Intended Ch. 11

"Me? Why would our Leader think Veba will talk to me?"

"Well, when she was trapped in that...long sleep, the Fox Clan's Spiritwalker discovered some injuries on her body...injuries not unlike your own."

Sala and Jakal exchanged a knowing look. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "I will go see her this day."

"With respect, Keta, holding this meeting before the rest of my colleagues arrive is a mistake. Whatever his crimes, this concerns the spiritual caste, and excluding them from this process will only complicate matters. If you would only wait a few more days—"

"I cannot say I blame the Clan Leader for wishing to move forward," the spiritual leader of Fox Clan cut in, shaking her head. "Their involvement, or should I say, lack of involvement, is what allowed him to maintain his position in the first place. If all of you would have listened to me, perhaps we could have prevented this tragedy."

The Light-Eyed shaman looked at his white-haired counterpart. "It is easy to look back and think about what might have been, Spiritwalker. It would do you well to keep in mind that had you spoken to the rest of us with respect instead of derision, perhaps you would have discovered more of us willing to listen."

She snorted. "I am sorry the plain truth was too much to handle. Perhaps if more effort had been focused on the spiritual wellbeing of our people rather than—"

"Spiritwalker, please!" the Clan Leader interrupted. "Both of you. When my Clan's spiritual leader returned, I promised my people that we would meet to discuss what happened as quickly as possible. They grow restless for answers. The rumors spreading throughout the Camp tell me they are confused, afraid and angry.

"You would have me wait until the other Spiritwalkers arrive," she said, addressing the Owl Clan's shaman, "and yet you know as well as I do it will be more than a 'few days' before everyone gets here. I am not going to make my Clan wait that long.

"The spiritual aspects of this matter I will leave you to debate. But these are my people, my Clan, and it is my decision. The meeting will go on as planned."

The green-eyed man nodded. "Of course, Keta. I never meant to imply the decision was anything other than yours." He paused. "If I might ask, will your people's spiritual leader be attending this gathering?"

"It is my intention, yes."

"Then I would request that you allow me to stand with my fallen Brother in his defense."

"Wh-what?" the old woman sputtered. "Even you believe he is guilty! How can you defend what he did?"

"I do not 'defend' what he did. However, he has offered up a defense which, if true, would explain why he committed such an abomination."

"How can you not know he is deceiving you? Are you that foolish?"

He smiled. "Once again you speak as if I am a child rather than your equal. Of course I realize it may be a deception. It does not change the fact he deserves to be heard." Turning his eyes toward the Clan Leader, he asked, "Have you decided what you intend to do with my colleague?"

"Not fully. However, no matter what motivated him to attack Sala, I do know I cannot allow him to continue as the Wolf Clan's spiritual leader. Too much trust has been lost. I cannot risk another incident of such brutality from someone responsible for our people's physical and spiritual wellbeing. After everything, I do not see how he could remain at our Camp at all."

"I see. If I might ask, are you considering a...harsher punishment as well?"

"As I suggested, relocation to a different Camp may be an option. However, if the Spiritwalker is a dangerous individual, I dare not put another Clan at risk for the sake of my own. If that is indeed the case, banishment must be considered. It is not a decision I take lightly. That is why it is important I discuss this with my Clan. How they feel about the matter is something I must take into account when making my decision."

"And that is why it is just as important he have the opportunity to defend himself. A man's future, his very life is at stake, Keta. Surely what I am asking is not unreasonable."

With a self-satisfied smile the Light-Eyed Spiritwalker held out the beaded leather pouch.

"My medicine bag!" the Wolf Clan's shaman exclaimed. "How did you manage to get it from her?"

"It was not easy, and required a lengthy debate. In the end she agreed to allow me to give it back to you. Of course, our colleague first removed those items with the most potent magic."

The spiritual leader's eyes darkened. "What good is my bag without the magic I need to relieve my pain?"

"Calm yourself, my friend. I have provided you a selection from my own supply. While it will not replace all you have lost, you will at least have enough to ease your discomfort between regular doses."

