly and wondered if her babies felt as uncomfortable here as she did. Finally, she sat down, She was wife and so must be ready to make her husband comfortable, to bring water, prepare food, but she had stood for a long time that morning. She might as well be comfortable herself. 

Soon the Raven's other wife returned. Woman of the Sky was with her. Kiin felt some lifting of her heart when she saw the old woman, but Woman of the Sky did not speak to Kiin. Instead, turning her attention to the Raven, she said something in the Walrus tongue and then listened as the Raven spoke to her. 

Finally Woman of the Sky turned and spoke to Kiin, and though the old woman did not smile, Kiin saw the light of a smile in her eyes. 

"Raven wants you to know that you are his wife now," she began. 

"Yes," Kiin said. 

"This other woman is called Lemming Tail. She is now his first wife and you must do what she says. First of all, she will teach you to speak the Walrus tongue. Raven says you must learn quickly. 

"Yellow-hair, the one your brother bought, she was once first wife. Now Lemming Tail gathers Yellow-hair's things to take to her. Do you have any questions?" 

"The old man we saw when we came into the ulaq. Who is he?" 

"Grass Ears," Woman of the Sky said. "He is Raven's uncle. He has two wives. His daughters are grown. Raven is more like a son than a nephew, at least in the honor Grass Ears gives him. But Raven gives little in return." 

Again the quivering came into Kiin's spirit. A man who did not honor his uncle—how would he treat his wives? 

And as though she read Kiin's thoughts, Woman of the Sky said, "You should have chosen Ice Hunter." 

"Yes," echoed Kiin's spirit, "Woman of the Sky told you that Ice Hunter was strong enough to be your husband. You should have chosen him." 

But then Kiin thought, What mother does not see her son as being stronger, wiser, greater than he truly is? I have chosen. I will not fill my mind with thoughts of what could have been. 

"I could not choose him," Kiin said, but did not look into Woman of the Sky's eyes as she spoke. "He is a good man. I could not take the chance I would curse him." 

Woman of the Sky nodded. There was sadness in her eyes, but no anger. She turned and spoke for a time to Lemming Tail. Kiin saw a sullenness in Lemming Tail's face, the look that Qakan wore when he was forced to do something he did not want to do. Finally the Raven spoke, interrupting Woman of the Sky, but the old woman continued to speak to Lemming Tail, as though the Raven's words were nothing more than the wind. Even when she finished speaking to his wife, Woman of the Sky did not answer the Raven, but instead said to Kiin, "If you need me I will come, or my sister." 

She left the ulaq and the Raven spoke to Lemming Tail, his words hard. 

She said something to the Raven, anger in her voice, and the Raven slapped her. He took Yellow-hair's basket and left the ulaq, left Kiin alone with Lemming Tail. 

Then some spirit seemed to whisper to Kiin: "So, you have two small fox furs, your suk, the necklace that Samiq made, the carving from Chagak and a whale tooth shell. No 
woman's knife, no needles or scraping tools, no pounding stone, no chunks of sinew or sealskins." 

"But I have two babies," Kiin answered, speaking out loud. And her words were brave, her voice strong, without stuttering. 

When Kiin spoke, Lemming Tail raised her eyebrows, then she began to laugh. Kiin did not like her laughter. It was too much like Qakan's laughter, like the laughter her father used when he ridiculed her. But then Kiin's spirit whispered, "You have traveled from one end of the earth to the other, a journey most hunters never make; you have danced with Walrus men, and are loved by a man who is now a Whale Hunter. What is a little laughter?" 

Lemming Tail reached out and touched Kiin's suk, then she fingered Samiq's necklace, but Kiin pushed the woman's hands away. Again the woman laughed, and the laugh, high and screeching, made Kiin's skin pull up in tiny shivering bumps. But then Kiin, too, began to laugh. She laughed as she looked at the filth on the floor, at the tumbled pile of baskets heaped in a corner, the torn walrus hide curtain that hung over the food cache, and in rudeness, she pointed. In rudeness, she laughed. 

Lemming Tail's lips curled, and she hissed angry words. Then she dug into a pile of half-finished baskets, threw one to Kiin. 

Kiin took the basket to a place near the oil lamp; she waited, sure Lemming Tail would give her grass for weaving and a water skin, but Lemming Tail went over to the sleeping platform and lay down, curling herself under the furs with her back toward Kiin. 

For a time Kiin watched and waited, but finally she put the basket down and began to straighten the room. Hides had not been kept dry, and floor mats had begun to mold. The whole ulaq carried their smell. She wished for Kayugh's clean, well-kept ulaq. Even her father's ulaq was clean, the floors padded with heather and new mats, bones collected and thrown out or saved for carving. 

When Kiin had picked up the bones and food scraps on the 
floor and replaced the worst mats with several she found in a pile beside the food cache, she gathered the debris and carried it outside, far from the ulas to a place where the wind would carry the smell away from the village. 

Fireweed, tall and glowing, grew at the edge of the village. Kiin twisted the tough stems until they broke and she had six pink flower heads in her hands. They were old, beginning to go to fluff, but the blossoms were still sweet, perhaps something that would help the stink of her husband's ulaq. 

