Chapter 4

The tall gates to the village were open and lined with people when we arrived. The scouts that I had glimpsed in the forest along the last couple of hours had reported back to the elders and word had filtered among the tribe.

“You were right,” Bri ran a hand across her forehead and took a long draw of water from little Jes, one of Dumi’s sisters. “Thank you,” she smiled down at the ten year old girl who smiled and then blended back into the crowd gone as quickly as she had come.

Bri looked around at the village and the faces that lined the main street. Some people smiled, others just stared. “You were right,” she turned toward me, “this place is much bigger than I thought.”

My stomach felt like I had swallowed a melon whole and it was sitting somewhere above my waist. I looked over the crowd, making eye contact with more than a few of my sisters. I wanted to gauge the mood of the crowd. I had no way of knowing what they’d been told or by whom, and it had been so long since any newcomer had been to the village, I was desperate to know how we, as a tribe, would feel.

The round, wooden building where the elders sat, the sitwa, was the end of our walk. The crowd closed in behind us and spread out like water against a stone at the building. Everyone was mumbling or whispering now that we had passed and I heard scraps of thought. She’s a nun. Settlers have no business here. Why is she dressed like that? Anu found her in the woods. She doesn’t even know. I thought she would be taller.

Bri heard the same things and looked over at me. “It could be worse,” I shrugged.

At the entrance to the sitwa, one of the village’s guards, Isha, stood watch. His eyes flickered to mine and then to Bri’s. I was suddenly nervous. I wondered if there was some law that I didn’t know about some way that outsiders were handled that I had never heard of. Isha stepped in front of the door. “Only you, Anu.” He gave Bri a stern look. “The elders wish to speak to you first.”

The melon in my stomach grew larger. I looked at Bri. “Wait here. “I’m sure it will only be a minute.” I pointed toward one of the benches that lined the sitwa and gave the villagers a place to sit out of the sun while they waited.

Isha opened the door and the sweet smell of cedar rushed over us. It was impossible to know what was about to happen, but something told me that something wasn’t right. I stepped through the door and the cool air of the room surrounded me. Isha closed the door behind me which left only the light coming through the small windows around the room. My eyes adjusted. The twelve rows of benches that filled the room were empty and only two of the tall chairs that sat behind the elder’s table were occupied. There I saw Soru, Dumi’s mother and the elder responsible for the well-being of our village and Liandra, the elder responsible for most of the administrative rulings of the Juoni. The last seat, the one to the right of Soru, and reserved for the huntress Kuoli was empty as it usually was.

Soru saw me enter and immediately stood and came around the elder’s table. If her smile had been light, I would have been sweating under a noon day sun. “Anu!” I took a few steps and met her embrace. “We’ve missed you so much.” She pulled me close and I smelled Sandlewood and spice.

“I missed you too,” I stepped back and looked up at Liandra who was still seated in her chair, idly writing something down on a piece of paper. “Liandra,” I bowed slightly.

“Anu,” her voice was stiff and formal.

There was no love between Liandra and I. Though we had grown up together in the village and known each other for our whole lives, we had never really gotten along. As the daughter of an elder, Liandra grew up with privilege that the rest of her sisters didn’t have. And when she had stood, after her mother’s death, for the left hand seat, I had cast my chit against her.

Soru touched my shoulder and her smile was replaced with a mask of sadness. “Anu, there’s been an accident.” She reached up and put her hands on my shoulders fixing me in her gaze, bracing me. “Kuoli is dead.”

My breath stopped in my throat and my blood ran cool. I swallowed hard. “What happened?”

“A bear,” Liandra said the word but didn’t look up, “She was torn to pieces. We only found her leg.” The words were monotone like she was reading a list of damages from a storm, not telling the story of an elder’s death.

“A scout came across her remains two days ago.” Soru sat down on one of the benches beside us. “Her pyre burned last night and the village has made you huntress.”

I slowly sat down. My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe that Kuoli was gone. “A bear?” I looked at Soru.

“Yes, you know, large animal, all fur and teeth and claws. It’s probably shitting her remains all over the forest right now.” Liandra’s voice was dripping sarcasm. I didn’t understand why. Kuoli and her had always seemed to get along, even on the council there never seemed to be any disagreements between them. I didn’t understand the animosity, but it felt like an attack on my friend.

“Enough!” Soru’s shouted and her voice echoed around the empty room like thunder.

