Chapter 11: ...to face the truth and accept the consequences

Seduced by the cadence of her breathing, Jakal dozed, his cheek nestled in the silky cascade of Sala's hair. The young woman's deep, dreamless sleep, a result of the magic contained in the old healer's concoctions, provided a respite to them both, relieving her of the pain accompanying her waking moments, and bringing him brief periods of stolen slumber.

Despite his exhaustion after two days of little rest, the Light-Eye resisted all offers to spell him of the near-constant care his mate required. Only the Fox Clan's spiritual leader held sway sufficient to tear him away from her side and even then only for a short while.

Still, he knew he must depart soon and track down the man who attempted to kill her. The Spiritwalker may have perished as a result of his injuries, but Jakal had to see it with his own eyes. No matter what, he would ensure the shaman never touched her again.

A melee of shouting jarred him awake. Certain the disruption was significant, the Light-Eye broke his own rule and left her alone, rushing outside.

He discovered his people pressed together in a tight mass, crying out in confusion, their voices growing louder and louder. His heart pounding as a streak of energy rushed through his body, Jakal pushed through the noisy crowd, fighting to uncover that which he already knew lay ahead.

Flanked by Belak and Dosat, the Spiritwalker stood with arms pulled behind his back, his eyes wide and darting with alarm at the upheaval surrounding him. His body was filthy, covered with dirt, scratches and streaks of dried sweat. His lopsided face, hastily wrapped with long strips of animal skin, swelled hideously.

The Light-Eye scarcely noticed his condition. Overcome by rage, he acted on instinct, and before anyone knew what was happening, his hand wrapped around the shaman's throat.

Women and men alike shouted, pulling at his arm, his body, begging him, demanding him to stop, but he neither heard nor saw them. The Spiritwalker rasped, pleading for his life as Jakal denied him of breath.

Thrown backwards with great force, the young man landed with a grunt against the inner perimeter of the crowd. Stunned, he looked down to see an enormous hand pressed against his chest, holding him stationary.

"Stop, Jakal."

Lifting his eyes toward the man towering above them all, Tejed, the great Leader of Fox Clan, peered down at him with an expression both kind and serious.

"That is not our way, young Light-Eye."

A sharp whistle cut through the cacophony.

Keta stood in the center of the throng, arms raised, calling for quiet. "My people, you must remain calm. You can see for yourselves the Spiritwalker is injured. Before doing anything we must tend to his wounds. Please, go back to your dwellings; I promise we will gather as a Clan soon."

Reluctantly the people of Wolf Clan dispersed. Clustering in front of dwellings, they gossiped and speculated and debated the greatest controversy to face their people in many generations.

Acts of violence were known to occur from time to time, but by and large they were a peaceful people, preferring to solve differences through debate or humor or over cups of fermented beverages. The brutality inflicted upon Sala was extreme and exceedingly rare, so rare even the eldest of the elders had no memory of incidents like it. But never before had a Spiritwalker been suspected, let alone accused, of perpetrating such an offense.

Though Tejed's massive figure prevented Jakal from attacking the shaman, it did little to cool his anger.

Keta placed a hand on the young man's rigid arm. "When I asked the others to go back to their dwellings, that included you as well."

"I am not letting him out of my sight, not as long as he breathes."

"Then who will look after your mate?"

Startled, he turned around. The old Spiritwalker hobbled toward them, peering at Jakal with her shining black eyes.

She glanced at the shaman. "Your Clan Leader is correct; the Spiritwalker's injuries must be attended to."

"Why? He deserves death."

"Perhaps. But this is not the time to make such determinations. Now go, young Light-Eye. Go to your mate."

He hesitated, torn.

"Jakal, I promise you, the Spiritwalker is going nowhere. I will ensure he is confined at all times."

"I do not wish to go anywhere, Clan Leader," the shaman interjected, breaking his silence. "I cannot even remember how I ended up outside the settlement."

"Quiet." Belak jabbed him hard in the back with his elbow. "It is all right, Jakal. Go home to Sala. I will take the first watch."

