Two Rivers (20 page)

“Yes.” He nodded and began to get up.

“Come here just before sunset. I may need to talk in more
privacy than our longhouses or the town’s alleys provide.”

The youth nodded again. “I’ll come back,” he said, disappearing
back in the direction of the town’s fence.

A wolf cub, reflected Two Rivers, but maybe not such a cub
anymore. He glanced at the sky, seeking the still-invisible stars.

Why him?
he asked the puffy clouds.
Why send this
wild thing to come all the way from across the Great Lake in order to take a
part in the unclear, tortuous game of spirits and prophecies?

Think, he ordered himself. Start from the beginning. The
prophecy, the wild dreams his mother was having when still carrying him inside
her, conceived most mysteriously. What did it say? Nothing in particular,
unless he was not told all of it. He was destined to be a great man, to save
his people,
or some people
, and make their lives better. How?

He peered at the sky, but the clouds ran rapidly across the
bright vastness, as though in a hurry to get away, indifferent to his dilemmas.

And it was not that he didn’t know what should have been done
in order to better his people’s circumstances, to save them, indeed, from a
total destruction. The constant warfare was a horrible mistake. He had sensed
it all along, with every fiber of his being, but it took him time to
understand, to formulate it in his head. Too much time. He had seen more than
thirty summers, and only now did he understand. And thanks to none other than
the young cub.

He shook his head, grinning, remembering their journey, the
days spent away from the town and its politics, away from the people he knew,
traveling leisurely, tracking the bear, enjoying the rare sensation of peace
and quiet. And of not being threatened. Around his country folk, he realized,
he always felt alerted, on the defensive, ready to face their suspicious
glances, ready to brush off their reprimands, their open critique, fight off
their attacks.

However, with the boy it was different. The wild cub had more
depth than he cared to display, and his life circumstances exposed him to more
than a person twice his age should have seen. It made him more observant, less
subjected to the convention, to the acceptable beliefs. To guide and teach him
was a pleasure, but to air one’s thoughts aloud with no need to be on guard was
a true gift. What needed to be said was uttered, even if in the privacy of the
woods with only one person to listen.

He peered at the distant shore, trying to keep his excitement
at bay, for now, he knew what should have been done. The constant warfare would
have to be stopped, any further warfare prevented. Councils of all towns and
settlements should be called, in order to unite the people, eventually, to summon
the councils of the other nations. To talk about the terms and to negotiate
peace.

A difficult, seemingly impossible task, but one that needed to,
at least, be attempted. With the cooperation of people and the help of the
Right-Handed Twin, he may succeed in finding acceptable solutions to all sorts
of problems that would, undoubtedly, arise. But then…

He clenched his teeth against his bubbling excitement. His
people, never willing to listen to him in the first place, were now less likely
to trust anything he said. And then there was this dream. The test of the falls
was the way to make the foreign people listen, he suddenly realized. It was the
means to draw their attention, to convince them of his sincerity and maybe even
the particular blessing of the Great Spirits. Them, the foreigners from across
the Great Sparkling Water, the enemies of his people. If he managed the test of
the falls, they would listen.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of his
heart. It was impossible, plain impossible, and yet the dream that had plagued
him over the long summers, finally made itself clear, and through the wild cub,
of all people.

To take his canoe and sail for Little Falls, this large,
influential town? What an absurd idea, and yet, with the boy, who would be only
too happy to leave, it may work. It was worth a try. At home he had nothing now
but hatred and mistrust.

A distant thundering growled, but the sky was still clear, the
sun still stuck well away from the foamy water. He stared at it, willing it to
move slower now. Whatever he decided, it would have to happen before the
sunset.

Chapter 17

The growling of the distant thunder made Tekeni look up as he
stood leaning against the fence, staring into the corridor between the two rows
of palisade, pondering his possibilities.

