Ch 15: Curious Intent

Would you choose to live in shame?

    Trespassers were a rare, but recurring phenomenon, a curiosity

which drew the whole of the village to the plaza as the massive log

gates of the Northway opened. To most villagers they were to be

reviled, outlanders who would contaminate the sanctity of their

forest sanctuary, but, to the young lady watching with curious

intent, they were strangers who knew wondrous things she couldn’t

begin to imagine. It brought sorrow to her heart knowing they would

soon be put to death.

    She stood apart from the rest of the onlookers, wearing a shabby,

two-hide dress, with a knee-length skirt turning to tatters along the

hem from age. It was cinched at the waist with a fading green sash,

lending the only color to her sun-faded tawny buckskin. A plain shawl

was tossed over her shoulders in the early chill, with little quillwork

and no beads at all, unlike the other women. Fur-lined leggings and

utilitarian high-top moccasins, soiled from long hours of work in the

fields, were her standard gear for the cold. Her only adornment were

two glorious Hercinia feathers, clasped in her long black hair with a

barrette of tiny spiral shells, and a strange, cruciform talisman

hanging from her neck. She was conspicuous wherever she went,

with her blue eyes and the bouncy curls highlighting her otherwise

straight hair. She had always been a peculiarity in the minds of her

people.

    The cold winter sun finally crept above the trees, reaching for the

pale glow of ice high in the blue sky, bathing the earthen village

below in its bleak shine. The rounded, mud brick buildings had

sod-covered daub or leafy thatched roofs, surrounded by wattle

fencing for livestock, whilst others were rectangular, with walls made

of wooden planks, plastered with a light colored clay and straw. Tall

darkwood trees grew near the buildings, providing cooling shelter in

the summer and cover from heavy snows, with the skyline dominated

by pyramidal temples of stone.

    She watched the progression pass through the gate, and the first

thing she noticed was the outlander’s possessions, followed by a man

so large it took two braves to bare his litter. She couldn’t help but

hope for many books amongst the mysterious treasures in their bags.

    Out of the crowd of on lookers came another young woman,

clothed in much finer garb. She wore a three-hide dress with a

colorfully beaded yolk, adorned in turquoise jewelry afforded her

station as wife of the future patriarch of a powerful family.

    “He would make a fine hunter and fierce warrior, with great

stock, perfect for a husband, don’t you think, Leana?” she asked

derisively in their native tongue.

    Leana thought how easy it would be to marry, and bring affluence

to the family she has shamed. Many men secretly looked upon her

with hunger in their eyes despite her disgrace, but none would dare

approach her, aside from him.

    “Do you always think with your womanhood, Bashra?”

    “I know my place within our tribe, and the time has come for you

to grow up and do the same,” Bashra chided, her voice carrying so

that anyone with an ear could know her words.

    Leana knew she was being teased, but she had grown accustomed

to the ridicule. She put up with the abuse since few outside of her

family ever spoke to her, regarding her as little more than a child.

Still, her face turned a furious red, but it would be out of place for

her to rebuke such an eminent woman. She turned her attention

back to the procession, to hide her anger and shame, when she

noticed something that made her pale. A number of braves hauled

six long, covered bundles, and she knew they were bodies wrapped in

cerecloth, wax-coated draperies meant to honor fallen warriors at

their burial rites. Then, there appeared another subdued trespasser,

a younger, slender man, with his clothing scorched and his face

singed red. Her heart raced at the prospects of magic being used,

and she suddenly recalled being startled awake last night to thunder

in a cloudless winter sky. What wonders could be gleaned, if only she

could speak to them, get to know… him… She caught her breath as

he was dragged past, his head bobbing with the litters’ motion,

making wisps of his dark, luxurious hair tumble alluringly about his

exotic face, the burns on his skin failing to blemish its fairness. He

was unlike any man she had ever seen.

    That was when she felt watchful eyes on her, studying her

reaction to this unfortunate event, searching for any sign of the

anger and resentment that has become the mask he wore whenever

he saw her, making his condemnation plain. She tried to avoid his

accusing stare, but he marched to confront her, and she retuned his

gaze defiantly.

    “Now do you see the evils of the outlanders?” he shouted

brazenly.

    She felt her face redden at his words, embarrassed and angered

by his nerve, bringing their shame before the whole of the village.

She would show him, she didn’t care what the others thought of her

anymore. She would give them all a show!

    “Did you ever think that they were just defending themselves,

Seneca?” she yelled back, the ferocity in her voice surprising even

herself.

    “How could you feel sympathy for these outlanders? Haven’t you

realized the dangers of the world without?” Seneca’s expression

changed, “Have a change of mind, Leana, and take your rightful

place by my side, as my wife.”