Dosat glanced sidelong at his companion. "Keta, I believe it might be helpful to speak with the Lead Hunter about organizing the men into shifts. I am confident the other Hunters would be willing to help."

She nodded. "I agree. Please, find Nerin; tell him I wish to speak with him right away." After the Hunter left she addressed Belak. "Are you certain you wish to take on the first watch? You must be tired after traveling all day."

"Thank you for your concern, Clan Leader, but I am fine."

"That may be. But I must tell you I am concerned about acts of aggression against—"

"You are worried about his wellbeing? What about my mate's? What of her safety?" Jakal blurted.

"Neither of you need worry about anyone's safety," Tejed cut in. "I will join Jakal's friend on the first watch. Do not forget my people's spiritual leader will be in his company this night; I have no intention of leaving her alone with him."

"Sala's dressings will need to be changed soon, child. I suggest you return to her side before she wakes."

Even though the old woman was right, Jakal could not help feeling a little manipulated. He nodded tersely.

"If you wish it, my friend, I can stop by your dwelling as soon as my watch is over. I would like to see Sala, and perhaps we could discuss everything that has happened since we parted company."

"I would appreciate that, Belak. It does not matter when you come." He stared at the Spiritwalker until he looked away. "I will not be sleeping."

Upon returning home Jakal found Sala moaning quietly. He raced to her side.

"I am with you, my sweet woman," he crooned, slipping his fingers between hers. With his free hand he caressed her bruised face. "Are you in pain?"

She shifted her body and winced. "Not much."

"It is a little early, but I think it would be all right to give you your next dose."

Sala made a face, remembering the taste. "No, I wish to wait." A groan escaped her lips as she tried to sit up. "Will you help me, my mate? I am hungry and wish to spend some time in your company."

After Jakal gently lifted her into a sitting position the young woman reached out her hand, exploring the landscape of his face with her fingertips. His eyes flitted closed, savoring her sensual touch.

"I have missed our pleasures," she confessed, her voice quivering. "More than anything I want to feel you against my skin, feel you inside me."

The Light-Eye groaned, his manhood tightening. "It has only been a few days," he teased, "but I, too, miss our shared pleasures." He took her hand in his and kissed her silky skin. "I have some soup Nefa brought over earlier. Give me a moment and I will put it over the fire to warm."

"Jakal," Sala began when her mate returned from the other room, "there is something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Of course. What is it?"

"The Spiritwalker told me you would not come for me. He said he had allies who had given you magic which would prevent you from finding us. He obviously was lying to me, for you did come, but the thought of him having allies among our people worries me. The Spiritwalker is a liar, but he also mixes the truth in his lies. Do you ... do you think there are people in our Clan who are working against us?"

"In this instance he did not lie to you." Jakal sat on the edge of the platform and cleared his throat. "I was given something, a beverage containing powerful magic which sent me deep into the Spirit World. But Veba forgot to add all of the ingredients—"

"Veba? But why? Why would she do it? I know she does not like me, but why would she want to hurt you?"

"I do not know that she wanted to hurt either of us. I think the Spiritwalker did something to her, made her feel she had no choice. When I figured out something was wrong and confronted her, she seemed genuinely afraid of him."

"Has anyone spoken to her, questioned her? She must know things which would help us."

"She is ... not well. The old Spiritwalker describes it as a waking sleep. She believes Veba drank a combination of powerful magic, including, perhaps, what had been intended for me. She cannot speak, nor hear, nor see others even though she is awake. I am sorry she is in that ... condition, but I am grateful her forgetfulness prevented her from doing the same to me. It was difficult enough searching for you in the Other World."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I believe more than ever the Spirits led you to the sacred mushrooms. If we had not taken the sacred journey together, I never could have found you."

Sala pressed herself against him. "I did not know what to believe, but I had hoped, if it were true, that our shared experience would help you withstand being sent there without your knowledge."

The couple spoke for a time about the events which transpired during their separation. As more details unfolded, they grew ever more convinced of the Great Spirits' intervention on their behalf.

