“Isn’t that Ghali?” she asked, pointing to her pet lamb.
“It is!” Gidea looked about, pouting. “Our men are useless! We leave for half a day and they allow the animals to escape! And now…with the third moon, there is little time to call them back home.”
“Why fear?” Ktwala spun around on her heels and made a gesture that took in all the Wheel Clan lands. “Sisters, we’re in Wheel Clan lands. The Wheel Clan, our ally, will anchor our longhouse here. Tomorrow our flutes will call our animals home again.”
In the distance, near the entrance of the Iden longhouse three Wheel Clan warriors stood looking out toward the forest. Maharai asked, “Shall the Wheel Clan warriors stay in our longhouse tonight? How shall we sleep with men boasting of their kills?”
Gidea laughed. “Oh wondrous our new life will be!”
The aged Nunu dance and sang,
“New life for us now.
New life for our women.
New life for Ktwala.
New life for the Iden Clan.
The Wheel Clan has conquered the night.”
They continued homeward, singing, Ouis racing ahead, overtaking Psal and Ephan who lingered along the way. Maharai hurried after him. Then a hand from behind a bush snared her foot. In the dark, Jion’s voice, an almost inaudible whisper:
“Little Spider, we are entrapped.”
“Old Jion!” Laughter as she kicked at the bush, chiding. “Hiding in the grass? Come, come, drunken one! Tonight the Wheel Clan warriors, our new allies, will teach you to keen our tower! And you lie there—”
She bent low and her voice left: Old Jion’s face was bloodied. He lifted himself slightly, then fell into the grass again.
“We…should not have trusted them,” Jion said. “Our brothers…murdered.”
Maharai could only reach those women who were close to her. She called them. They quickly gathered round. Terror struck, they held onto each other. Old Jion was lying in his blood. Meanwhile, the Wheel Clan warriors, already alerted by their singing, peered into the darkness.
“Ktwala,” Gidea whispered, “your new husband’s clan has destroyed us all.”
Maharai knelt beside the old man, held him close. “Old Jion, hold to life.” But where was Ouis? She stood to her feet, looked about. Past leaves, past boulder, no sight of her brother.
“Escape.” Jion’s voice frail, his tone futile, his eyes already looking past Maharai into the other world. “They want to steal you. Escape. Into rocks and caverns. Or be scattered.”
The women looked about at each other. Nunu was too old to run fast, other women carried small children. One was pregnant. The rest were little girls too young or too fearful to escape the Wheel Clan warriors who were almost upon them.
Words spoken in the Peacock dialect but tinged with the Wheel Clan accent called out.
“Your warriors are conquered but young boys are safe inside.” A scarred warrior approached them. “Attempt to flee, and they will die. Return with me and your children will live.”
Unseen by the Wheel Clan, on the right side of the longhouse, Ouis’ small arms made a stabbing gesture to his throat: All inside are dead. All.
The women trailed behind the Wheel Clan warriors, but some—urged on by Gidea—tried to escape. Some to the Wheel Clan fields, some to the hiding places in the Iden storerooms on the right of the longhouse where Ouis stood beckoning. But more Wheel Clan warriors appeared. The women fleeing were immediately overtaken. All but four were captured. Only Ktwala, Janda, Delo, and Maharai would join Ouis inside the secret entrance.
* * * *
Janda and Delo fled to the hidden compartments in the Salt room, the nearest to the secret entrance. Shaking, weeping, Maharai allowed her mother to push her inside the tiny wall of the granary.
“Don’t cry”—Ktwala’s whisper sounded even more distant in the dark room.—“All will be well. We will be well.”
Ouis was hastily hidden in the wall opposite Maharai’s. In the darkness, Ktwala’s hands warned her: Stay here. Keep yourself covered. Don’t leave until I come for you. Don’t worry for me. I’ll find a place to hide. Such animated, desperate gesturings. There were no hiding places nearby, none. Ktwala slipped out of sight, leaving Maharai struggling to stop her frightened panting. Both her breath and her body rebelled against her control. Flushed with fear, she tried to convince herself her mother was safe and determined to wait. Then footsteps approached her hiding place. She tensed. The door in her wall opened and Ouis stood before her, weeping.
“Why didn’t you stay hidden?” she chided and reached for him.
He began to speak but the room was flooded with torch-light. Strong hands grabbed both her and Ouis and dragged them into their gathering room. There, the bloodied bodies of her slain clansmen lay, dying or dead. Her grandfather’s nearly headless body lay crumpled near their useless keening room. Gidea and the Iden women stood weeping. Janda and Delo as well. Maharai searched the faces of her sister. Her mother’s face: not seen.
The king didn’t look at her long. He was speaking in the language of the Wheel Clan to the studiers who seemed to be defending something, someone, themselves—Maharai didn’t know. A loud blow across Psal’s face needed no translation. Psal stumbled backward and fell to the ground as the king, with bloody hands, beckoned to Netophah at the entrance. Flanked by two warriors, Netophah approached and pushed Ouis to the ground. The king shook the pain of hitting Psal out of his hand, and turned to Maharai.
“Where’s your mother?” He asked her in her own tongue. He looked down the hallway to the room where Maharai had been found. “Ktwala is here in this longhouse, is she not? In one of the secret compartments you Peacock people are so adept at creating?”
Maharai trembled as children do when they’re afraid or cold, and shook her head so vigorously only a fool would have believed her.
The king signaled the torch-bearers, spoke words the girl did not understand, then spoke to her again. “Don’t worry, I won’t burn the longhouse over your mother. But I will find her. Do you understand me?” He beckoned to Lan who immediately drew near, then he faced Maharai again. “Girlie, I asked this warrior to separate you and your brother from the male little ones. Why did you not listen to him?”
She could not speak.
“Your brother’s death is your own fault, do you understand? Sparing the life of a male enemy is something we Wheel clan warriors never do. I have appointed death to all Iden men found in your longhouse, yet I was willing to spare him. You understand that now I cannot allow your brother to live?”
She flung herself at his feet. The king pushed her away and Lan held her firmly by the shoulder.
“If you kill him, Nahas,” she shouted. “I will kill you.”
The king gestured to Netophah. How gently Netophah had touched her in the cave! But no such gentleness was found now when the golden-haired, crescent-eyed prince pushed Ouis to the ground.