"My apologies; I should have known you would come through for me. Thank you."

"I am happy to help." The younger man settled on the floor opposite his companion. "Now, there is something else I must speak with you about."

The Spiritwalker wrinkled his forehead. "What is it?"

"Your Leader has decided to hold a meeting with your entire Clan the day after this one to discuss...recent events and your involvement in them."

"She cannot!" he protested. "The rest of our caste will not be here for days. I will be unprotected if our people choose to believe I was responsible for harming Sala. You must change her mind!"

"I already tried, but she is convinced waiting will make matters worse. I must admit she has a point. Naturally, your confinement has prevented you from observing your people, but I will tell you their unrest is obvious. From what I have seen they speak of little else. It may be better to tell them your side of the story before you completely lose credibility."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"As I said, your confinement has prevented you from observing your people, but the opposite is also true. Apart from a few individuals such as myself, Keta and our colleague from Fox Clan, your contact with others has been limited to those who have been guarding you, while everyone sees Sala every day. If you saw her as well, perhaps you would understand why it occupies your people's thoughts."

"If what you say is true, then how I am to expect they will even listen to me?"

"That is why I am here. I have informed your leader I will advocate for you on behalf of our caste. I will tell you the truth; I do not know if I believe you were overtaken by a dark spirit. Still, you deserve the opportunity to be heard, and let us face it -- as a Light-Eye, my representation provides you far more credibility than you would have alone."

The Wolf Clan's spiritual leader scowled. "Your doubt hardly fills me with confidence you will provide a vigorous defense."

"Would you rather I speak untruths to make you feel better? If my assistance is not needed, I am happy to withdraw it."

"Of course I am grateful for any help you can provide," the shaman quickly responded. "I am simply frustrated."

"I understand. I do not wish to add to your...frustrations, but you should know your Leader has already decided you will no longer serve the Wolf Clan as its spiritual leader. She believes, and I must agree, that without their full trust one cannot serve the spiritual needs of one's people."

The Spiritwalker clenched his jaw. "I cannot say I am happy about that, although it does not surprise me. I suppose I will join one of our Brethren when you return to your own Camps?"

The Light-Eye pursed his lips. "It is possible, but it would be best not to speculate at this point."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you not understand you may be banished from our people?"

"Banished!" the shaman sputtered. "Are you telling me if that occurs my Brethren will not support one of their own, that you will not support me?"

"I do not know what the others will do. I do not even know what I will do. But you need to understand if Keta chooses to cast you out and we fight her decision, it puts us into direct conflict with all Clan Leaders. Given what you are accused of doing—"

"So in other words it does not matter whether a dark spirit is actually responsible for harming the female, I will be forced to suffer the consequences."

"As I said, I think it best not to speculate right now. That is why I am defending you, to give you the opportunity to remain among our people. So let us focus our efforts there. Now, before we get started, I would like to make a suggestion."

"Go on."

"I understand this situation is upsetting for you. But you come across as angry, and not particularly sympathetic to Sala's suffering. If you want your people to believe your explanation, you must show remorse. Apologize to Sala at the meeting; acknowledge that even if you do not remember harming her, you deeply regret how terribly she has suffered."

"Very well," the Spiritwalker replied, gritting his teeth.

The green-eyed shaman studied the other man's face. "You do regret what happened?"

"Of course. It is just...difficult to apologize for something I have no memory of doing."

The Light-Eye sighed. Somehow he doubted his sincerity. Defending him would be difficult, especially since he was becoming increasingly convinced that a malevolent spirit had nothing to do with his associate's actions.

Walking stick in hand, Sala hobbled across the settlement.

"Careful, my mate; try not to put too much weight on the leg," Jakal reminded her.

The young woman glanced up at her anxious mate and smiled. He had wanted to carry her to Veba's dwelling, but she insisted the exercise would be good for her. In return he insisted she take her time and not push herself too hard.