"Now that we have spoken," she said, smiling at her mate, "I feel confident the Spirits are protecting us. Perhaps you were right, and the Spiritwalker is dead. How could he have survived injured, without a fire?"

Jakal's neck and shoulders went stiff, tension drawn tightly across his face.

"Jakal, what is it?"

He took a deep breath. "He is not dead. Belak and Dosat captured him; he is here, at the Camp, under guard."

Reaching for his hand, Sala shook as she struggled to stem her rising fear. "In my heart, I knew he was not dead, that this time would come," she admitted, voice quaking. "What ... what are they going to do with him?"

"He is badly injured where I struck him in the head with the paddle. Keta insists he must be treated before questioning. The Fox Clan's spiritual leader is with him now, as are Tejed and Belak. I intend to see to it the Spiritwalker's stay is brief."

"What are you planning to do?"

The Light-Eye stood up. "It is time to change your dressings. I need to steep the herbs and prepare a new poultice for your leg." Lifting her hair, he kissed her neck. "I will be right back."

Sala sat quietly, watching her mate at work in front of the hearth, troubled by his lack of response to her question. She knew she could not bear to live among their people if the Spiritwalker were permitted to stay, but she also wondered if Jakal could bear to live with the consequences of what he was considering.

The Spiritwalker grunted in pain while the old woman worked in silence, cleaning the dirt from his wounds.

She had not spoken to him since his arrival. The sight of Sala had filled her with great anger, but for the sake of the people, who were already in turmoil, she restrained her emotions and channeled her energy into healing the young woman. Still, her counterpart never strayed far from her thoughts, and she considered often the many things she wished to say to him. But now that he sat before her she found herself lost for words.

He broke the impasse.

"Thank you for your kindness, my—Ahh!"

"Humph. Must have dug a little too deep," the old woman muttered.

On the other side of the room, Tejed, attempting to turn a laugh into a cough, snorted. Unmoved, Belak stood next to the burly Leader, eyeing the injured man with suspicion.

The flap covering the entrance lifted.

"How is he, Spiritwalker?" Keta asked.

"The gouges in his face are deep, festering a bit, but I have cleaned them. I believe the cheekbone may be fractured. If it were an arm or leg I could make a cast or splint it, but there is little I can do if a facial bone is broken beyond managing the pain until it heals."

"Will he be able to eat?"

"I assume so; it will likely be very painful. We should probably start out with thin soups and other foods which can be eaten without chewing."

"What does any of this matter? We should not even be treating his injuries, let alone worrying about his pain."

"We do not yet know what he does or does not deserve, Belak, but we are not a cruel people. If we are going to learn the truth, it should not be under duress."

"Clan Leader, please," the Spiritwalker interrupted, "everyone speaks as if I am not here. But I am here, and I am every bit as confused as the rest of you."

"Stop with this game—"

Keta raised her hand, silencing the Trader. She addressed the shaman. "Dosat tells me you claim to be missing memories from the last several days."

"Yes."

"And yet you clearly did not forget everything, correct? You know who you are, and who we are."

"Yes. I am the spiritual leader of Wolf Clan, and you are its Leader. These two are our counterparts from Fox Clan. And the angry young man over there is Belak, our people's Lead Trader."

Belak snarled and took a step forward, only to find himself blocked by Tejed's thick muscular arm.

"And do you know Sala?"

"Sala? Why, yes. She is my Inten—I mean, she was once my Intended ... right?"

Keta nodded. "Do you remember why she is no longer your Intended?"

"The Light-Eyed One referred to her as his mate. I can only presume I ... released her from her obligation to me?"

"I am not sure if I understand, Spiritwalker. You remember all of us, you remember who you are, but not only do you not remember things which have happened over the past few days, you are now saying you do not remember things which occurred over the last two moon cycles?"

"I do not know what I am saying," he admitted, slumping his shoulders. "I feel I should remember some things, and I sometimes have vague feelings about them, but nothing beyond that."

The woman carefully studied his face. "Have you any 'feelings' about Veba?"

The Spiritwalker sat up a little straighter. "I know I am very fond of her. Wait ... is she ... is Veba the reason Sala is no longer my Intended?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I am not certain. All I know is when I think of both young women, I have very powerful feelings."

