Dream Drive Ch. 02

She found her tipi. Her father's feathered war shirt hung from the outside. Her mother had hung it there when he died, and there it had remained, no matter how many times their tipi was disassembled and reassembled. While the elder disliked the display, Shaka had approved of it, and that settled the matter.

She stared up at his coat. Each feather marked one of his exploits in battle, some painted red on the occasions that he had been injured. He used to sit with her and tell her stories of war-making. His favorite story was painted on the jacket itself. It showed him riding a horse; he had dismounted his enemy, than gotten close enough to tap his shoulder with his spear, leaving him alive - all followed by making his escape through a storm of arrows.

He had died three years ago. But he died well.

The entrance to the tipi was brushed aside. Chaki's mother, Landi, stood there, tall, silent. Her eyes welled up. "My daughter." She paced forward and wrapped Chaki in her arms. "Chaki. Oh, Chaki. Are you a spirit, come to haunt me?"

Chaki hugged her back. "I'm still in this place, mother. I'm home. And Palla, and Shaka, too."

"Oh..." Landi gripped Chaki tighter. "I am so glad that my heart could burst. All to comfort me was your father's spirit, but he did better than that. He delivered you back to me."

"...he sent us a strong warrior," Chaki said. "You will see him, soon."

"Chaki!" Chaki and Landri separated. Boonta was running through the tipis, followed by more than a few others. "Chaki." He stopped in front of her. His head was shaved close, and his body was muscular, giving him a strong, forward appearance. His face was flat, but his chin jutted out wide beneath it. "Thank the spirits. You are whole. What of the others?"

Chaki placed her distaste of Boonta aside. He was still the elder's son, and now was not the time for private matters. "Shaka and Palla are returned as well. As to the others...I do not know their fates."

Everyone murmured audible relief when they heard that Shaka was safe. A band without a spirit guide was a band all but lost. She suspected that they were preparing to fold themselves into the other half of the tribe altogether, come the Meet. Shaka's salvation was the preservation of their individuality.

"You said that your father sent you a warrior," Landri said. "Who did you mean?"

"She meant Jackson Vedalt," Shaka's voice called. The crowd parted as the old woman ambled forward. "Ah, I need a horse. I am too old, too old to walk on feet so long." She moved amongst the people, clasping their wrists and allowing them to welcome her back.

Chaki grinned as Jackson Vedalt picked his way behind her. Shaka might complain, but Jack was in much worse shape. The way he winced as he moved amused her. He was so strong in some ways, but a babe in others.

"Who is this outsider?" Boonta asked. He examined Jack's spear and shield. "This is the warrior you mentioned? I cannot believe it."

"Believe it," Shaka said, "for he is as much a Person-Under-the-Mountain as you, Boonta. Though his name is much too long." She snatched Jack's chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "You will need a new name, Jackson Vedalt, if you are to become one of us. Something shorter, I think."

"Uh..." Jack mumbled something else, but Chaki couldn't hear it.

"Nonsense," Shaka said. "Stand proudly, Jackson Vedalt. You shall make a proud member of our tribe."

There were more voices in the crowd. People parted to allow someone through. It was the elder, and Boonta's father, Yukatan. He had a flat face with small features, like his son, though his skin held more wrinkles. A tall headdress sat on his head, lined with white feathers and dangling with beads. He brushed his hair from his eyes. "Shaka! Thank the Mother Earth and praise each of her stars. And Chaki, and little Palla."

"I'm not little!" Palla protested.

Everyone laughed. Chaki laughed with them. She had a good feeling, then. A feeling that things were somewhat back to normal. Landri smiled, but she gripped her son's shoulder. "Palla. Do not speak back to the elder."

Yukatan smiled at Landri. "Your son's tongue flaps often, but perhaps we needed his words. Shaka...did any others return?"

Shaka shook her head. "Three others were eaten by the disgusting rats. Of Hana and Shale...they were sold to other buyers, as slaves."

"Then the iron men have a connection to the rattok."

"So it would seem."

This set off a chain of whispers and turned heads. Chaki nodded. This was as it shoulder be. It was certain that they would make war, and the iron men be damned for bringing the wrath of the People-Under-the-Mountain upon them. Their vengeance would be righteous.

"I heard something over the gathering," Yukatan said. "That an outsider would be made part of the tribe." Yukatan gestured at Jack. "This man, I presume?"