Along the way they encountered a great many individuals, all of whom inquired about her health. They urged her to let them know if she needed anything at all and offered their best wishes for her continued recovery. Time and again she choked back tears, nearly overwhelmed by their care and concern.

After the mother of her mother died, she often felt alone -- a member of her Clan, but not really one of them. Now she wondered how much her sense of isolation had to do with closing herself off from them.

Everyone had believed Mala's death resulted from her own foolish choices. Sala had known better, but could offer nothing to prove her assertions. She felt powerless and frustrated, and, convinced no one would ever believe her, had given up before she even tried. So when she stood before her people to speak of her painful experiences at the hand of the Spiritwalker, it would be as much for the memory of her mother's mother as it would be for herself.

Just before they reached Veba's dwelling, the young woman turned to her mate and said, "I think it would be best if I spoke with Veba alone."

"Why is that?"

"I do not want her to feel she must 'defend herself' and I think if there are two of us that is more likely to happen. Also, she did try to prevent you from coming after me using powerful magic. Even if the Spiritwalker forced her to do it, seeing you so soon after it happened might increase her anxiety."

"That makes sense. But do you not think seeing you will provoke a similar response?"

"I do. But if she was also abused by the Spiritwalker, that gives us something in common to build upon."

Whispering good luck wishes in her ear, Jakal kissed Sala's cheek and moved some distance away, out of sight, while she waited for Veba to come to the entrance.

The flap lifted.

"S-Sala. Wh-what are you doing here?"

She smiled. "Hello, Veba. I was hoping I might speak with you this day."

"About what?" the young woman asked, her eyes darting.

"I think you and I have something in common, something no one can understand unless it has happened to them. It would be nice to have someone to talk to who can relate to how I feel."

Veba bit her lip. Finally, she nodded and held up the flap. "Come in."

The day had grown long before Sala finally emerged. Jakal, who had been sitting with friends outside Yaja and Belak's dwelling, rushed across the common area to meet her.

"You were in there a long time," he commented, slipping his arm around her back for support.

"She is very frightened," she replied wearily. "It was difficult convincing her to talk to me about her experiences."

"Did she...did she agree to tell the others?"

"She has two conditions; I must speak with Keta about them now."

"What are they?"

"First of all, if our Leader does not banish him, she must force him to leave our Camp permanently."

"That seems reasonable. He deserves to be banished outright."

"I agree. At first she insisted she would only speak if our Leader promised to banish him. I explained that while I agree he must be cast out, it is our people's harshest punishment. From Keta's perspective, she must consider everything before making such an important decision.

"I finally persuaded her when I pointed out that if our people heard both our stories, I was confident they would demand his banishment. I also told her we were not the only ones he hurt, and by coming forward, we would be encouraging others to do the same."

"You said there were two conditions; what is the other?"

"The Spiritwalker must not be there when she speaks."

"Do you think Keta will agree to them?"

Sala stopped and looked at her mate. "Jakal, we must convince her to agree. If the Spiritwalker is not forced to leave, you and I have already agreed to leave ourselves and find a new People. I am sure Tejed would welcome us to stay with his Clan until spring. But that choice is not so easy for Veba; she does not have a mate who will go with her, protect her. If you could have seen her...she is terrified of what the Spiritwalker will do to her if he gets the chance.

"We need her to talk to our people. Seeing me and sharing my experience should be enough to persuade them, but we both know how clever he is. He cannot fool the others so easily if there are two of us telling similar stories. I do not want to leave our people, my mate, and I cannot let Veba down."

He kissed her. "We have come this far, my woman. I promise, one way or the other, no one will be forced to leave because of the Spiritwalker."

Sala knew then her mate had not given up the idea of possibly killing the shaman. The realization filled her with mixed emotions. She did not want the man she loved tormented by memories of taking another's life. But after what she and Mala and Veba and perhaps others suffered because of their spiritual leader, she wondered what else could be done with someone so dangerous. What if he were banished and managed to survive, to find another People? Who else would have to suffer until he was stopped?

