The Unfinished Song: Taboo (15 page)
Read The Unfinished Song: Taboo Online
Authors: Tara Maya
Kavio squeezed two rocks in his hand. Hertio had been wrong about one thing. Rthan wasn’t kin to Nargano
anymore,
but he had been once. Rthan’s first wife had been Narg
a
no’s daughter, Lyass, a woman of Blue Water’s chief-maker clan, Three Pearl
Fish
.
Lyass and Meira,
Rthan’s
wife and
daughter
—
Nargano’s
daughter and granddaughter—
had been killed during
the New Moon Raid
by Yellow Bear
eight
years ago. Rthan had returned to his maternal clan, dissolving the formal relationship between the two men. Rthan
had
never spoke
n to Kavio
of his first marriage, and Nargano hadn’t mentioned it in his message either, but Kavio was sure neither man had forgotten or forgiven.
He
sat still a long time, but in his mind, he
continued to move
people and ideas around like rocks in the dust. The fire cracked, awakening him from his reverie, and he scooped the thinking stones into the ceramic white bowl Dindi had given him.
I guess my life isn’t worth much
, Dindi had deprecated herself, and the bowl, when she’d gifted it to him. The comparison was more apt than she’d realized. The craftsmanship of the bowl, though deceptively simple, was exquisite upon closer inspection. A hint of wings and curved necks, graceful forms
had been worked
subtly from the silver specks of the mottled stone. Tilt it one way, and the shapes looked like swans; tilt it the other way, and they more resembled maidens holding up their arms.
He resisted the urge to pick up one of the rocks and paint it with a symbol for Dindi. What symbol would he choose? What color? He didn’t know, and really, he kept telling himself, it didn’t matter. There was no place for her in his formations.
Rthan, on the other hand…
Of all the tortures Rthan had expected to encounter in Yellow Bear, boredom had not been one he thought to fear. Now he found idleness to be his biggest foe. He could not hunt, or fish, or fight, or even leave the compound. When she was not teaching the Initiate Tavaedies, Brena had her medicines to brew, and the sick to attend. He kept up his own exercises, pull-ups and push-ups and flexes, but that ate only a portion of the day. At his request, she let him use a blade to whittle, but he did not want to make arrow shafts for his enemies, nor had he the artistry to carve a boat’s prow. He settled on whittling bone into fishing hooks. Word went about that he would trade them, and Yellow Bear folk, mostly men, came by to offer him beer or honey or nuts in exchange for a handful of hooks.
At first, he felt strange bartering with the enemy. But they were men, much as any men from his own tribe, some talkative, some quiet, some who liked to boast of their skills and the size of the fish they had caught, others who were eager to learn new tips and tricks of the river. A few taunted him, because he was a slave. A few were friendly. They were a mix of good and bad, as were any group of men he had known.
It bothered him.
Until now, he had thought of the tribesfolk of Yellow Bear as if they were a school of fish, a mass of bodies, different from one another only in size or speed, but alike in the vileness of their character. Revenge meant spearing as many fish as possible, simple as that. Now he searched the face of every Yellow Bear man who came to him to offer him a few ears of corn for a fishhook, wondering if this was the man who had killed his family.
What would it mean for his quest for vengeance if he narrowed his focus to the warrior who had wielded the spear?
They weren’t
all
responsible, were they? Brena had not killed his wife.
Or maybe they
were
all responsible. The murdering warrior had been fed and clothed by someone before he joined the New Moon Raid. Perhaps it had been Brena. It could have been her former husband, or her brother or her father or her cousin who dealt the blow. She might have danced magic to make the murderer’s spear stronger in battle. None of them were innocent. He needed to remember that. Yet, here, a month into his captivity, he sat on a log stool in Brena’s house, whittling a bone, thinking about what he would trade it for, and how he would surprise her with the gift.
Over the turn of a moon, Rthan
had
learned
Brena
was a deeply reserved woman, a fact disguised by the fact
that
her shyness most often manifested in frontal assaults on whatever chore—or hapless oaf—happened to be at hand.
Today she
bustled into and around the room, sweeping and rearranging the already spotless interior, a sure sign she wanted to bring up an awkward topic.
“What did you think of Zavaedi Kavio?” she finally asked.
“As a war leader?”
Too damned good
for comfort
. “Why ask me? I’m just a slave.”
“Fa!” She shoved the broom into his hands. “Fine. You sweep.”
“Sweep what? If you sweep this floor any more there won’t be any floor left.”
She snatched the broom back, though instead of resuming her attack on the packed clay ground, she held the broom in front of her like a spear. “So you aren’t willing to help my tribe at all. In anything.”
“Why are you getting upset about this right now?” he asked, angry himself from sheer irritation. “I made my position
clear
from the start.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She whacked the floor with the broom. “I knew I couldn’t count on you.”
“Brena.” He stepped between her and the broom with a smooth move that captured her waist. Though he often teased her, he seldom touched her. His unexpected impudence arrested her attention. “Tell me what’s really going on.”