To go back to the town seemed like a sensible solution. He was
hungry and tired, and even though ordered to wait for the summons of the Town
Council, not allowed as much as to look at the direction of the Beaver Clan people
or their longhouses, he wasn’t formally accused of any particular crime. He
could go to his clan’s longhouse and catch up on some sleep, couldn’t he?

He measured the sun once again, undecided. It was still a long
way until sunset, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to come back as Two Rivers had
told him to do. The man was too strange, too unsettling at times. One moment
talking normally, like any other person, better than most, wise, perceptive,
uncomfortably honest, slightly amused but never in an offensive way. Then all
of sudden changed, staring at him, Tekeni, as though he had been an
uki
,
asking him to do most unordinary things, plaguing him with questions and
requests that made no sense.

Why would he want to know anything about Little Falls or to hear
the sound of its people’s tongue? Was he thinking of organizing an invasion to
the farthest of their enemies’ lands, to make up for all the past sins? With
the mysterious man, one never knew.

The drums rolled on, interrupting another thundering, announcing
the renewal of the ceremonies. He thought about Seketa dancing, his stomach
twisting. She was so gracious, so alluring, so beautiful, especially when
dancing. Even this morning, when it had been nothing but very solemn ceremonial
dances and she looked sad, pale and tired, lacking her usual enticing spark,
even then, he could not tear his eyes off her, the memory of last night and
their kisses making his knees tremble.

What did she think about what happened? The knot in his stomach
kept tightening. Did she think him again to be just a wild boy who could not
control his temper? Did she think he should have gone away quietly, with no
fuss?

He ground his teeth. Yes, that’s what she must have been
thinking now, angry with him, disappointed most thoroughly. A hopeless hothead
with no finesse, a wild boy, a savage.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles seemed to crack. Yes,
he behaved most stupidly, throwing this bowl at Yeentso like an angry child.
But it hit its target all right, spot on the temple, making the disgusting man
sway and almost fall. Had the bowl been a little heavier, made out of pottery
and not wood, the damn bastard might have lost his consciousness once again.
He, Tekeni, could throw stones better than any other boy he had grown up with,
using both his hands equally well.

The light footsteps made his heart leap with fright, and then
with anticipation. Those did not belong to a man, and they were lonely, not
accompanied by more rustling. Still, he took a step back, to take cover behind
one of the poles, just in case.

“I knew you would be here!”

Not fooled by his semi-hidden location, she came closer, her
face lovely, glittering with sweat, cheeks burning, chest rising and falling
rapidly.

“Are you all right?” he asked, coming out and eyeing her
warily, looking for signs of her being angry.

“Yes, yes, I was just in a hurry. I ran all the way. I hoped
you were here and not in your longhouse.” Her eyebrows climbed up suggestively,
in mocking reproach. “Although the elders directed you most clearly to go to your
longhouse and wait for their summons there.”

“They just didn’t want me to come anywhere near your clan’s
people, that’s all,” he said, suppressing a smile, ridiculously relieved, but
annoyed by it. He looked at her searchingly. “You agree with them, don’t you?
You think like the rest of them, that it was my fault again.”

She returned his gaze. “Do you really care to hear what I
think?”

No, I don’t!
he was about to toss back, but the sight of
her exquisite face made the words stick. She came here, running all the way,
looking for him, anxious to see him. Even if she had been angry with him, she
was not aloof or indifferent. She cared for him, and her kisses were wonderful,
making his heart race.

“Yes, I do want to hear what you think,” he said, forcing his
face into stillness.

Her smile was wonderful in its suddenness, like a sun peeking
through the rainy clouds.