"Describe these feelings."

"I ... I am not sure that I can, Clan Leader."

"Stop this nonsense!" Belak cried out. "Can you not see this is a trick?"

"Tejed, would you please have one of the Hunters come in to take Belak's place?" Keta turned her attention to the young man. "I understand you are angry, but your outbursts are not helping matters. Spend some time with your family, get some rest." He opened his mouth to protest. "This is not a request, Belak. Now, will you go, or must I have you removed?"

Glowering at the shaman one last time, the Trader stalked out of the dwelling without a word.

Sala had just fallen asleep when Jakal heard the thwacking of the bones.

He lifted the flap, his eyes widening with surprise. "Belak. I did not expect to see you so soon."

"Keta made me leave. She said my 'outbursts' were disrupting her conversation with the Spiritwalker."

The Light-Eye raised an eyebrow. "I see. Please, come in."

"How is Sala?"

"She fell asleep only a short time ago. She had some soup, and we talked for a while, which is a good sign. It was the first time we had spoken at any length since ... since he took her."

"May I see her?"

"Of course."

The two men crept into the sleeping area. Even in the dim light Belak could see Sala's swollen face and arms, her skin blanketed in cuts and bruises.

He gasped. "It is even worse than I feared."

In response, the Light-Eye moved his mate's arms and lifted the furs, revealing the rest of her shattered body.

"By the Spirits ... I am sorry, Sala," Belak whispered, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. "I do not understand how Keta can even consider the Spiritwalker's claim that he has no memory of harming your mate."

Jakal flinched. "Come, let us speak around the hearth and allow my mate to rest," he said, tucking the soft pelts back around his woman.

"Have you any fermented beverages?" the Lead Trader asked when they entered the living area.

"Yes."

"Good. I could use some."

The two friends sat in front of the fire, drinking cup after cup of the intoxicating brew while they exchanged stories.

"So now he claims he does not remember why Sala is no longer is his Intended, let alone trying to kill her," Jakal said bitterly. "How convenient."

"I agree. What troubles me is he is very convincing."

"Why did he come back at all? Surely he cannot believe he could remain Spiritwalker after this."

"He needed his wounds treated, and fresh provisions; when we found him he mentioned his food bag had been scavenged. Losing his memory is the perfect way — the only way, now that I think of it — to return home and not be immediately cast out. But surely our Leader would never allow him to remain among us."

"I will not allow him to remain among us. If Keta permits him to stay, I will have to kill him. But even if she decides to banish him, I will still have to kill him, just to be certain he never harms Sala or anyone else again."

"I think a lot of people will have a problem with that, Light-Eye."

"What would you do if someone did to Yaja what the Spiritwalker did to my mate?"

"I would kill him," Belak answered, draining his cup.

The next day, Keta, Tejed and the Fox Clan's Spiritwalker settled around the hearth to discuss the previous night.

"As members of the same caste, you have had many dealings with our spiritual leader," the Clan Leader began, looking at the old woman. "You were also close associates with his predecessor, the man who accepted his petition and guided his training. You have less direct experience with our Spiritwalker," she went on, nodding at the other Leader. "However, you have always possessed an uncanny ability to see the true meaning behind the words of others. I would appreciate your perspectives."

"Both his injuries and Sala's are consistent with the story told by the young Light-Eye," the Spiritwalker noted. "I have no doubt he committed the acts for which he has been accused."

Keta nodded. "I agree. Too many things have happened in the last two moon cycles which, put together, lead me to that conclusion. What is your opinion of his claim that he has lost much of his memory?"

"As a spiritual leader, he has knowledge of instances in our people's history where individuals lost all or portions of their memory following a traumatic injury or event. Feigning such a condition provides a convenient means of escaping responsibility for his actions."

"So you believe he is lying?"

"I do."

The Leader looked at Tejed. "What is your impression of the Spiritwalker?"

