chapter 8

Chapter eight

Matai watched the strange trio leave until their figured were obscured by the tree boughs whipping back into place, then Matai sighed and ducked out of his hut into the clearing. The tribes people were just awakening, greeting the new day with bleary eyes and hateful looks towards the sun, which pooled amber light into the glade. One of the tribes people- a portly woman with piggy eyes and a deep-set scowl-acknowledged Matai with a wave of her meaty hand.

“Taiscout,” she said, once Matai was by her side, “Audric wait for you.”

“Where?”

The woman pointed a sausage-link finger towards Audric’s hut and then turned her back on Matai. Matai took a deep breath and walked towards the cabin. It was roughly made of thatched bamboo and caked mud, but was by far the biggest and sturdiest hut in the glade. Matai poised his knuckles against the wainscoting and gave three curt raps, then drew back and waited.

“Enter.”

Matai pulled back the dried fern fronds and slipped inside Audric’s hut.

The inside of the hut smelled woody and of baking gingerbread and chives. Dried cloves and spices hung from the ceiling and a fire crackled in a small pit in the middle of the room. The windows, harshly cut out of the hut’s structure, were covered with fern fronds to block outside light. The floor of Audric’s hut wasn’t dirt like most, but covered in knotted slabs of wood cut from a tree trunk. There was a circle in the wood were the fire went that was cut out, leaving the fire pit earthen.

Audric sat cross-legged on a mat in front of the fire pit, head tilted up slightly, eyes closed, breathing steady and rhythmic.

“Oh,” Matai said quietly. “Sorry. You meditating. I …come back later if this isn’t a good time…” He was inching towards the door, but Audric signaled him to stop with one hand held up, flat palm facing Matai.

Matai hesitated, and Audric slowly put down his hand and cracked open his left eye, peering at Matai. “There no time like present, my boy.” Audric opened his other eyes and clapped his hands twice. A little servant girl swept through the fern-frond door and laid down another mat near the edge of the fire pit, opposite of Audric.

“Bring huckleberry wine,” Audric mumbled to the servant, who nodded and curtsied stiffly before rushing into the back of the hut to fix the wine. Audric beckoned Matai over. “Sit, boy.”

After hesitating for a moment, Matai sat on the mat and crossed his legs like Audric. The mat, although thin, proved to be more comfortable than Matai had expected. A couple moments later the servant returned balancing a silver platter on the flat palm of her hand, and she knelt beside Audric and Matai and set it down, uncorking a stopper from a glass bottle and pouring thin, dark blue liquid into two glasses and handing one to Audric and one to Matai. The servant looked at Audric expectantly.

Audric tasted the wine and then waved her off. “That shall be all, Cowslip,” he said.

Cowslip blushed and curtsied again, then picked up the silver platter and wine bottle and whisked it away to the kitchen.

Audric turned to Matai and smiled.

Matai smiled back awkwardly and took a tiny sip of the wine. He had to stifle a gag. It was strong, like whisky or barley beer, and sour like a lemon. Audric laughed at his reaction.

“Ah, lad, it not for everyone,” Audric said. “Would Matai like drink less strong?”

Matai managed another smile through the pucker of his lips and the water in his eyes. “No no,” he said. “This fine.”

“Good.” Audric set down his cup and propped his elbows up on his knees, folding his fingertips into a tent and pressing it against his lips. He stared intently at Matai for a moment, unmoving, unblinking. Eventually he sat back and unfolded his fingers. “Matai, I have good news and bad news.” He paused and waited for Matai’s reaction. When Matai didn’t say anything, Audric continued. “The good news, we decide to keep you around camp permanently, if you wish accept offer.”

Matai’s eyes lit up. “Really? You…serious?”

Audric nodded.

Matai rocked back on his haunches and stared dazedly up at the ceiling. “Me. A permanent tribe boy,” he mumbled to himself.

“There be bad news,” Audric said quietly.

“Bad news?”

Audric nodded.

Matai rocked back into his original position and grew silent, waiting.

