Winter's Tree

26 - Bones and Shells

Rain pattered against the top of her tent, the occasional rivulet making its way inside to run down along the length of the age-worn hide and pooling at the bottom, turning dirt into mud. Across from her sat Oyeka.

"You were not at the meeting this morning," she said.

He plucked at the frayed edge of her sleeping mat. "No, I was not."

"How can you lead the people if you do not know what is going on?" she asked.

"I will not," he said simply.

She frowned, and he looked up at her, eyes serious.

"The people already have a leader, Ayessa. You."

"You are Atua's son, and eldest," she protested.

He crossed his arm over his knee and regarded her solemnly. "The people love you, Ayessa, and the other Chieftains trust you. You have had months to get to know them, where I would need to start at the beginning."

"Besides," he added, with a sly look, "why would I want the trouble when you have already lifted it from my shoulders?"

She threw a pebble at him and he laughed.

His eyes turned serious again. "I am always here to share your burden though, sister, should you need an ear."

She smiled and leaned forward to touch him on the arm. "Thank you, Oyeka."

He hesitated a moment, then said, "You heard of Makaro and Tebia?"

Her mouth tightened. "I have."

"I am sorry."

She shrugged. "Maybe it is best this way."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "There will be other men, more worthy of you."

She laughed, and then, to change the subject, she said, "What of you and Umeke then?"

Oyeka sighed, "I suppose I will need to do something with him."

***

"I have something for you," Eshemwa said.

She looked at him quizzically as he reached behind his back to dig through his furs. Turning back to her, he dangled a necklace off of one finger.

Hesitantly, she reached out and took it from him. Made of bone and shell, it clinked together as she ran her fingers along its length.

"It's beautiful," she said simply.

"It belonged to my mother."

"How come you have not asked me to share a tent with you?" she asked.

He blinked at her sudden question, clearly caught off guard. Prehaps it was why he answered so honestly with his next breath. "Because you do not love me."

The answer lay heavy between them and she could think of nothing to say to ease it.

"Eshemwa," she said finally, but he cut her off.

"Don't." His eyes met hers, and she was reminded of the first time she had fought him. A rabbit against a wolf.

"Why do you ask now?" he said, a hint of anger in his tone. "Is it because Makaro has taken Tebia to his?"

She bristled. "Do you think I place such small value on you? On us?"

He sighed, the anger seeping out of him. "I do not know."

They were quiet for a moment, only the sound of crickets filling the night air.

"You use me to get back at Makaro," he said. Not as an accusation, but as fact, and it stung all the more for its truth.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he lay two fingers across her mouth.

"Do not lie to me, Ayessa," he said. "I am many things, but not a fool."

She held her tongue and after a moment, he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"I find it very hard to mind, when you are lying there in your skin, though, so perhaps I am a fool after all."

He pulled her close to him and ran his thumb down, along her spine. "I love you, Ayessa. I only tell you now because tomorrow we might die. You are the best part of me and if you do not return, the rest of my life will be empty."

She tilted her head back to peer up at him. She opened her mouth, and he once again covered it with the tips of his fingers.

"I want no false words. I ask for none. Say nothing and let us spend this last night together.

She reached up to run a finger along his cheek.

"I can not say I love you, but I can not say I do not either. Does that satisfy?"

He smiled one of his rare smiles, the hard contours of his face softening. He kissed her finger. "It does."