“The other Zavaedies have asked me to step aside during the next moon of teaching the Initiates.”
“Why? You love teaching. The Initiates respect you.”
“In winter, we teach the Evergreen Dances.”
When she saw he still didn’t understand, blushes turned her cheeks berry bright. “The fertility dances. I can’t do it without--”
She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. He finally understood. He realized he still had his hand around her waist. Abruptly, he dropped it. “I don’t know your
tama
. All our fertility dances revolve around the sea. The Pregnant Salmon, the Pearl Comb, the Breasts of the Blue Lady--”
“I could teach you as I teach them. But I don’t want to have to partner with some boy the age of my daughter for all the demonstrations…”
Rthan, about to respond, opened his mouth and closed it. A blue glow and a sob came from the corner of Brena’s hut, solidifying into a crying girl.
Meira
.
Brena gave no indication of having seen or heard her. While Brena organized the clay jars of herbs on her shelf, carried the eating mat outside to air, swept the mud floor with a horsetail brush, the Blue Lady whined in a steady drone.
“These are the people who murdered me,” she said. “How can you relax in the company of butchers? How can you forget the deathdebt you owe me? Did you ever love me at all, to forget me so easily?”
“Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Brena asked.
“You’ve forgotten me,” said Meira.
“No,” Rthan said.
“Forget I asked,” Brena said, raw with hurt, desperate to hide it.
“You didn’t ask.” He paced to the far side of the room, so he didn’t have to look at either of them. “I’ll partner with you, but it changes nothing.”
“It may come to nothing in any case.” She whacked the dust off the eating mat and
re-set
it before the hearth. With a stick, she nudged the
hearth’s
embers into flames. Her voice sounded odd, her words too pinched and rapid. “Kavio has asked to borrow you.”
“Borrow me?”
“His words. Hertio gave you as a slave to Kavio, and if Kavio demands you back, I cannot deny him.”
“These are the people who murdered me,” whispered his daughter Meira. “Did you think you could trust them?”
Rthan stood up, towering over Brena. She backed up a step.
“It makes no difference to me,” he said.
A shadow darkened the weave across the door. Without waiting to hear a greeting, Brena pulled the door hanging aside for Kavio.
“You can have him back, as far as I’m concerned.” As she left the hut, she glanced back over her shoulder, a crinkle on her brow. Rthan watched her go, before he turned to face his enemy.
The two men measured one another. Rthan had made no promise not to escape in Kavio’s presence. However, the sun was setting, curfew had been sounded on the conch shells by the warriors in the trees, and the wooden gates had been closed and latched. Laughter and singing filled the courtyard where the Initiates gathered for the evening meal. Not an auspicious time to escape.
Also, just outside the door, Rthan glimpsed Kavio’s new henchman, a strange, hairy behemoth who dragged around a boulder almost as tall as he was. Bodyguard or slave, who knew, but the man looked as though he would be formidable in a brawl.
Kavio, all smiles and twinkling eyes, held something.
When the shark smiles, beware.
“I brought you a gift.” He sat down on the eating mat and gestured to Rthan to do the same.
“Go on, open it.”
Brena’s house smelled like sage and rosemary, but it couldn’t entirely overpower the aroma from
the package wrapped in leaves.
Rthan peeled back the leaves. Delight jolted him.
“Hakurl!” Then he frowned. “Why?”
“An apology. After all, I caused you to lose your last batch.”
“I planned to kill you.” Rthan didn’t touch the gift. “If you
owe me anything, it is a death
debt. Not this.”
“You still owe deathdebts to Yellow Bear, but not to me. The
death
debt
between us,
I repaid you during the battle.” Kavio lifted the putrid shark toward the hearth fire. “Fa, if you aren’t going to eat it, let me burn it, before it melts my nose.”
“No!” Rthan snatched the hakurl from the path of danger. “Are you mad? This takes six months to make, and it’s impossible to get in Yellow Bear. Where
did
you get it?”
“Traded a
veritable
herd of
aurochs calves
. I had more than I could keep
—
after Hertio’s pretty speech about me, parents of Initiates kept giving me things.”
People gave gifts to heroes, and to allies. No one gave gifts to slaves, to enemies. Rthan’s frown deepened. Back in Blue Waters, there were names for men like Kavio, who were too smart. Slippery eels.
“You want something from me.”
“
I’ve come to collect on your deathdebts to the people of Yellow Bear.”
“So this is my last meal?”
“
When you were chasing me, I noticed you and your men used a technique to fight and boat at the same time. You called out interesting commands, which I’ve never heard before. I want you to teach that method of fighting to me.”
Rthan barked a laugh. “Tavaedi secrets.”
“Perfect. I dance Blue.”
Instinctively, Rthan glanced toward the Blue Lady, but the corner of the hut where she’d sat was empty.
“You can’
t expect me to
teach my people’s secrets
in exchange
for a fish.”
“I offer a bargain:
if you teach me, your attack on the Initiates will be as if forgotten. You will be a slave no longer, but free to return to your own people.