"I agree the evidence points to his guilt. As far as his memory loss, I cannot say for certain whether or not he is telling the truth. I have detected no deception in either his words or manner, but he is very skilled at guarding his thoughts and emotions, more so than most. He strikes me as a man very accustomed to living in a world of secrets."

"You said you 'detected no deception' in his words or manner. Could you elaborate on that?"

"Well, while you were questioning him last night, his eyes did not waver when he talked about his condition. When an individual is being deceptive they usually avoid eye contact. Considering the scrutiny he was under, he held his body fairly 'loosely', which usually suggests to me someone with nothing to hide. The emotions he did display — fear and confusion — remained consistent. Now, it does not mean I am correct, and there is something about him I cannot quite—"

Crack! Crack!

Keta sighed. "Enter," she called. "Ritol. I am glad to see you made it home safely. If you have not already heard, Jakal was able to locate Sala and bring her home."

The young man, his body travel-stained with sweat and dust, nodded, his face sober. "Yes, upon our arrival we were informed of Sala's status. But that is not the reason why I am here. I wanted to inform you that in our travels we encountered another party. They were on their way here and accompanied us back to the Camp."

"Who is it?"

"Me," a low, rich voice replied from behind the flap. The Trader stepped out of the entryway, replaced by a tall, well-built man with long black hair. Scattered streaks of grey at his temples accentuated the tattoos under his bold green eyes.

"Well, Spiritwalker, I am here. Tell me what is so important that you would summon our entire caste with no explanation."

Back held straight and tall, the Spiritwalker strode across the Camp toward the dwelling of the Wolf Clan's Light-Eyed One. Women and men alike gaped as he passed, turning their heads to follow his every step. The corners of his mouth curled upright, barely concealing his mirth. Despite the inconvenience of his colleague's summons, the attention he garnered upon visiting a sister Camp never failed to delight him. He looked forward to making the acquaintance of many during his stay.

Given the status bestowed upon them by birth, for a Light-Eye to seek a position of leadership among their people was hardly unheard of. Even so, becoming a Spiritwalker took years of study and training, and there were only so many positions available at any given time. As a result, a Spiritwalker who was also a Light-Eyed One remained a very rare occurrence.

Due to the distances between settlements, Spiritwalkers, for the most part, worked autonomously. However, they did come together, wholly or in part, on a number of occasions each year for shared discussion and meditation, and to walk the Other World.

Officially, the Spiritwalkers did not have a leader and resolved contentious matters through persuasion and consensus. Nevertheless, the reality that some members held more sway than others had not been lost on the Owl Clan's spiritual leader, and as a Light-Eye he knew he was, perhaps, the most influential member of an already-powerful caste.

Jakal sat behind Sala on the sleeping platform, combing her wet hair after bathing her with herbs and soaproot steeped in hot water. It was not the simplest endeavor, even with use of numerous watertight baskets borrowed from friends. But after his mate complained about her inability to wash her greasy locks at the stream, he decided to surprise her with something he hoped would be even better. Her sighs of delight as he massaged the fragrant, heated mixture into her scalp and through her black hair had made it worth the trouble.

While her damaged leg remained painful, the rest of her aching and tender to the touch, they were beginning to see signs of progress as her body slowly healed from its trauma. The swelling in her face and body had finally gone down. Except for where she had been stabbed in the thigh, her wounds had closed, covered over with fine scabs. Bruises were just beginning to lighten and change color.

She still had a long way to go, but day by day she was getting better.

Sala sighed with contentment. "Have I mentioned you are the most wonderful, thoughtful mate a woman could ever have?"

He grinned and paused to kiss her neck. "Once or twice."

"As soon as I am well enough, I am going to show you just how grateful I am," she promised, leaning into his kiss.

Moving up, he suckled a lobe and lightly dipped the tip of his tongue in her ear. "I look forward to it," he whispered.

Her nipples tightened as a shiver rippled through her body. "Mmm. Oh, Jakal, I want you so much. There has to be some way we can—"

Thwack! Thwack!

"Enter," Jakal called out.

Sunlight streamed in as the flap opened. Both mates started upon sight of their latest visitor.