    She couldn’t bare to look at him then, the pain of what once was,

and seemed lost forever, broke her heart all over again. Perhaps she

was to blame for all that’s happened…

    He drew close to her and whispered, “Find it in your heart to love

me again.”

    She struggled to answer something she didn’t fully comprehend

herself, and her voice trembled with emotion, “So much has

changed-”

    The raged that defined him now erupted, lashing out at her in its

fury, “Nothing has changed! Except I have grown up while you still

cling to your childish dreams! Your desire to leave our forest

sanctuary will be the end of you, as it nearly was for me! They are

slavemakers! Destroyers of the land, they would rape Gaia of all her

bounty!” he used the outlander words he’d learned, the meanings of

which she wished to forget. “And that is what would happen to you!

They would take your womanhood, and make you their slave!

    “Enough!” she screamed, unable to bear the crushing weight of

her broken dreams. Facing the reality of settling down to a mundane

life as a village wife disillusioned her to tears. She would never know

the world beyond the soaring darkwood trees and the mountains of

Gaia’s Bosom, which their forest sanctuary was cradled against

protectively.

    She felt battered and drained, as if toiling in the field all day, her

embarrassment over the scene they had just made stinging at her

eyes, when she stepped in line with the somber procession, leaving

Seneca behind.

    The villagers plodded along in shocked silence, following the

Sachem in his tall, feathered headdress, as he led them to Gaia’s

Temple, which stood out as a pyramid of stone within the center of

the square, with four smaller pyramidal temples at each corner. The

procession flowed down the Mainway, between two temples whose

stone seemed alive as they passed, with scenes of ancient battles and

caricatures of the Guardians of the Sky. Parallel stone rows of

seating for the whole village rose at the foot of Gaia’s Temple,

overlooking a manicured courtyard, where the games were held, but

this would be a solemn occasion. Even the hands working in the fields

would be summoned for the ceremony of the Fallen Warrior, and all

the Temple Coryphées donned their richly embellished sacramental

garb, preparing for the Dance of the Dead. They wore resplendently

painted, elaborately carved masks, caricatures of demons and

portraits of the Guardians of the Sky, to reenact the Battle for the

Heavens.

    The people milled about, somberly taking their seats, as the

bodies ascended the stone stairs of Gaia’s Temple, their spirits

taking the Warrior’s Path, guided by Gaia’s gentle hands to take

their rightful places in the Shimmering Sky. The Coryphées launched

their rhythmic dance, gesticulating elaborate signs and symbols with

their entire bodies. The musicians began to play in tune to the sound

created by the dancer’s ostentatious attire and the noisemakers they

wore, jingling bangles on long fringes or shells slapped together with

their choreography. The people began to mourn, the plaintive wailing

of loved ones pierced the air as the ritual upon the temple took its

macabre course.

    Leana enviously watched the beautiful dancers prance about in

their flamboyant costumes, knowing her role during the ceremony

would be with them, expressing their honor and reverence for the

fallen warriors, lifting the people’s spirits in this time of grief with

the power of their bodies in motion. But, she was forbidden from

taking part in the rituals of her people as punishment, since she

dared defy the rule of the elders by leaving the bounds of the village,

and her refusal to enter into womanhood and take her proper place

within the tribe. She couldn’t bare to see the shame in her mother’s

eyes, and she was bitterly pleased that her dearest father wasn’t

alive to witness her dishonor. Yet, she clung to her wanderlust,

afraid of forgetting her dreams, yearning for the excitement of

learning new things, the adventure of going to new places, and

exploring the unknowns of a magical world.

    She couldn’t stand their sidelong glances and accusing stares

anymore, the idle gossip whispered in her presence an ever-present

frustration, and it would always be this way, during every ceremony,

potlatch and family gathering. Hers would be a life of shame, as will

her kin and those of whom she chose, but her deepest pain came

from knowing that their children would also bare the burden of her

disgrace. Everyone thought her only choice was Seneca, since he

shared in her shame, but she feared the resentment he held in his

heart since his return from the world without. She refused to darken

her future in the shadow of his wrath, or condemn her unborn

children to the disdain she’s suffered, as though she were an

outlander herself.

    Then, as if blessed by Gaia, her mind cleared but for her

epiphany, and she knew what she must do. Taking the chance with

the comings and goings, she slipped away from the ceremony, but

watchful eyes pursued her.

Author's Note

What do you think of Leana so far?

Reviews

[Chaos Stone]

oh thats the end of the chapter

[slate41]

I like it so far.