She returned to the ulaq, again politely refused the food Grass Ear's wives offered her, smiling at them this time. Their hair, though cut bluntly to shoulder length, was dark and shining, and they were so much alike in looks, with long narrow faces, slanted eyes and wide mouths that Kiin knew they must be sisters. 

When she came back into the Raven's room, she noticed that Lemming Tail was breathing the long, quiet breaths of one who slept, so Kiin worked quickly to scatter the fireweed she had picked, then began to straighten the basket comer, sorting baskets according to size and shape, piling them so they could be used. Three were full of something that had once perhaps been food and were good for nothing now but to be thrown away. These she stacked beside the dividing curtain and continued to work until she had another pile of refuse: molded skins, old baskets, a water bladder full of holes. Again she gathered the load and took it outside, again she returned to the ulaq to find Lemming Tail asleep. 

Kiin wished she could go through the food storage cache as well, but as second wife, she had no right, and so finally returned to the basket Lemming Tail had given her. Kiin had found a bundle of ryegrass laying against the ulaq wall. She took a clay-lined basket that she hoped would be water-tight and poured it full of water from a walrus bladder that hung on the wall. The water was tepid and had a brackish smell, but she dipped her hands into it and ran her wet fingers over several blades of grass. 

A song began like a thin thread in her mind, words that spoke of the sea, of the ice and the blue men that lived in 
the ice. She sang as she split grass into fine strands with her thumbnail and twisted it into a coil. 

But as she sang, worried thoughts, like wisps of smoke, curled into Kiin's words. The Raven was her husband now. He would expect her in his bed that night. 

"You have had men you did not want in your sleeping place before," her spirit whispered. "At least the Raven is your husband. Do not forget that you are as strong as he is." 

But Kiin knew her spirit spoke only to comfort her and was not telling the truth. The Raven was strong, strong enough to own two wives, to trade for another. Strong enough to stand against the curse that Kiin carried. 

She worked until some prodding of her spirit made her look at the sleeping platform. Lemming Tail was sitting up, her ears covered with her hands. But singing was one thing Kiin knew she did well, so she allowed herself to smile at Lemming Tail, allowed herself to smile in the way a woman smiles at a bothersome child. 

There was a noise on the other side of the curtain and suddenly, so suddenly that even Lemming Tail looked startled, the curtain was drawn back, and Kiin saw that many women, perhaps all the women of the village stood in the Raven's ulaq. 

Kiin stopped singing and put down her basket. She stood, and when she stood, Woman of the Sky came forward and said to her, "They come bringing gifts to Raven's new wife." 

Then each woman came, first Woman of the Sky, then Woman of the Sun. They each brought a basket of herbs and laid them before her, then Woman of the Sun took a place beside Kiin and as each woman came. Woman of the Sun leaned forward to whisper in Kiin's ear, saying names and telling Kiin the Walrus People words for each object as the women brought everything a wife needs: needles, awls, rolls of babiche and chunks of sinew for sewing; sleeping mats and furs; grinding and cooking stones; baskets and containers for oil; storage containers for meat; fish gorges and a digging stick. 

The women laughed and joked, and only Lemming Tail and Yellow-hair seemed sullen. Kiin was included in the laughter because Woman of the Sun or Woman of the Sky explained what the others said, so that soon Kiin learned many words in the Walrus language. 

And once when one of Grass Ear's wives said how fortunate Kiin was to be wife to Raven, Woman of the Sun, after telling Kiin what the woman had said, eased Kiin's fears by whispering, "No one will dare treat you like a slave. And you will even have many months before Raven will take you to his bed. No Walrus man will enter a woman who is pregnant. She would curse his hunting." 

So Kiin pulled these words close inside her chest and found herself smiling more easily, laughing more quickly. 

Yellow-hair, on her turn to give a gift, held closed hands out to Kiin and when Kiin cupped her own hands under Yellow-hair's, Yellow-hair opened her fingers to show she would give nothing. Even then, Kiin laughed, laughed so hard that the other women, standing with faces red at Yellow-hair's rudeness, began to laugh as well until Yellow-hair, blushing, pushed her way through the women and sat down, knees drawn up to her chin, on the sleeping platform. Then Kiin saw Lemming Tail go quickly to a basket in the corner of the ulaq, and when she gave Kiin a gift, it was a crooked knife, something quite beautiful, the blade a thin slice of chert inserted in the side of a caribou rib, and Woman of the Sun told Kiin that the rib had been given in trade from the Caribou People, who lived far to the east where ice marked the edge of the world. 

Kiin smoothed her hand over the rib and thanked Lemming Tail, Kiin hoping that perhaps this gift would mark the beginning of a friendship, but as Lemming Tail turned away, Kiin saw a look of mockery pass between Lemming Tail and Yellow-hair, and so Kiin knew the gift was not a gift of the heart. 

When the women left, the Raven returned to the ulaq. Kiin was at the back of the large main room finishing the grass 
basket. The Raven sat down on a floor mat, leaned back against a pile of furs, and watched her through the narrow slits of his eyes. The man was so still that at times Kiin thought he was asleep, but if she reached to dip her hand into the water basket, she could see the gleam of his eyes following her, and his gaze seemed to weaken her fingers, making them shake as she worked. She tried to calm herself by repeating the new words she had learned that day, but the dread again seeped into her chest and grew so large that it pushed against her heart, making it skip and tremble.