Liandra sat up straight and eyed the older woman. For a moment it looked like she might say something, but her expression softened and she looked at me with compassion. “I am sorry, Anu. I know she was your friend.”

“Thank you,” I looked back at Soru. “I am sorry I missed her pyre.” It wasn’t the first time I had missed the burning of villagers that had passed. As a hunter, our task kept us away. But missing Kuoli’s passing hit me especially hard.

She was the huntress when I was taken on my first hunt, the person who taught me how to utilize my cat senses - my hearing and vision. After our initial group made it through our first trials which were little more than target practice, it was Kuoli who determined who would move on and who would be: “ ... given the opportunity to choose another service.”

As strong and fierce as Kuoli could be, she was a soft-spoken teacher. A woman who had the patience to teach six blind children below the age of twelve how to leap from branch to branch without the aide of their eyes.

Above all, she was my friend.

Tears filled my eyes before cascading down my face. My sadness rushed free like water when a beaver’s dam gives way. I covered my face with my hands and wept.

Soru laid a gentle hand on my arm. “You will have time to grieve, I promise, but now you must take your chair.” Her words were soft and kind. “The village is waiting.”

I stood and looked over at the empty chair and the long table. Liandra’s gave me a sympathetic look as I walked over and passed her chair. “I am sorry, Anu. She will be missed.” Her eyes flicked to Soru as if she wanted to make sure that the elder had heard her.

In the space of ten or fifteen minutes, the entire sitwa was full, every bench was packed, and there were people lining the walls and jammed into the doorway. In front of them, sat the three of us, Liandra on the left, Soru in the center, and me, the new huntress of the Juoni on the right.

I put my hands on the table and thought of all the decisions that had been made there. I remembered sitting beside my mata and matu on one of the stone benches every time a meeting was called. I remembered Kuoli calling my name when I was given my bow in front of the village and titled as a hunter.

Soru held her hand up and the quiet rumble of voices quieted until she could speak without raising her voice. “Yesterday, we chose the new huntress of the Juoni - Anu. Everyone smiled and nodded, and I heard a few cheers from outside.

I looked across the crowd and the faces blurred from my tears.

“With her today has come an outsider, a woman from the settlements.” Soru nodded and Bri, who was seated at the back of the room, stood and walked to the front.

Every eye followed her and there were more than a few whispers among the crowd. But she paid the people no attention, instead, she focused on the elders and me. I did my best to clear my mind and push the sadness I felt away. Bri and the consideration of her wish to join our tribe was going to be my first act as an elder.

“What is your name?” Liandra asked.

“Briana Stevenson,” Briana stood with her hands at her sides. She didn’t look or sound intimidated or afraid. If anything, she was stoic about her situation.

“Why have you come to us,” Soru asked.

Bri glanced at me and then focused on Soru again. She paused for a moment, like she was trying to decide on the best way to phrase her answer. It was so quiet in the sitwa you could have heard a pin hit the floor. “I no longer wish to be part of the settlements.” Her answer was short and sweet without explanation.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Liandra’s voice was sharp. “We are not in the business of protecting those who seek refuge from the settler’s justice.”

As soon as she said the word justice, the room was filled with whispers. Bri let the moment linger staring at the floor in front of her feet before she took a deep breath. “I want to join the Juoni because I don’t trust what the settlers are doing.”

More whispers and murmurs filled the room. It was no secret the settlers were taking more and more land, spreading out as their numbers grew. They were greedy and thoughtless and it was only a matter of time before our world and theirs met. No one believed that it would be friendly.

Soru’s looked at Bri for a long moment. I could tell that she was measuring the woman in front of her, trying to find out who she was and why she was here.

Soru had been an elder for more years than I had been a hunter. She was our village’s conscience, our spiritual guide. It was her wisdom that kept our village quiet and at peace. It was her guidance that made me proud to be Juoni.

“But why have you chosen us?” Soru asked.

Bri looked at me and then at the old woman beside me. “I ran into Anu in the forest and she helped me,” she looked at me and smiled. “I have studied your people for months and have learned how you live and how you treat each other. I am finished with the greed and hate of my people. I am finished with the lies of their religion.” She looked around at the people that lined the benches of the sitwa. “If I cannot join the Juoni, I will walk to another village and if they will not have me, I will keep walking, but I will never go back to the settlers.”