The Gathering Night (21 page)

‘That makes a change!'

‘Usually he doesn't even ask first! Did you ask this one, Edur?'

‘Yes, tell us, did you ask Osané? Or did you just . . .'

At last the laughter died down, and I said quietly to Edur, ‘If you're happy to do this for me . . .'

‘I told you – I wouldn't have spoken if I wasn't! Don't worry about my girl. She's not going anywhere. It can wait.'

We told Aitor and Hodei what we wanted to do. They said the spirits wouldn't mind, as long as Edur and I exchanged everything we had until Initiation Camp was over. This would show the spirits that we'd agreed to become one another for a little while. So I put on Edur's deerskins and his heavy bearskin cloak, and he took my clothes – my tunic was stretched as tight as it would go across his chest! And my cloak barely reached his knees – you can guess how many jokes I had to put up with about that! But Edur did better with my bow and arrows – most of his arrows needed mending, and his bow wanted a new string. I was glad I'd be able to do those things for him before I gave them back. His spear was heavier than mine. At least it wasn't broken! The haft of my spear had snapped: one of the hinds had twisted so much she'd broken it in two. Edur and I exchanged our knives, and our flints and needles – even our tinder. So there I was, looking like the greatest hunter of the Auk People – all I lacked was his tattoos, and his ugly face! Isn't that right, Edur?

We carried as much meat as we could. We'd hung the rest from trees where no Animals could reach it. It was already drying in the wind. When our Hunting Feast was over, we walked by Moonlight through the long shadows of the forest paths. Gathering Camp was sleeping when we arrived. We laid our meat by the Go-Betweens' hearths, and stretched ourselves out to sleep at the foot of the mound, men and dogs together, until the dawn.

We were woken by the squeals of children. They crowded round while we began to divide the meat. We brushed them off like so many flies, but like flies they kept coming back. The women came out and woke the fires in their hearths, fetched firewood and water, and carried on as if they hadn't seen us at all. But none of them went out with their baskets. They hovered, pretending not to wait. Some were mothers, hoping to overhear some hint about their sons. Itzal's mother, Arantxa, was the worst. She knew very well that no man could say anything until the boys came back to tell their own stories. I felt ashamed for Itzal. He'd done well: he didn't deserve a mother who made a child of him before other men.

We laid out the carcasses in the Dividing Place in front of the Go-Betweens' mound, from the largest to the smallest. We'd taken so many hinds it was easy to divide them: even with one for every hunter to take to his own hearth we had enough left over. We agreed – as always – that Edur had earned the biggest, for more hinds had given themselves to his spear than to anyone else's. I was proud when the men decided the next should be for me! When every hunter had his share we gave three calves to Zigor, who'd stayed behind as Go-Between. We gave extra calves to the Wise. There was still a little meat left over. Because our hearts were kind we gave to the hearths that had the fewest – or worst! – hunters, or the most children.

Everyone had enough meat to eat all they could for the next few days and still have some to dry for the journey home. Soon the trees around Gathering Camp would be filled with new skulls: the spirits of the Deer would stay and watch over our Gathering Place while we were scattered in our winter Camps.

As I worked the hide off my hind, I felt the rich meat under my fingers. My heart filled with pride. I'll never know why the others gave the second hind to me – how did I deceive them? Perhaps my friends mistook me for someone else; perhaps they were so busy making their own great kills they didn't realise how little I'd done! I handed the hide to Alaia. It was heavy with delicious fat.
She
thought I'd deserved this great prize! It's easy to deceive a woman about something she knows nothing about!

Nekané was sitting by the fire, spooning mashed up reed-root into Esti's mouth, when I carried my share to our hearth. I threw the meat at her feet. ‘I'm ashamed to bring you so little,' I told her. ‘But I'm not much of a hunter, as you know. The others were kind enough to let me take these bits and pieces. I hope our family isn't going to starve because I'm not much use to you.'