"Indeed," Shaka said. "I have weighed his spirit, and it is heavy. His is a brave soul."

"No matter the spirit," Boonta said, "an outsider? Part of the tribe? Such is unheard of."

"There are traditions you do not know about, boy," Shaka said. Boonta frowned. Chaki smirked inwardly. Shaka had twice rebuked Boonta - calling him boy, and reserving the use of his name. "My grandmother's time saw such an act. A merchant of the iron men once visited us frequently to trade. In time, he came to love a tribeswoman and lived amongst us fully, and was made a member of the tribe. I believe Jackson Vedalt worthy."

"Hmm..." Yukatan eyed Jackson. Jack was busy examining his feet. "This bravery you speak of seems focused on the ground. Can you not look an elder in the eye?"

Jackson glanced up. His eyes were sharp again. Chaki could see the gears turning in his mind as he stared at the elder. There was tension in the air. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

He looked at her. Chaki shrugged and made a face behind Yukatan's back. Jack made his small smile.

"Elder," Jackson said. He was very slow with his words, careful, plodding. "I...do not wish to...disturb, your tribe. If it bothers you...then, that's fine."

"Nonsense," Shaka said. "You are already in the tribe in spirit. You shall shortly be in name. Is that not so, Yukatan?"

"...hmm."

"Father," Boonta said, "an outsider?"

"Boy," Shaka warned.

"No, Shaka," Yukatan said. "I will hear my son."

Shaka folded her arms, but nodded. Boonta looked to the gathered faces. "Surely, the warrior should be welcome to take his rest, and we should thank him for what he has done." In what was, for him, a show of great respect, Boonta clasped his hands and nodded to Jackson. "But I think it best for all if you go upon your way. The plains are no place for outsiders. It would indeed be a disturbance to the tribe, Jackson Vedalt."

"Who are you?" Jack asked.

"I am Boonta, son of the elder." Boonta gestured to Yukatan in deference.

"Oh. Huh."

And that was all Jackson said. Chaki rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. She would have to handle this.

"Jack has many strengths," Chaki began. She stepped forward, into the small circle holding the other four. She took in the gazes of the gathered people. "But words are, admittedly, not amongst them. He has no need of them. He speaks in actions."

"Your compliments are as backhanded as ever," said Boonta. "I am not impressed."

"Then be impressed by this," Chaki said. "Jack found himself in similar circumstances as us - he was a slave who ended up penned amongst the rattoks, sold off as food. Naked, with naught but his bare hands, he broke loose and fought his way out. Just short of the entrance to the cavern, he found us locked in cages. He could have run - the rattok were right behind him. But he stayed to free us, sacrificing an easy escape to break open our prison. But even then, Shaka's ankle was gravely wounded, and she could not run. We could all hear the rattok closing in, and I thought we were sure to be caught."

Chaki stared at Boonta. "Do you know what he did then, Boonta? Jack remained behind. He stayed and fought them so that we had a chance to get away. When we left him in the cave, alone, I thought it would be the last time I saw him. It was not. He killed the rattok that dared approach him and made such a display of his foe that the others fled in terror. Such is his might as a warrior.

"But that is not all he did," she said. "If that was all he did, then perhaps he would be worthy of a painting, and our friendship, but his deeds did not stop there. Shaka's ankle turned out to be infected. She healed my wounds, but did not heal her own, for she judged herself a lost cause. I was distraught, for I knew I did not have the strength to cure her so soon after our enslavement.

"But Jack had found an essence crystal in the aftermath of his battle. He freely gave this great power to me so that I could save Shaka's life. In saving her life, he saved the soul of our band."

Chaki jabbed her finger in Boonta's face. "Jackson Vedalt has ten times the honor and spirit of any man I have ever met. If he is not one of the People-Under-the-Mountain, than none of us are."

She nodded to herself and folded her arms, pleased with the reactions on the faces around them. Boonta looked taken aback. Yukatan reappraised Jackson with a critical eye. When she saw Jack again staring at his feet, she had to hold in another sigh.

But he caught her eye a moment. He made his smile. She felt her heart flutter, and she was grinning back. She was sure she looked foolish, but she didn't care.

And then she saw Boonta's face. He had not missed their exchange. She sensed trouble, there. Despite her rather public rejection of his advances, he had not given up on her affections, insisting that he would ask her hand once again after he had displayed his honor to her at the Mountain Meet's games.