"Are you certain you will be all right? I am more than happy to stay with you."

"Thank you, Letan, but you have done so much already. I will be fine on my own."

Veba smiled as the Toolmaker left; she wondered what had gotten into him lately, although truthfully his attentive behavior did not displease her.

Although Keta and the others asserted the shaman was in no position to harm anyone, the young woman could not yet bring herself to share furs with another, even if only for sleep. In her darkest dreams the Spiritwalker escaped his captivity and immediately sought her out, satisfying his pleasures before mutilating her, or worse.

Her heart stabbed by fear, once again she wondered if agreeing to share her story with her people was such a good idea. But Sala had been so kind, so understanding Veba almost felt she had to do it. Even though she nearly died, Sala did not blame her for what she had done to contribute to the Spiritwalker's scheme. She was not certain she could have been so forgiving.

Still, she placed all her hopes on the young woman's assurances that her testimony would truly make a difference, would ensure the shaman could never hurt her, or anyone else, again.

The last time they spoke he threatened, no, promised, to implement the harshest of punishments should she disappoint him. Without question she was grateful for his failure, she also recognized this made her a bigger target than ever.

After learning she shared pleasures with Letan he beat her with such severity she lost consciousness. He brutalized Sala to the point of nearly killing her. What would he do next should he have the chance? She did not want to know the answer, but she sensed, somehow, she had not seen the last of the Spiritwalker.

The Spiritwalker lay atop the furs, staring at the curved, crossed boughs above his head. He hoped the rest of his caste would arrive soon, for he planned to persuade one of his more sympathetic colleagues to allow him to stay at their Camp. After his latest conversation with the Light-Eye, it became clear -- he needed their protection, and the sooner he left the settlement, the better.

While much of his memory had indeed been stolen from him, what the shaman did not reveal was that it had since been restored. It started out gradually at first, beginning the morning after his return to the Camp -- he supposed having his wounds treated and his pain reduced helped ease the shock of his head trauma, thus aiding his recovery.

He soon discovered the more he reflected on what had been missing, the faster the rest came to him, and by the following morning he recalled everything. Even so, he understood well enough that his interests would be best served if everyone continued to believe he could not remember. Bringing up the possibility of a malicious spirit overtaking him added yet another layer of deniability.

It was not always easy to sublimate his true feelings. He found it especially difficult whenever he thought of the sympathy the female garnered by displaying herself all over the Camp while he was trapped here in excruciating pain, denied of sunlight and fresh air. What of his suffering? Her mate even tried to kill him and, he was certain, would attempt to do so again.

With the right strategy he could start afresh with another Clan, perhaps even retain his position. If he was forced to step down, he did not know how he could bear to live under one of his associates. His tattoos would serve as a constant reminder of his status as a fallen leader; it would be bad enough to be seen in such a manner by the other Spiritwalkers, but for the common people to perceive him in this way seemed intolerable.

Still, the shaman could no longer deny that one outcome grew ever more likely -- banishment. From the traders who visited the Camp over the years, he knew of two neighboring Peoples, and he had a general idea of the location of one settlement. At the same time, they lived very far away -- nearly a moon cycle's distance -- and he was no Tracker. He did not know how he would find them, an especially troubling prospect with seasonal changes already underway. And to be forced to travel with his injuries...

The Spiritwalker's stomach churned. He hated succumbing to fear; it made him weak, impeded his ability to solve problems. If he could just convince the Clan Leader to let him relocate to another Camp.

Wait. If my female testified on my behalf, it might be enough to sway the decision in my favor. Without a doubt she failed me and deserves death, but if I mate with her, she will owe me her life. She will be so grateful, she will probably be eager to defend me. And if not, it will not take much to convince her. She yields to me so easily, he thought, his manhood twitching.

He would see her this night, long after the Camp quieted, and remind her, in more ways than one, that she belonged to him. Slipping out would require the use of a little magic; thankfully, his Light-Eyed associate, self-absorbed and overbearing as he was, had come through for him.