“Oh, if that is so, then I will tell you. This dirty son of a
forest rat Yeentso proved once again how incredibly stupid he is, and how
jealousy filled, and how afraid. Afraid of a youth who is already twice as
strong, with more courage than he would ever dream to have. And the other
people were stupid and afraid. And I was stupid and afraid, too. I should have
said something. Maybe it would have brought people to their senses. Two Rivers
was decent and courageous, but he always does it to people, now more than ever.
No one wants to listen to him, so his intervention didn’t help.” Breathless,
she paused, beaming at him, her eyes large and shining, happy with the effect.
“I promise to be more courageous next time. I promise to interfere and to tell
them what I think. To be on your side.”

He stared at her, speechless. “Will you… will you do that?”

“Of course. I won’t be so cowardly next time.”

“You are not a coward. You interfered, back at the War Dance.
Remember?” He grinned at the memory. “You made the Turtle Clan Mothers angry.”

She giggled. “Oh, yes. I remember. It was scary.”

“But you did it. For me.” He shrugged, desperate to conceal his
growing embarrassment. “Even Two Rivers commented on your courage. He said you
are smart and courageous.”

Her cheeks took yet a darker shade as she frowned, half amused,
half put out. “Have you been gossiping about me?”

“No, of course not.” He felt his own cheeks beginning to burn.
“But Two Rivers said something like that once. He talks a lot, about many
things.”

“Oh, that he does,” she laughed and then frowned again. “So
where is he? I thought you two may be together now. You know, talking.”

The way she dropped her gaze made him angry again. She surely
didn’t think…

“Yes, we talked for some time. But one can’t talk until the sun
comes down.”

“So he is out there, somewhere?” she asked, seemingly
disappointed.

“Yes, he is always out there, on that cluster of rocks facing
the lake. You can find him there if you want to.”

She frowned at his tone. “Why would I want to look for him?”

Feeling ridiculous, but more furious with every passing moment,
he kicked at a small stone, watching it rolling down the path. “I don’t know.
You asked where he was.”

“I didn’t ask where he was. I just asked if he is out there.
And if you won’t stop being angry for no reason, I will leave.”

A silence prevailed, interrupted by another distant growling. A
fresh gust of wind brought the smell of the nearing rain.

“I’m not angry,” he said, glancing at the still glowing sun. “I
just don’t want you to think silly things.”

“Like what?”

“Like, you know, the stupid things, like Yeentso said,” he
muttered, studying the remnants of the ornaments upon his worn-out moccasins.

“Oh, that! How silly you are. Of course, I didn’t think he
meant what he said. No one thinks that, not about Two Rivers, for sure. This
man behaved loosely with more women than you can count. He has this reputation.
He should have settled with a woman, any woman, long ago, but he has not. He
prefers to behave like a decent man should not, to have his pleasure, and this
is one more thing that will be held against him when he finally decides to take
the right path.” She peered at him, still preaching. “Also, there is nothing
wrong with people who are inclined this way. They are useful to the community.
They are half men, half women, and they are doing women’s work, but with males’
strength. It’s useful.” A sparkle crept into her eyes. “But you are not
inclined this way, too. I know that now. You like girls. I found that out last
night, didn’t I?”

He tried to suppress his grin, still seething, but she came
closer and stood next to him, eyes sparkling, challenging.

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Unable to keep his hands from doing this, he
reached for her, pulling her closer, marveling at the way her body tilted,
nestling against his with such a natural, unashamed grace. “One girl, only one.
The most beautiful of them all.”

She murmured something and pressed closer, gazing at him, full
of expectation, but when he tried to kiss her, she shifted her head out of his
lips’ reach.

“First, tell me something,” she whispered, her breath brushing
against his face. “Do you still want to move to my longhouse and be my man?”

His breath caught, he stared into the depths of her eyes,
seeing the uncertainty and the expectation. 

“Yes, I want that,” he said, his throat dry.

“And what if you were made to wait a long time? Would you
wait?”

“Yes.”

She still peered at him, now openly troubled. “And if they say
‘no’, what will you do then?”

“I,” he swallowed. “I’ll go on proving myself until they see
that I’m worthy. For as long as it takes.”