Shaka made her own firm nod. "Well said, Chaki. It is true that I owe Jackson Vedalt twice all my remaining years, and as you all owe me for protection of your spirits, so then you owe him. We might settle this debt not by casting him as an outsider, but by welcoming him into our midst. Think of the bison!" She gestured past the tipis, out to the prairie. "In the great herds, at rare times, the white bison can appear. It is known well that this color marks the animal as sacred. It is prime amongst its brothers, a sign of forgiveness between us and the lives we must take to feed ourselves, a reminder that even in hunting there is a sacred pact. Jackson Vedalt is like the white bison." Shaka rubbed her chin, considering something for a moment. She looked to Yukatan. "Is it not so, honored elder?"

Yukatan hesitated. The mood of the crowd was with Jackson, but that would force him to go against his son's opinions in public. Everyone knew that he was preening Boonta for inter-tribal politics. Weakening his son's position in the tribe by discounting his thoughts was something to be avoided.

But Chaki could see the change on his face. He'd been backed into a corner. He nodded. "It is so, Shaka."

"Then tonight," Shaka said, "let us celebrate. The spirits are high with this small triumph. We shall keep a feast, but only lightly, to preserve our stores for the Meet, but let there be drums, and dancing. Afterward, elder, we shall meet with Jackson Vedalt in my tipi, and conduct the rite to bring him under the mountain."

"Then let it be so." Yukatan glanced about. "Spread word, to your duties. Let us prepare a feast!"

There was a cry of excitement. The children scurried through the crowd. The women moved off in droves to seek the creek. Water would be needed to slake the thirst of so many, as well as prepare plentiful amounts of soup. The men went for the storage tents to retrieve dried meat and vegetables, as well as the wasna. Shaka always wanted plenty of wasna at the ceremonies.

Chaki looked for Jack, but he was being jumped on by Palla, and it seemed Landri was speaking to him, as well. He was rubbing the back of his neck again. He seemed to have a few habits like that.

Boonta approached her before she could close the distance. "Chaki," he said. His hand intruded upon her shoulder. "My heart sings to see you again. Truly."

Chaki casually stepped out from his attempt at an embrace and kept her response neutral. "It is good to be back amongst the tribe."

Boonta looked over his back at Jack, then back at her. "Were you just exaggerating out of stubbornness, or did you mean what you said?"

"I did not say enough," she said. "It is a story worthy of its own war shirt."

"An outsider will have a hard time finding one of those, don't you imagine?"

"You're right. Perhaps I will sew him one."

Boonta's lips thinned. "...I noticed that you have a different way of addressing him. His name is Jackson Vedalt, is it not? You called him Jack."

"His people shorten names, as a sign of familiarity," Chaki said. Perhaps it was petty of her to enjoy this moment, but she was certainly amused with Boonta's expression. "Shaka calls him Jackson, at times. He allowed me to call him only Jack."

Boonta's frown deepened. "Chaki, I'm...it is...good, that you have a strong relationship with him. If you trust him, well...I will respect your judgement. But it is too much, too soon. We do not know who he is."

Chaki thought to snap that he hardly respected her judgement when it came to his proposal, but she remembered Shaka's words and sat on her pride. She decided to act like Jackson, and gave him only a vague shrug. "He is a good man. Of this, I am certain. Someone of whom my father would approve."

The implication was clear. Boonta stared at her. "Do you mean to say that -"

"Boonta, Boonta!" Palla rushed up to him. "Boonta, come meet Jackson proper. You'll make the bravest two warriors on the plains!"

Boonta glanced plaintively at Chaki. Chaki just smiled. "I'm sure you're right, Palla. Go on, then."

Boonta was pulled toward Shaka, Landri, and Jack. Shaki watched for a moment. The conversation was stiffer than overcooked jerky. She slipped past them and into the tipi.

The warmth of the tipi's fire rolled over her. The summer day was warm, but the constant winds still numbed the skin. It was nice to be out of the elements. She quickly ruffled through their possessions until she found something better than leaves.

Unfortunately, her best dress had been stripped from her during her time as a slave. She was lucky to have not lost more, but it still stung. Hide was always at a premium. The embellishment, though, of feathers, and beads, and bone...that took place over years. She remembered working on her dress while she was seated around the fire with the older women. When her father died, she poured herself into sewing to distract herself. It was in those moments that she learned how to stop being a girl and become a woman of the tribe.

