The Gathering Night (47 page)

Before Thaw Moon rose from the dark the answer came by itself.

My uncle Hodei walked into River Mouth Camp at dusk. There was no wind; the sky was clear. We were sitting round the outside fire for the first evening that Year. It was good to have the open sky over our heads again, and not a smoky roof. Kemen had shot a swan from his boat that morning, and we were roasting it on a spit.

Itzal was the first to see Hodei. He leaped to his feet. ‘Uncle!' He ran to Hodei and gripped his hands. ‘What . . . How . . . ?' Itzal mastered his astonishment. Hodei was Go-Between, after all. Itzal stammered the proper greeting. ‘You are welcome to our hearth, Hodei. There is always food here for you!'

Only Nekané showed no surprise. The rest of us were as astounded as Itzal. No one crossed Long Strait in winter! Hodei's winter Camp was far away under the hills of Gathering Loch. But Go-Betweens can travel whenever and wherever they please, because their Helpers speak to the spirits and open the closed ways for them. Even the sea will do as they wish, if the spirits desire it.

Hodei held me by the elbows and looked into my eyes. ‘Is all well with you, Osané? Your mother sends you her greetings. This is a hard winter for her.'

I didn't answer that. I met my uncle's gaze boldly, and said, ‘Everything is very well with me. My son was born on the first night of Yellow Leaf Moon. His father recognised him.'

‘Yes,' said Hodei.

I realised as I spoke that Hodei knew already what I was going to say. ‘He is Basajaun.'

‘Yes,' Hodei said. ‘Perhaps when we sit by the fire you can show this new little one to his old uncle?'

I wasn't fooled by that sort of talk, but I led my uncle to the fire as if he were an old man and needed my arm to help him – this Go-Between who'd just crossed Long Strait in Swan Moon, and found his way across Mother Mountain Island to our River Mouth Camp, where, as far as I knew, he'd never been before! Not in his body, anyway. I helped him sit down upwind of the smoke. Nekané moved along to make room for him. ‘Well met, Hodei!' she said. ‘Perhaps these girls of mine will give you a bit of this swan that's roasting here. You see how poorly we live when we're alone! I should have taught my daughters how to feed this family better. Now I'm no use to anyone – I'm just a poor old woman, as you know – we have to rely on these young ones. So we may have to starve together, you and I.'

While Nekané was talking, Alaia took the swan off the spit. Soon the steaming meat was piled on the hearthstones. Alaia handed a choice bit to Hodei, and then everyone leaned in and took their share.

We all wanted to know why Hodei had come, but even the children knew better than to ask a guest questions until he'd eaten his fill. And this guest was Go-Between – you can't ask a Go-Between questions anyway. Hodei seemed content with us all, so it didn't look as if any of us need worry. He'd spoken kindly about my little son even before he sat down – he wouldn't have done that if he'd come because of Basajaun. I felt no fear. I looked up at the sky, my heart filled with thanks, as I chewed the meat off my swan-bone. The night was clear as spring-water, the stars strung together like drops of dew on huge cobwebs strung across the sky. Star-webs hung from spiky branches. Under the Sunless Sky green spirit-lights rose and fell like saplings moving in a far-off wind. The night smelt of damp earth where snow had lain. No one spoke while we ate. Beyond the crackle of the fire the swollen River sang of snow melting in the hills. Amets threw more wood on the fire. Flames leaped hungrily. Light flowed over the tree trunks so they shone like shadows of the spirit-lights above.

Hodei was here. He was Go-Between, but he was also my uncle, and his presence here was kind. Tonight even the far-off Stars were kind. I found myself thinking about Kemen's secret fear. I considered the strange arrival of my uncle. I looked at these two things together in the clear light of the Stars, and I saw what I should do.

Hodei said:

I travelled far in the worst of winter to speak to Nekané. The news I brought was no secret, so when her family had given me food I told them all what had happened. I didn't tell them why I'd set out at once for Mother Mountain Island. No one asked.