That reassured her, as her gaze calmed, and she relaxed in his
arms. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise. You will be my woman and no one else. And I
will not give up until your Clan Mothers give us their permission.” He looked
at her searchingly. “Do you think they’ll make trouble?”

She avoided his gaze, slipping out of his arms, instead.

“Come,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “I don’t want to talk
about any of it here, where everyone can spy on us.”

He followed, puzzled, dragged as though by the sheer power of
her will. The touch of her fingers burned his skin, although it was a light,
delightful touch. Her palm was surprisingly soft for a girl working the land
through the long summer moons, with the harvest time at its highest.

The wind tore at them, as always, while walking the ground
exposed to the wrath of the lake and its elements. He enveloped her with one
arm, sheltering.

“Where is this favorite spot of your friend?” she asked when
they passed the cluster of higher cliffs. “I don’t want him to run into us,
either.”

His stomach twisted with anticipation. “Up there, see this
small trail? It’s just a few heartbeats of climbing. But I know he will stay
there until sunset, so we are safe wherever you want to go.”

“Over there, in this grove. There is a nice little clearing I have
in mind.”

The light dimmed as they dove into a thick cluster of trees,
feeling safer now. He tried to slow his step, but she pulled him on,
unrelenting.
Where were they going?
His heart pounded, and he refused to
think of the possibilities the privacy of the woods offered. She surely did not
mean
that
.

“Here.” Breathing heavily, she halted at the small clearing,
extending her arm in a gesture of the hostess inviting the visitor in. “Is it
not a pretty place?”

“Yes, it is.”

He didn’t spare a glance to their surroundings, knowing this
place well enough. He had found it long ago, when first sneaking out of the
town, on a foolish desperate attempt to run away. He hadn’t made it much
farther than this same clearing, he remembered, just a scared, hungry boy of
fifteen. He came back after darkness, to be scolded for his recklessness worthy
only of savages from across the Great Lake. They thought he was just lost,
wandering the surroundings without permission. Him, who had never lost his way!

“I love this place,” she was saying, apparently oblivious of
his darkened mood. “I sneak here sometimes, when I want to be alone.”

“Do you do this often?”

“No, of course not. How can I?” She smiled fleetingly but there
was a tension in her face, and her eyes refused to meet his.

His stomach kept tightening. “Why are we here now?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to talk privately. Why do you ask
so many questions?” Now her eyes met his, the frown sitting well with her
lovely features, making her look even more attractive.

He found it difficult to make his mind work, the tranquility of
the woods enveloping, whispering of its intimacy. His instincts urging him to
pull her back into his arms, he hesitated, repulsed by her anger, despite the
attraction. She was changing too fast, not always for the best.

She glared at him for a heartbeat, then turned away.

“I talked to the Grandmother of our longhouse,” she said. “I
should have waited, talked to my mother first, but just after the noon dances
there was a good opportunity I couldn’t miss.”

“And?”

“And nothing. She said no, never, anyone but you.” Her gaze
bore at him, sparkling with challenge. “I tried to argue, but it only made her
angry.”

“Oh, I see.” He pressed his lips, feeling his stomach sinking,
heavy with desperation.

“What are you going to do about it?” she demanded. “You made
many fine promises back there by the fence.”

Her chest rose and fell, making the fringes upon her dress
flutter, seemingly as angry as she was. Fists clenched, lips pressed tight but
trembling, she peered at him as though expecting him to do something, to make
it all work despite her grandmother’s refusal.

It set his nerves on edge, making him wish to grab her
shoulders and shake her back into normality. She had no right to be angry with
him about that. It was not something he did wrong, not this time.

“So?” She took a step forward, and he thought that she may try
to strike him, seeing the fury, the helpless frustration pouring through her
dark, glittering eyes.

“We’ll think of something,” he said, taken by compassion,
forgetting his own disappointment. “Please, Seketa, stop being so angry. We’ll
find the way.”