Nekané nodded. If she was surprised to see me back so soon she didn't say so. She let Esti have the spoon, and started poking at the meat. ‘Hmm,' she said. ‘I suppose we can make some sort of feast out of this, if we can make it go far enough. You might as well hang it from the oak; it won't weigh that thin branch down too much. I can't say we've missed you. But here's your daughter letting on she's pleased to see you again!'

I swung Esti on to my shoulder and she pulled my ears in delight. Kemen came up behind me with his share of the meat. Because he was a stranger he'd got a thin hind with a worm-eaten hide and very little fat – I'd noticed her lame leg when we stood at the lip of the corrie. Kemen only had a small share because he was new to the Hunt, not because he didn't deserve any better. Kemen dumped his meat at Nekané's feet. She couldn't hide her astonishment! I almost doubled up laughing, and Esti grabbed my hair.

‘This family's got Amets so it doesn't really need me,' Kemen said to Nekané. ‘He can do all the hunting you need without any help. But here I am, all the same.'

I didn't yet realise why Nekané was so astonished, but I saw the gleam of satisfaction in her eye. That pleased me.

My wife's father came out of the tent. I'd only been away five nights, but suddenly he seemed very old. He looked at our meat and smiled. ‘You could have done worse, Amets! It could have been even less!'

‘It
would
have been a great deal less.' I took Kemen's arm and pulled him forward. ‘But now there are two of us. He'll hunt for us better than I can. At least he can't do much worse!'

I'd seen my wife's father give Kemen that piercing look before, sizing him up. Perhaps he wasn't so old after all: perhaps he did still have something to say. For a heartbeat I was alarmed.

My wife's father nodded at Kemen. ‘So! The names of your kin are to live among us, it seems. You were told to choose wisely: you've set about it pretty quickly, haven't you?'

‘
You
were—'

My wife's father laid his finger across his lips.

The word whipped round the Camp faster than the wind that Kemen had joined our family. So many women crowded round our hearth I could stand it no longer. ‘Come on,' I said to Kemen. We strolled over to the Go-Betweens' hearths. Men came and slapped us on the back and shook Kemen's arms until he was dazed. The smell of cooking began to fill the air. The Sun climbed into the High Sun Sky and beamed into our clearing. Dogs gnawed noisily at deer legs, snarling at men and dogs who came too near. We felt drowsy after the long days and nights in Hunting Camp. There wasn't anything much for men to do now except sleep, so that's what we did.

When the Sun dipped behind the oaks we stirred ourselves. The feast was almost ready. We strolled back to our own hearths, but we'd barely reached them when angry shouts broke out from somewhere behind the Go-Betweens' hearths. Itsaso came running over. ‘They're fighting!'

‘Who?' I asked idly. Men are always fighting at Gathering Camp. If this wasn't about the meat it would be about some woman.

‘Hodei and Zigor! He
hit
him!'

‘
What?
'

‘I tell you – they're at the Go-Betweens' hearths – and – and – I
saw –
he
hit
him!'

We weren't the only ones to rush to see what was happening. The whole Camp was gathering. Itsaso wriggled and pushed her way to the front, just below the mound. Kemen and I could see well enough over People's heads from where we were. Someone had wakened the fires in the Go-Betweens' hearths: they were filled with little licking flames from end to end.

We looked up through the wreathing smoke. Zigor and Hodei were circling one another like dogs waiting to spring. Nekané stood at the threshold of the Go-Betweens' shelter, arms stretched out as if to bar the way. Aitor came shoving through the crowd. He rushed up the mound, leaped over the Go-Betweens' fires and ran between Zigor and Hodei, pushing them apart. They turned on him in fury. Aitor shouted something back. After that they kept their voices low, but the air still quivered with their anger.

Aitor went over to Nekané. His head was close to hers. They talked. Zigor and Hodei stood far apart, watching them warily. Then Aitor took Nekané by the arm and led her over to the other two.