The Spiritwalker raised his hands. "Please, remain seated. I wished only to speak with you for a time, to see how you are doing," he explained, directing his comment to Sala.

"I am feeling a little better each day," she replied, trying not to stare at the Light-Eyed spiritual leader.

"I am glad to hear it. I understand you have endured a great deal. I am sorry for your suffering."

Her cheeks grew warm. "Thank you."

"The others tell me your name is Sala. If you will permit me, Sala, I would like to examine you so that I might get a sense of the extent of your injuries."

She nodded.

"You are Jakal, correct? Jakal, it would be easier to examine your mate if she is lying down."

The Light-Eye crawled off the platform and turned to help lower his mate onto her back only to discover the Spiritwalker already doing it. He felt a twinge of ... he was not sure what it was.

The shaman removed the furs covering the young woman and sucked in his breath. "By the Spirits." He cradled her cheek. "My dear, there are no words adequate to express the sorrow I feel, seeing you in this condition."

His eyes and hands traveled the length of her naked body, scrutinizing every wound, every bruise. Jakal watched the skin on Sala's chest rise with tiny bumps, her nipples stiffening in response to his touch, and he felt his own chest grow hot. The way the Spiritwalker looked at her, touched her made him uneasy. He thought he had imagined it, the way the man's green eyes barely left his mate's since the moment he entered, but now he was not so sure.

The young Light-Eye blinked and saw the spiritual leader looking at him, speaking his name.

"Jakal, I need to take a look at Sala's leg wound. Will you assist me in rolling her onto her stomach?"

"Can you not simply lift her leg?" he asked, not particularly thrilled with the prospect of the shaman ogling and handling the rest of her body.

"The leg is of primary concern, but not the only one. Your assistance is most appreciated."

Reluctantly he helped lift and turn her over.

After examining her stab wound, the Spiritwalker moved on to the top of her body, starting with her neck and shoulders. His hands were easing their way down Sala's back toward her buttocks when Jakal blurted, "The spiritual leader of Fox Clan did not examine her as closely as you, and she treated Sala's injuries."

The shaman's hands stopped moving but did not leave her back. He turned his head toward the young man. "Given the extent of your mate's injuries, my fellow Light-Eye, I suspect there were few areas of her body that my colleague did not touch." Returning his attention to the young woman, he asked in a soft voice, "When the Spiritwalker did this to you, did he harm you in ... other ways as well?"

"No!" Jakal exclaimed before she had a chance to respond.

This time both Sala and the Spiritwalker looked at him in surprise.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I am examining your—"

"You are doing more than that. I am not blind."

Sala gasped.

"What precisely do you think I am doing?" the shaman asked, looking Jakal straight in the eye.

"You are touching and looking at her in an intimate way. You are a spiritual leader and what you are doing is inappropriate and shameful."

The Spiritwalker faced the young man head on. "After the ordeal your mate has been through, it is understandable you would feel apprehensive and mistrustful of those in my caste."

"It is not your caste. I feel no 'apprehension or mistrust' toward the Fox Clan's Spiritwalker, for she has done nothing to earn it."

"She is also an old woman. I am a man, like your Spiritwalker. On top of that, I am a Light-Eyed One. I would imagine that might be unsettling for you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"As the only Light-Eye in your Clan, you are accustomed to being treated differently, even though you do not like it. Yes, I know. Your brother is a member of my Clan; Jesin and I have spoken of you on many occasions. There are so few of us I have made it a point to familiarize myself with my fellow Light-Eyed Ones. But even if I had not, in many ways your experience is my experience. We are all used to being treated differently.

"For you, more than most of us, being a Light-Eye makes you uncomfortable. I, on the other hand, experience no such discomfort. I represent many things which cause you conflict. Taken as a whole it is no wonder why you would assume the worst of me."

The Spiritwalker turned around and leaned toward the young woman. "I think it would be best if I leave. Thank you for your patience, Sala." He looked at Jakal again. "I am sorry if my actions have made you uncomfortable. It was not my intent. I hope at some point during my stay you might set aside your mistrust, if only for a time. It is not often I have the opportunity to be in the company of another like me."