She lifted her old dress from their clothing pile near the back of the tipi. It would be small on her, and short, but it was still better than leaves. She stripped the broad greenery away and pulled the dress on. She smoothed back her hair.

Her father's wealth was left behind in their horses. They owned six horses, only one less than Yukatan himself. Perhaps she would cajole her mother to trade one for a good stock of hides, from which she could work a new dress. That would provide material for her to sew something for Jack, too. And they could stretch the trade, include more foodstuffs, herbs and vegetables for their soups. They hadn't had much variety of late.

She sighed. Only just home, and thinking about the household already. She should leave it to her mother and focus on her training with Shaka. A dress could wait. But she did want to work on a shirt for Jack...

The hollow bones at the tent flap clacked together. Chaki looked over her shoulder. "Yes?" Boonta pressed through the flap without answering. Chaki huffed and folded her arms. "And if I was undressed, Boonta?!"

"Then I would have begged for forgiveness. My apologies, Chaki. I wanted to speak to you."

"I had thought our conversation finished."

"I thought it barely started."

"You thought wrong. What is it that you want?"

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Boonta circled the fire and planted himself in front of her. Chaki did not move, and did not look away from his stare. "I thought you were dead, Chaki. I wept where the others could not see. I cried your name into the night. Would the sun have died, I would have welcomed it."

"Melodramatics do not suit you, Boonta, and they do not appeal to me."

"I saw you looking at the outsider."

"And what of it? Does the mighty Boonta now decree that I am not allowed to look at people?"

"You know what I mean!"

"What you mean," she said, "is that you want my eyes upon you, and not other men. I thought I had made myself clear, Boonta."

"Chaki, I love you," Boonta said. "Your visage makes me ache to hold you."

He raised his hands, as if to follow through with his comment. Chaki titled her head. "Do not." He forced his hands to drop. "I care not for your lust. As Shaka has told me many times, youth fades. Would you love me if I was an old, wrinkled woman?"

"What I feel is not lust!" Boonta said. "My heart pines for you. When you were gone...I cannot live without you."

"Boonta," she said, more gently, "my answer was no. It remains as such. I cannot accept your affections."

They fell silent. The remnants of the fire crackled in the center of the tipi. The hide walls fluttered about as a wind passed them by. The smoke swirled in the air.

"Why?"

"...my reasons are my own."

"I cannot be satisfied with that!" Boonta said. "You shoved me away without a reason before. Tell me why. What have I done to earn this, this enmity, from you?!"

"It isn't enmity."

Boonta ignored her, continuing to rant. "Do you think I am not man enough - that I would not give you strong children? Have I somehow soiled my honor, or dirtied yours?"

"Boonta, I cannot."

He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, hard. Too hard. "If Mother Earth should die and the sun kill us all in its grief, woman, I must hear this!"

"It is not what you have done," Chaki said. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him back. "It is what you have not done!"

Boonta let himself be shoved away. He blinked, lost. "What?"

"When the men go to hunt," Chaki said, "who lingers in the camp most often? Boonta. Boonta does, because he thinks himself too grand to hunt, for he is the son of the elder. When our enemy, the iron men, threaten our lands, who argues that we should do nothing? Who feels that we should give way like rotten wood? Boonta. When the hard decisions must be made, and the warriors gather to speak, who waits for his father's word before chiming in? Boonta!" He opened his mouth to speak, but Chaki cut him off. "Yes, I hear plenty of what happens in those meetings, given to me through the wives of other warriors. And what do they say? They say that Boonta is too sheltered under the big tree of Yukatan, and that while his back is strong, his spirit is weak. And most of all, you petulant child, when I was a slave, when I was stripped bare and my back laid open with whips, where was Boonta? Ah, yes! Now I recall! Crying over his losses at the edge of the creek!"

Boonta's mouth opened and closed. His throat worked. "I...Chaki...it isn't like that."

"It is," Chaki said, "and that is why I rejected you. I wanted to spare your feelings, but you insisted on knowing. I will hope the truth of the matter does you some good."

"You have me wrong," he said. "I will show you. Just you wait! I will show you honor that is a hundred times what that man possesses! You will see that I would be worthy in your father's eyes!"

"I don't feel much patience at the moment," she said. "Now get out of my tipi. And if you touch me again without my permission, I will break your fingers."