By now the children had drifted away, and some of the women had gone back to their cooking, but when Aitor called us the women came running back. No woman was going to miss a story like this!

Aitor spoke to us across the fire. ‘A girl was healed while we were at the Hunt. Osané was brought back from death. Someone had tried to kill her.'

A low muttering rose from the men. When I looked at the women's faces they showed no surprise. I caught my wife's father looking at Kemen and me. He seemed the least surprised of all.

‘It was one of the men standing here.'

We all glanced at each other.

‘That man knows who I'm talking about.'

When we looked at each other again we saw only our own question mirrored in each other's eyes.

‘Soon the rest of you will know too,' said Aitor. He pulled Nekané forward. ‘There's more. This woman dared to use a Go-Between's Drum! What should we do with her?'

‘Kill her!'

‘Stone her!'

‘Cast her out!'

If Nekané was frightened by the shouts and shaken fists she didn't show it. Aitor held up his arms and the men were silent.

‘You're all wrong,' he said. ‘If the spirits had been angry they'd have killed her then and there. D'you think I didn't know when she took my Drum? D'you think I couldn't hear it when it called me? If you think as little of me as that, then it's
me
you should cast out!'

That puzzled everyone into silence.

‘Osané's soul was wandering far away,' said Aitor. ‘The spirits of sickness had carried her close to death. Nekané followed her. She brought Osané back. My Drum showed me every step she took. This woman is Go-Between!'

I heard every man take in his breath at once.

‘I know because she took my Drum. Zigor knows because when Nekané followed Osané's soul out of the world Zigor watched what happened. Hodei didn't see any of this. Hodei, what do you say now?'

The unwillingness in Hodei's voice was plain. ‘If you accept her, and Zigor insists on teaching her, no doubt we'll soon find out if this is a gift or a curse! So, very well: let it unfold if it must, and we shall see. But there's another matter.'

Hodei turned to the People and raised his voice. ‘Osané belongs to Edur. If anyone doubted whether Edur was a good hunter – and I don't think anyone ever did – then this last hunt will have taught them something! My sister Arantxa and her husband' – Hodei called Osané's father by his name – ‘gave Osané to Edur, and Edur agreed that as soon as he got back from the hunt he'd join their family. I also gave my word on this.'

My heart leaped to my throat. Was Edur about to lose Osané? It was my fault that Edur wasn't here to speak for himself. I owed it to him to stand up for him. I began to clear my throat anxiously, in case I had to lend my voice to Hodei's plea.

Then Zigor spoke: ‘Osané will not go back to her family.'

‘Osané's my niece, not yours! You keep out of it!'

The angry shouts of the Go-Betweens were taken up by the People. A scuffle broke out in front of us, close to the Go-Betweens' hearths. Kemen plucked my deerskin. ‘This isn't our fight,' he whispered. ‘It's too early for me to take sides.'

I pulled him back. ‘No, stay here. I know what you . . . you've not been here long enough . . . but you're in my family now. No one can get you alone . . . Besides, I may need—'

‘Enough!' Aitor roared.

Everyone was quiet.

‘Come now,' said Aitor, suddenly smiling. ‘Let's have no more fighting! It's only over a woman, too. What are we coming to, that the whole People has to concern itself over such a little thing? And we have a feast tonight! What are we thinking of, wasting the evening like this? Is nobody hungry after all? 'When People started laughing Aitor laughed with them. ‘So let's get this business over with. Nekané, fetch Osané!'

Nekané lifted the flap of the Go-Betweens' shelter. As one, the crowd took in its breath, and held it. While Nekané was inside the shelter, silence settled over us, heavy as river-fog.

Nekané came out, leading Osané by the hand. I couldn't see much through the smoke. The girl stumbled, but followed where she was led. She stood next to the Go-Betweens, staring at her feet.

‘This girl no longer belongs to Arantxa's family,' repeated Zigor in his dry voice.