”
He shrugged, just a touch of a smile on his lips. “Or stay, if you’ve found something worth staying for.”
The fact that Kavio wanted this so badly told Rthan he must refuse. “I’ve already given my word to partner Brena
for the winter lessons. Would you have me break my word to her?”
“Winter…? Oh, you mean the solstice fertility
tama
. Don’t worry,
if you
show me your river tricks, you’ll have plenty of daylight
to dance with her.”
Kavio leaned forward. “This is your chance to start a new life, Rthan. War Chief Hertio of Yellow Bear has formally requested to treat and trade for peace with War Chief Nargano. The Elders of Yellow Bear have allowed it.”
“Nargano will never agree. You can’t fathom the depth of his hate for Yellow Bear.”
“You’re wrong. He’s asked us to send a peace party to Blue Waters tribehold. Hertio is choosing members of the peace party now, and we will leave the day after the midwinter festival. If you teach me your techniques, as I’ve asked, I will request Hertio to include you in the peace party.”
Rthan was too surprised to speak. He wondered what Nargano had in mind. Not peace. Surely Kavio wasn’t naïve enough to believe in peace? Then again, though Kavio was devious, he was also young, full of a foolish faith, which only the young could muster, in people’s ability to change.
“I want something else,” said Rthan, “besides my freedom. A name.”
“What name?”
“Of the Yellow Bear warrior who slew my family.”
Kavio’s forehead furrowed. “That’s not possible. The New Moon Raid was eight years ago. From what I have seen in the History Dance recreating the raid, the battle took place in darkness. The warriors who locked the women and children in the huts and set fire to the roofs probably never even saw their victims.”
“Maybe,” Rthan said. “But one of those warriors put the torch to my house, murdered my family. I want his name. I want to look into his face.”
“And then what?”
“I will kill him.”
“We all have to let go of the hate that divides tribe from tribe, clan from clan and man from man,” Kavio said.
Idiot
. Rthan snorted. He would never rest until he had avenged his family. He knew the rest of his tribe felt the same. All had lost kin at some point to the bear huggers, whether in this generation or a previous one. “You can’t drain the ocean with a jar.”
“Haven’t you found a new life with Brena? I’ve seen you with her. You look almost happy.”
“She is a good woman,” Rthan said softly. He would not break his promise to her.
But Kavio was living in a dream. Nargano would never make peace. And Rthan did not want… it didn’t matter what he wanted. He was committed to supporting Nargano in seeing the plan through to the bitter end, though it drowned them all. Kavio would learn the hard way that one man could not command the tide to turn. Neither Brena nor her daughters would be present during their lesson on the river, and Rthan would have his chance to escape.
“I will train you in our ways,” said Rthan. “When do you want to start?”
Kavio grinned like boy and leaped up. “I will tell you when I’m ready.”
“The sooner the better,” Rthan growled. He felt hot and cold claw him inside. What if he had no chance to say goodbye to Brena? What would she think of him when she discovered he’d killed Kavio and fled back to his own people right after dancing the fertility ritual with her?
Idiot
. Even if he kept his promise to dance with her on Winter Solstice, what would she think of him when he returned with a tide of war canoes to bring Yellow Bear to its knees, to enslave her and her daughters?
The ocean would not be large enough to contain her hate.
Outside the hut, Kavio’s henchman lingered after the boy-Zavaedi left.
“Don’t you have someplace else to drag that pebble?” Rthan asked testily. He had little enough freedom, without an idiot with a pet rock loitering in the yard where Rthan liked to sit.
The shaggy man leaned forward. “I heard you ask Zavaedi Kavio for a name. A Yellow Bear name.”
“So? You have a problem with that?”
“I, too, seek a name.
A Blue Waters name.
Maybe we can make a trade. Your name for my name.”
“What
is
your name? And whose name do you seek?”
“I am Gremo. Of Lark Creek. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”
Rthan had of course heard of the Battle of Lark Creek. “Before my time.”
“But you’ve heard of it. You know the names and bloodlines of the warriors who fought there twenty-five years ago. I can describe the man’s tattoos. You can identify him from that. Meanwhile, I can ask questions about the warriors who took part in the New Moon Raid, questions no one would answer if
you
asked. We can help each other.”
“You seek vengeance as well?”
“I seek my father.”
Rthan rocked back on his heels. “You are Blue Waters kin?”
Gremo barred his teeth in what might have been a grin.
“Yes,” said Rthan. “I will trade the name you want if you can give me the name I want, though you must prove to me that it is the
right
name.”
That satisfied the hairy man, who departed, hauling his boulder behind him.
It did not satisfy Rthan. He felt uneasy about his bargain with Gremo, but the brunt of his worry fell on the bargain he’d made with Kavio. He had pledged to aide the enemy in war skill, nothing less. The more he mulled over it, the more he was sure that was treason.
He had only one option, if he did not want to divulge secrets to Kavio. He must escape first. The Blue Lady had warned him she could not help, but Kavio, more the fool, would be practicing with Rthan on the bosom of the river.