Winter's Tree

8 - What Lies in Wait

He ran a thumb across the inside of her arm as his mouth nestled into the soft space between her neck and shoulder. He was so close his eyelashes fluttered against her cheek.

She laughed and tried to push his head away, but he resisted and growling playfully, he nipped her with his teeth.

From nearby, a twig snapped, and Makaro released her, putting distance between them just as Eshemwa broke through the underbrush.

He eyed them flatly, but whatever he thought, he kept to himself.

"Obu wants you with Yaoum and Akouma," he told Makaro. "He says drive the beasts towards the sun, where we will be waiting."

Makaro left without even a glance towards her. They had told no one they were lovers, and Makaro insisted it was better that way. If they shared a tent, he had said, she would have to give up her spear in place of babies. A thing both of them knew she didn't want just yet. They could wait, he said, until the time was right and they were ready. She had agreed reluctantly, but now, watching Makaro leave, she wished he would at least look at her.

"You. Jarai," Eshemwa said.

Ayessa collected her spear and followed. "Where are we going?"

"Obu says you will be at the front today. With the spears."

Her heart swelled. With the spears. It would be her first real hunt. Makaro had had his early in the summer, but Obu had held her back until now.

Eshemwa paid no attention to her private jubilation.

"You will wait here," he said, pointing to a place among the trees. "I will be to the east, and Umeke is further to the west. When you see it, shout, and we will come. Keep your spear centered and do not miss."

He did not wait for her acquiescence, his long-legged stride carrying him swiftly through the woods until he disappeared again from sight. He made not a sound and it occurred to Ayessa that perhaps his stepping on a twig earlier had not been accidental. She didn't think she would tell Makaro. It was unlikely Eshemwa would speak of what he saw. If he saw anything at all.

The waiting was tedious. She couldn't see the sun through the canopy of leaves overhead, but she could sense its slow crawl as it inched it's way along the sky. The knuckles of her hand where white from gripping the wooden haft of the spear so tightly. Mentaly berating herself for her nerves, she released her grip and wiped her sweaty palm on her tunic. To the south came the sound of the hunters as they ululated and rattled spears against trees, trying to drive out the beasts.

There was a rustling in the underbrush to her left and, hands once more wrapped around the spear, she moved towards it. She tried to be as quiet as Eshemwa had been, but her feet were not quite as practiced.

A boar, large enough to come almost to her hip, came crashing out of the brush. Face to face with it now, she found her tongue frozen to the roof of her mouth. She could not have shouted even if she had remembered too. Half a fraction to slow, she lowered her spear, but only grazed the top of the boar as it charged past. She staggered as one tusk ripped a hole in the side of her leg.

Dropping to her knees, she placed both hands over the gash, blood seeping between her fingers. It was deep, but not fatal.

The boar barely slowed as it circled around awkwardly, its lumbering form turning to face her once again.

Releasing, her leg, she groped for her fallen spear, only just getting the flint tip between them as it charged. The point pierced its flesh, and the wooden haft snapped under the weight of the boar, but it was not a killing blow.

Trapped now, under the boar, she struggled to keep the tusks from her face. With her good leg, she tried to kick out it's hind feet, but she knew she had little time. She was losing, and she was losing fast.

From her left, she heard someone shout and a spear drove into the boars neck. She rolled out of the way as the creature fell, thrashing onto the ground.

Above her, Eshemwa stood, hands still gripping the haft of his spear.

"Did I not tell you to shout?" he said.

She lay on the ground still, trying to catch her breath. "I forgot."

He snorted and wrenched his spear from the boar. "You forgot."

Rolling to her knees, she tried to rise, but the pain in her leg made her stumble back down.

Eshemwa approached and squatted in front of her.

"Let me see," he said.

Gently, he removed her hand from her thigh and examined the wound.

"It is not so bad," he said, after a moment. "Taboua can take care of it. Can you walk?"

She gritted her teeth and forced herself upright. She could stand, after a fashion, if she didn't rest much weight on it.

"Fool," he muttered under his breath, then louder, "Here, lean on my arm."

She reached for his arm, but he firmly caught one hand and placed it back over the tear in her thigh.

"Keep one hand over your wound," Eshemwa said. "It is important to stop the bleeding."

She nodded, and together they stepped away from where they stood. "What about the boar?"

"I will ask Umeke to come for it," he replied.

It was slow going, the walk back, and when Ayessa's arm began to tremble from holding herself up, Eshemwa removed his arm from her grip and wrapped it under her shoulders, holding her up while bracing her against his chest.

She had never been this close to a man other than Makaro, and she found the experience unnerving. She could feel the heat and firmness of his chest against hers, but where Makaro was warmth, Eshemwa was ice. Even this close, he held himself apart, eyes facing forward, body stiff and indifferent.

"I am sorry," Ayessa said.

Eshemwa did not look at her when he spoke. "It is not your fault. I told Obu you were not ready."

Anger rose in her, swiftly followed by shame. It did not help that he was right.

They did not speak after that, until they reached the main hunting party.

Oyeka spotted them first, and rose with a hurried shout.

Eshemwa leaned down and said quietly into her ear, "We do not have to tell them the whole story."

Surprised, she raised her eyes to his.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "My first hunt, I fell down a ravine trying to stalk a buck and broke my nose."

"I remember you breaking your nose," she said. "Taboua scolded you for three days."

"Yes. I would have preferred to keep the broken nose, I think."

"Ayessa," Oyeka said, close enough now to speak without shouting. "What happened? Are you well?"

"She is well enough," Eshemwa answered. "A small mistake, but we will eat boar tonight."

Oyeka grinned and clapped her on the shoulder.

Ayessa felt guilty as the other hunters congratulated her, but she pushed it down and forced a smile.

Makaro, staying at the back of the crowd, was the only one who didn't look pleased.

Eshemwa slipped his arm from around her and let Oyeka take her.

Oyeka looked at her leg and winced. "I hope you like grinding aharai, sister, because that is what Taboua will have you doing until your leg heals."

Ayessa sighed. It was a small penance to pay, she supposed.