When I'd eaten I looked up at the wintry stars. I said, ‘How close the stars are tonight! See how they cluster round our fire! Those Stars know what I've come to say to you. The spirits of the sky are joyful because one of their own has come back to them. For a little while at least, they have him back.

‘Nekané, you know what I'm about to say. As he lay dying I saw your Helpers watching from the smoke under the roof. I saw the Swan's wing spread over him to protect him. A shaft of sunlight pierced through the smoke-hole. Through it I saw the curve of the Dolphin's back through the wreathing smoke.'

Nekané said, ‘At first I was more afraid of him than I ever was of you or Aitor. In the end I loved him well. He taught me spirit-ways. He spoke harshly but in his heart he was kind. He held nothing back. Whatever the spirits gave him, he was willing to give again.'

‘He gave himself,' I said. ‘Over and over again he gave himself for the Auk People.'

My niece knew who we were talking about. ‘Is he dead?' A sob caught in her throat. ‘He saved my life, when he fetched Nekané to me long ago. You're not saying he's dead?'

Esti whispered to her mother. I raised my voice in lament before Alaia could whisper back. ‘One of the Go-Betweens of the Auk People died with the Year that's gone. He died when Swan Moon went into the dark. The greatest of our Go-Betweens is gone from us!'

One by one they joined my chant. We sang for him, just as we'd sung in his own winter Camp above Gathering Loch. The Stars hovered above the bare trees. The spirit-lights heard our song. They filled the sky with white-green Rivers. They flowed from the Sunless Sky to the River of Milk. High over our heads they made a song of their own out of colours. Red spirit-fire flamed above our little People-fire on earth. The spirit-lights took our lament and filled the sky with our song. The Stars remembered him. His name was among them. They kept his name alive while it ceased to live among the Auk People.

At last our song ended. Amets fetched a bearskin from the winter house and threw it over the sleeping children where they lay by the fire. The women piled on more logs.

‘Hodei,' Amets said when he'd sat down again. ‘Nekané may know everything, but you have plain men like me to deal with in this family too. Tell us what happened! How did he die?'

That was a question I could answer. I told them how Zigor had gone to hunt geese. He'd left before dawn, and crept out with the tide. He'd hidden in a frozen channel in the marsh and waited for the geese to come grazing as the tide drove them in. He'd lain in the frozen creek for a long while. Nothing new in that – but Zigor was an old man. Older than he thought, perhaps. When he got back to his winter Camp he was soaked to the skin, and chilled through. A Go-Between has enemies as well as Helpers. A fierce fever-spirit seized the chance to enter him while he was weak. It burned in his veins. Zigor was old but he was strong. For four days he fought that spirit. He spoke to that spirit aloud, so everyone could hear. On the second day Zorioné grew so frightened by the spirit-battle being fought inside her house that she sent her man to fetch me from my winter Camp beyond Gathering Loch. I arrived on the fourth day. I could see how Zigor's strength was ebbing with the tide.

I followed Zigor into the spirit-world. He was aware of me and spoke to me. I didn't tell the family at River Mouth Camp what he'd said. I said to them, ‘I was able to travel with that great Go-Between a little way on his journey out of the world. I went with him as far as I could. I spoke his name. Then I left him and came back to this world. His soul was slowly leaving his body. His skin stretched over his skull, so thin the bones of his face seemed bare already. Harsh breaths filled the winter house. Zorioné took his hand as soon as I let go of it. She wept silently. The children sobbed aloud. As night fell, the harsh breaths stopped at last. I looked up through the smoke hole. I saw that great Go-Between's Helpers lean down. I saw them lift his soul. I saw his soul rise up through the smoke hole and fly into the dark.'

I was not the only one who wept for Zigor at River Mouth Camp that night. We sang many songs for him.

The next morning my niece asked to speak to me privately. She led me up the Look-out Hill behind River Mouth Camp. As I followed her I felt the spirits of River Mouth clustering round me. I spoke to them without words. They welcomed me, although I'd never stood on Look-out Hill before. I was interested to see how Auk lands lay from this new viewpoint. Basajaun slept under Osané's wolfskin tunic, snug against her warm back. Osané looked out over the salt flats towards Sand Island. I followed her gaze. People often find it easier to speak without looking at each other. I waited until she was ready.

