Kewarratiwa's Story Page 3

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  When I had finished eating, I got a drink, kneeling in the mud and scooping water in my hands. I straightened up and folded my hands over my dirty wrap, waiting for the man to do or say something.

  He seemed to be thinking hard. his expression reminded me of my brother...I could have laughed--or cried. Finally he held a hand to his chest and said, "Ottavar." He waited, watching me.

  "Aw-ta...bar," I said, the strange sounds coming awkwardly from my mouth. But he smiled, patting his chest and repeating the name. I tried again, a little better. Then I did as he had, touching myself and saying my name.

  "Ke-wa-rra-ti-wa," he said, with great seriousness. "Kewarratiwa." He smiled, and said something in his own tongue, and then my name once more. I nodded.

  He stood and stepped away from the boulder. With his right hand he beckoned to me. He took a few more steps and beckoned again. I thought, he wants me to follow him. All right, I will. He knows I am here, helpless, alone. There is no point in trying to run and hide.

  I was too tired, and tired of waiting to die. I rose, straightened the filthy hide that was my only possession besides my digging stick, and walked toward him. He nodded, smiled, and with another motion of his hand he led me onward out of the riverbed.

  We walked for some time. He would stop to look back, see that I was still there, and go on. I saw smoke ahead, and at last we came in sight of a small group of tents.

  There were men, women, and children, all calling and waving their hands. The man who had led me here stopped. He called out something to the others. There was some shouting back and forth, and then a woman came toward us. She and the young man embraced. Then she took a step toward me.

  "Hai, Kewarratiwa," she said. "My name Tevina."

  I was taken by surprise once more. Even though her pronunciation was muddy, she could speak a little of our tongue. Blinking stupidly, I essayed her name. "Teh-bee-na," I said, knowing I had done poorly. But she smiled, so warmly that my heart fell over and my eyes were blinded with tears.

  I felt Tevina's arms encircling me. I leaned against her and gave in to my grief altogether.

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  "She's sleeping," Tevina said in a whisper. Sherilana smiled and motioned for her to sit down.

  "Poor little pippin," Brinavisti said. "Lost, is she? Or...."

  Lovaduc shrugged. "We'll scout around tomorrow. Could use some fresh meat anyway. You find any signs, Ott?"

  Ottavar, who had been staring into the fire with his chin on his clasped hands, raised his head. "I'm sorry. I hadn't even started, when--" he made a wry face and hitched his shoulders. "I'd even forgotten the word for 'name'."

  Tevina chuckled at him. "You did well enough, bringing her back."

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  I remember the singing, and the drum. Ottavar must be a spirit-talker, I thought. I was a little afraid again, then, though it was silly. They couldn't know. Anyway, he must talk to the spirits of his people, not of mine. All of them sang together, a sweet sound, before the tea that Ottavar brewed made me too sleepy to notice any more.

  When I woke, Jesumi lay close with her arm over me. Later, I learned that she was Ottavar's sister. Even then, when we couldn't talk together, she was my best friend among my new people, like a sister to me.

  Day followed day. I learned more of their speech, and they learned more of mine. I learned that they called themselves the band of the white horse. It was then that I remembered a dream that I had while I was wandering, of a white horse with the sun caught in his mane. I have never told anyone else of this.

  They had looked for my people, I was told, but found no trace of them. That was good, in a way. At least they found none dead. There was no time to search long and far because the band was seeking a new home. We traveled many days before they came to a place that they liked.

  I helped the women gather food and firewood, carry water and wash clothes. The men were very respectful. The children helped me to learn their speech while playing games. I missed my own family, but I knew that many if not all of them were dead. That was sad, but I could not bring them back. A new day had come in my life. I was coming to love these tall people even though members of their tribe had killed so many of mine.

  By the time the first winter lodge was built, I had begun to accept them in my heart, to think "we" and "us" instead of "I" and "they".

  I noticed, by this time, that Ottavar was sometimes uncomfortable around me. Also he would be looking at me when he thought I wouldn't notice. I did the same. Sometimes I almost laughed when our eyes met and we both had to look away suddenly. Despite his connection with the world of spirits, he was not a frightening person. His voice was gentle, his eyes kind. He was also not so bad looking, for one of the tall folk.

  One day I asked Jesumi if he had a claim on any woman. She said that he wanted me. I was glad that we were outside fetching wood. My face was on fire.

  "He won't touch you if you don't want him to," she told me. All I could do was hide my face in my fur cape and shake my head. I did want him to.

  "Ah. I'll tell him you don't..." She turned toward the lodge.

  "No!" I found my tongue at last. "No, don' say that. Please not," I babbled at her in my poor mixed speech. 'I want--I--I say later. Not that." My head felt like falling off, like when you spin too fast in a wind dance.

  Jesumi had turned around. She smiled, dropped her firewood, and hugged me. I didn't have to say more.

  As for the rest of the story, you know it well enough.

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