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24 - Homecoming

They stood again on the ridge overlooking the plains to the north.

"Which clan, do you think?" Ayessa asked.

"They are too far yet to tell," Yuro replied.

Ayessa had grown to like Yuro. He was blunt and often brash, but also honest and fiercely loyal to his people. In public, he was careful to treat her as an equal, but with four grown daughters of his own, he would often, in private, treat her as one of his own. He was nothing like kind and patient Atua, but she found it easy to view him as a father figure, nonetheless. It helped ease the ache of loss that sometimes still rose within her heart.

Behind her, Eshemwa shifted, and she could sense his impatience. The longer spring dragged on, the more restless he became. He wanted to move the clans North. They argued about it often at night, when they weren't making love.

Her relationship with him was as unlike that she had had with Makaro as a bird was to a fish. Makaro had always placated her, Eshemwa never did, and where Makaro had plied her with loving words, Eshemwa would more often than not call her out as a fool. He was stubborn and reticent to Makaro's charm and good humour, but he also never said one thing when he meant another. His word was what he said it was.

Handing him her spear and knife, she began her descent down the sloping side of the hill, followed by Yuro and the four other chieftains who had come out with them.

The clan ahead of them halted and two men approached. She thought she recognized one, but it wasn't until he waved that she knew for sure.

She broke into a grin and waved back.

"It is my brother," she explained at Yuro's questioning glance.

Her heart lifted as they drew close enough to speak. It was good to see him. She had not realized just how much she had missed him.

"Greetings, brother," she said, closing the distance between them and wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"And greetings to you, sister," he replied, sounding taken aback. "It is good to know you have missed me."

Releasing him, she smacked him playfully on the arm. She didn't deny it though, as she might have before.

She introduced the men with her and gave greeting to the man with Oyeka. Tuma of the Standing Rock Clan. They would be the last to arrive, Oyeka explained.

"What of the other Clans?" Fegan asked. "The Split River or the Black Water?"

Oyeka shook his head. "They will not come. The Black Water people are already moving south, giving ground to the pale men, and the Split River clan thinks they can make peace."

Fegan frowned. "My people tried peace, we lost half our clan."

"I know," Oyeka said, "and they will too when they try, but I could not persuade them."

Ayessa shook her head. "We can do nothing for them, then, but we are now seven clans strong. With the addition of the Standing Rock people, it may be enough to push back the blue-eyed men and reclaim our lands and herds."

The other chieftains muttered agreement.

Ayessa looked to Tuma. "Please, be welcome to our fires, you and your people. It has been a long journey for you. Come, rest, eat."

As the Chieftains turned to walk back towards the camp, Oyeka caught Ayessa by the arm.

"Where is father?" he asked.

She waited for the other men to gain some distance before she told him.

He closed his eyes when she finished, and when he opened them, she could see tears, but he did not shed them.

"What of the clan?" he asked, indicating they should walk.

She told him everything that had passed since he had left, except for things between her and Eshemwa. That was for no one but themselves to know until they chose otherwise.

She glanced over her shoulder, towards the retreating Tuma and Oyeka caught her look.

"He is well," he said.

"Who?" Ayessa said, feigning ignorance.

Oyeka raised his brow but said nothing more of it.

***

She saw Makaro later, when the Standing Rock Clan joined the camp, but she did not go to him, choosing to stay with Fegan and Yuro by the fire instead. From the corner of her eye, she watched him hesitate, then walk away. She felt oddly relieved. She did not want to deal with him just yet. When she turned back, she could see Eshemwa watching her, but his face remained expressionless and she returned to her conversation.

"If we wait too long, word will reach them that the clans have united. If it hasn't already," Yuro was saying.

"Standing Rock just arrived," Ayessa said. "Theirs was a long journey of many days. We must let them rest."

"Yuro is right," Fegan argued. "If we let the clan rest for too long, we will lose the advantage of surprise."

Ayessa sighed and rubbed her thumb along the bridge of her nose. Oyeka, who sat beside her, remained oddly quiet.

"Day after next then," she said. "Tuma's people will have two nights to rest, and then we will move our Hunters North."

Fegan opened his mouth to argue, but Ayessa cut him off, "Two more days will not cost us the advantage."

Fegan closed his mouth, pressing his lips into a grim line, but finally he nodded.

Ayessa looked out over the fire, to the mass of people clustered nearby. She worried about her people, about the cost of life their actions would demand. She wondered if they should have fled south instead with the Split River people, but the course was set and not even she could change it now. Three days from now the price would be exacted and only then would they know if they had bartered for shale or flint.

***

Eshemwa trailed one finger down the length of her side, over her hip, dipping down towards the scar on her thigh. He traced the lines of her raised skin gently, but his face, when he looked up at her, was unreadable.

He had been fierce in his lovemaking tonight.

Pulling his hand away he rolled onto his back. Both hands behind his head, he gazed up into the canopy of newly sprouted leaves.

She watched him a moment, her eyes tracing the hard lines of his jaw, the soft curve of his lip. Long lashes fluttered as he let his eyes drift shut.

He was so many things, this man. Hard and soft, gentle and fierce. She thought perhaps she loved him, but her feelings for him were all tangled up with her feelings for Makaro.

She rolled onto her back beside him, long blades of grass tickling the sides of her neck. The sky overhead was clear, and she could make out the net of stars above.

"Are you afraid of what will come?" she asked.

He shifted, and she thought he had turned his head to look at her.

"Of course," he replied. "Only a fool would not be."

She turned her own head and met his dark gaze. The desire to unburden her fears was great, but she thought of her father, and his admonishment against it, and left her words unsaid.

Eshemwa lifted a hand to her cheek, cupping it. He said nothing either, but he brought his face to hers and softly touched her lips with his own.

When they re-entered the camp, it was quiet and dark, the fires banked for the evening. As they approached her tent, Eshemwa parted from her, raising his hand to lightly brush her fingers with his before leaving to seek his own tent.

She didn't see Makaro until he stood.

"Aii," she said. "You startled me."

"You and Eshemwa?" he said. It was both a question and an accusation.

She could feel her cheeks heating, but she said nothing.

He snorted and made to move past her, but she caught his arm at the last moment.

"Makaro," she started, but he shook off her hand.

"No," he said. "I will not hear you speak."

The shadows of the surrounding tents swallowed him as he walked away.

The next day, Tebia moved into his tent.



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