‘Uncle, I need your advice. Maybe your help.'

I'd failed to help Osané in the past. I thought she might hate me for that. I was happy to find she still trusted me. ‘This is about Basajaun,' I stated.

‘Yes. No. I think so.'

I waited.

‘I was so relieved when Kemen named Basajaun. 'Osané gazed out to sea. The wind blew her hair across her face and she brushed it away. ‘I didn't recognise him. No one did. Kemen wasn't there. They'd gone to hunt seals. Then he came back. He recognised Basajaun.' Osané glanced at me sideways, then looked away. ‘I was glad because it meant my son could live. Only later . . .'

‘Later?'

‘Kemen was worrying.' Osané brushed her hair out of her eyes again, and faced the wind. ‘I could tell. I knew it was about Basajaun. I made him tell me . . .'

‘Yes?'

‘He promised . . . I didn't know . . . Kemen promised Zi . . . him that's gone. When they wrote Auk on his back, he – the Go-Between that's gone – he said to him – he said, “The names of the Lynx People will live among the Auk People. And nowhere else.”' Osané shot another glance at me. ‘Kemen hadn't told me that before. But that's what he promised the Go-Between: “
and nowhere else”
.'

So Osané knew already why I'd come. I hadn't even spoken to Nekané yet. ‘Are you telling me that Kemen hasn't kept that promise, Osané?' I asked aloud.

‘I don't know! Don't you see, Uncle, that's just it! How can I know? How can Kemen know? He didn't even think of it when Zi . . . when the Go-Between spoke to him. He couldn't! Only later . . . and then he forgot. I think he wanted to forget. But then Basajaun came, and that made him start worrying about it all over again.'

‘Worrying about
what
, Osané?'

‘The other cousin.' Osané met my eyes and gave me a level look. ‘Don't tell me you've never thought about it, Hodei. Four of them came from under the Morning Sun Sky. One cousin stayed among the Heron People. He took a woman there the very night they arrived. Seven Years have passed since then. Who knows whether Lynx names now live among the Heron People?

‘Kemen promised the Go-Between something he couldn't do. That's why he thinks the Auk spirits are angry with him. He's afraid they'll punish him. He's afraid they'll take our son away. That's why he wanted to go back to the Heron People and find out.

‘I said – down there on the salt flats, I said to him – “Kemen, you're mad. Suppose your cousin does have children with Lynx names, what are you going to do about it? Kill them? Steal them away and make them into Auks? Run away? If you did any of those cowardly things you'd make the spirits far angrier with you than they can possibly be now. The spirits know you were forced to make a promise no man could keep. They might forgive you that. They won't forgive you if you kill or steal from your own kin!”

‘Kemen said, “Of course I'm not going to kill or steal! But if I went to find my cousin, at least I'd know the truth!” “You'd know nothing at all,” I told him, “because, for all you know, hands-full and hands-full of Lynx names may be alive today, hunting in lands you've never even heard of. That thought should make you glad! Just because you had to make a stupid promise that no one could possibly keep, you're hoping that all your kin are dead for ever! Can that be right? Of course not! No good spirit would love you for wishing that! It was a bad promise you made. The best thing you can do is forget all about it. Everyone else has!”

‘“Including all the spirits who heard me make that promise?” was all Kemen would say.

‘“The spirits couldn't have meant you to keep a promise as stupid as that!” I protested.

‘“No, but you don't understand! You can't see a meaning in it, and I can't either. But there has to be one! The Go-Between said it – he must have had a good reason, even if we can't see it.”

‘He can't forget about it, Uncle. And now I worry about it too. Are the spirits angry with us after all? Did the Go-Between that's gone mean something important that we can't understand? Hodei, will you help us? Please, Uncle, could you ask the spirits not to hurt Basajaun?'

‘Have you spoken to Nekané about this?' I asked her.

‘Kemen made me promise not to.'

‘But you didn't promise not to speak to me? Is that it?'