Audric snapped his fingers and the servant, Cowslip, came scurrying back in, carrying a tray of cigarettes, made by ashes and thin-sliced birch bark. She knelt beside Audric and held out the tray. Audric pulled a cigarette from a pack and wedged it between his teeth. Cowslip lit it and then stood up and hustled back to the kitchen.

Audric took a drag from the cigarette and blew a hazy trail of thin, blue smoke out of his pursed lips.

Matai stifled a cough behind his hand. He was unaccustomed to cigarette smoke and it always made him gag.

"The bad news," Audric said, grabbing his ankle and pulling it in farther to tuck his feet through the backs of his knees. "Be this." He leaned forward, the putrid smell of smoke engulfing Matai. "There be people trying to steal our land, Matai," he said in a low voice.

"Really?" Matai's eyes grew wide. "What people?"

"Bad people," Audric said. "I saw them. They plan steal our land." He settled back into his regular position, his expression grave, his eyes dark. The shadows of his face stretched and diminished in the glow of the fire. A silence settled between them and Cowslip tiptoed in to refill their wine glasses.

"They must be stopped," Audric said in a low, steady voice that sent chills down Matai's spine.

"I put sweetener in this wine," came Cowslip's hesitant voice in Matai's ear. She smiled. "I noticed that you didn't exactly like the wine I gave you."

Matai smiled weakly at Cowslip as she filled up his wine glass and she dipped her head in response and scurried away. Matai lifted the wine to his lips and took another hesitant sip. This time, although it was still a bit sour, was less strong and the sweetener took the edge of it. Matai took another sip.

"They must be stopped," Audric said again, mostly to himself. Matai looked up.

"Stopped?" Matai asked. "How?"

Audric smiled grimly. "I have ways," he said. "But I need your help."

"My help?" Matai nearly choked on a swig of wine that he had taken from his glass. He set the glass down. "Why my help? Why not, mayhap, Grimlin or Hartiki? They capable. More capable than I."

"But Matai, do you not understand? This be your final test."

Matai stared into Audric’s eyes, searching for truth.

"Final?"

"Test," Audric finished with a slight, approving nod. "Aye. But it is your choice, Matai. Either help me take down intruders, or say goodbye to life as a tribes boy."

Matai stared at the fire, watching the flickering flames lap at the air, eating up the wood hungrily. His mind spun. When he had found Audric's tribe a month ago, he'd wanted to join it, but he never knew it would involve 'taking someone down'. It didn't seem right. Now he was faced with a decision.

"Would you like more time, Matai?" Audric asked, watching Matai intently.

Matai met his gaze and slowly nodded. "Aye," he said.

"I give you until sunup tomorrow," Audric said, standing. Matai stood also, a bit shakily. Audric put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the doorway and through the fern fronds, into the blaring sunlight. "Good day, Matai." And there was a rustle as Audric ducked back through the fronds into his hut.

"Good day," Matai said to no one in particular.

The day was gorgeous, the sunlight glittering like golden sparkles on the glossy leaves of the foliage. The sky above was bright blue with puffy clouds scudding across it from time to time, but not disrupting the view. Sally, Chris and Willifer trekked away from the camp, each lost in their own thoughts.

Chris was thinking about Tai, and their short visit to the camp. They had snuck out the back way of his hut and were now exploring some of the land on this area of Dumberkew. He was also thinking about his dad, and his new mom. Would they be mad, sad, or proud if they knew he was out here, walking in Reagan Dumberkew’s footsteps?

Sally was thinking about the adventure they were on, about the rush of excitement that pulsed through her veins, like the more adventure they encountered the more alive she became, the more animated and excited. She had a spring in her step that hadn’t been there since her father died.

Willifer was thinking that it was the worst judgment ever to go into that camp. There could very well have been murderers or bandits there, and although he said he wasn’t, that Tai kid could have been one. Yes, Willifer thought as he dodged a branch whipping towards him in Sally’s wake, he very well could have been. It was entirely possible.