Christopher Dinsdale's Historical Adventures 4-Book Bundle. Christopher Dinsdale
Читать онлайн книгу.
connects us to Earth and ancestors. It makes us one with all there is. You understand?”
Kiera sighed. Why couldn't she learn the Beothuck language as quickly as Chocan had improved his Celtic? He had come so far, and now he was helping her make sense of this new world. Just as the cross around her neck was her connection to her family back home, the ochre was the link to their Beothuck family. Her thoughts were broken by the stinging bite of a mosquito on her neck. She slapped at it, but it was too late. Her neck now itched as she scratched at the annoying bite.
Chocan smiled. “Also, mosquitoes hate ochre. No more bites.”
“We never had these little creatures in Iceland.” She scowled, then paused. “I'm ready to try the ochre, if it's all right with you.”
Chocan shook his head. “Must wait. The first time, the mark of the band is very important for woman. The mark must be done by woman. We will wait for Sooleawaa.”
Kiera thought about all of the rituals performed by Chocan and Sooleawaa that she had witnessed since being rescued. They always cut and prepared the fish or meat the same way, singing the same melodious chant that gave thanks to the animal for sacrificing its life for them. They always thanked and honored their ancestors and the Great Spirit before drifting off to sleep. They often talked to the trees, wind or animals with whom they shared their forest home. Kiera now realized that these people were actually connected to the forest in a spiritual sense. They were so different from the Vikings, and even her own family who chopped, tilled and planted the world into an environment that was suited only for human habitation.
Sooleawaa returned from the darkness. She was still grinning from ear to ear.
“They had never seen anything like the skirt before. They think you know magic. They think you are a bird spirit, weaving this garment as you would a nest.”
“Thank you,” laughed Kiera, switching to Beothuck. “I am honoured. You think I am a spirit?”
Sooleawaa smiled. “Special, yes. Spirit, no. I saw you stitch the skirt with my own eyes. There was no magic in your fingers. My village, however, did not believe me. They do not understand this thing that you call a needle and this rock, iron, from which it is made. You must show them.”
“Kiera can show them tomorrow,” added Chocan.
“Tomorrow?” repeated Sooleawaa and Kiera, together.
“Our band will be leaving for the Meeting Place very soon. Kiera will have to be introduced to our family before then.”
Kiera reached over and touched Sooleawaa's knee. “Please…put ochre on me?”
Confused, Sooleawaa looked from Kiera to Chocan.
He nodded. “It is time.”
He passed over the bag. Sooleawaa knelt down in front of Kiera. She smiled warmly at her pale friend then began to hum softly, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift off into a trance. Her lips quivered as she whispered a prayer of guidance. Stopping suddenly, Sooleawaa took several deep breaths then reopened her eyes. Her dark, caring eyes locked on to Kiera.
“This is the way of our people,” Sooleawaa explained. “It will be your entry into womanhood. After placing the ochre on you, I will mark you with the sign of a woman. It is also the sign of our tribe, our family.”
“Like this?” Kiera leaned forward and touched Sooleawaa's three triangles above her left eye.
Sooleawaa smiled. “Yes. I will mark you in the same way.”
Sooleawaa again started humming a low, wavering tune that flowed softly, like a gentle summer breeze. It was a melody that Kiera found calming. Kiera closed her eyes as Sooleawaa's hands placed the cool, refreshing paste on her forehead. As her swirling movements moved onto her cheeks and down her neck, the melody was transformed into a poetic song. Kiera shivered with wonder as Sooleawaa wove a tale of marriage, motherhood and love.
Soon, Kiera's exposed body had been entirely lathered in the red stain. Sooleawaa took a cool, thin piece of charcoal from beside the fire and gently pressed it down just above Kiera's left eye. Kiera closed her eyes and allowed Sooleawaa to complete the transformation.
The humming stopped. With the silence, Kiera smiled and allowed her eyes to flicker open.
“How do I look?”
She gasped in surprise. In the faint, flickering light, it appeared that a circular gallery of both old and young spirits had descended upon their campsite. Their unblinking eyes stared at her, assessing her and her new stained look. Chocan materialized in front of the crowd. He opened his arms and, turning to Kiera, introduced the entire assembly.
“This, Kiera, is our band, our family,” said Chocan, proudly. “They heard the song of womanhood permeate the woods. They have come here to welcome you.”
Kiera looked through the silent crowd for a friendly face, but the sea of blank expressions remained. This was a welcome? They certainly didn't have the outgoing friendliness of Chocan and Sooleawaa. Chocan turned to the gathering and spoke quickly in Beothuck. The apprehensive, trance-like state of the onlookers seemed to crack with Chocan's words. There were rumblings among the older crowd, their gazes examining the strange, injured young woman. The younger adults shifted nervously. Some of the children clutched their parents' legs.
Kiera swallowed hard and wished she could disappear. What were they thinking? Would they abandon her in fear? Would they reject her and send her away? Given the grumblings, would her new friends, Sooleawaa and Chocan, now turn their back on her if the band should decide to leave her behind?
Finally, the woman who seemed to be the most elderly of the entire band stepped gingerly forward. Others shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what was about to happen. She spoke slowly in Beothuck, as if for Kiera's benefit.
“Chocan says she speaks with the tongue of the Teachers. She also has been properly initiated in the rites of womanhood. Look, she. has the mark of our band on her temple.” She moved next to the young foreigner and gently touched Kiera's charcoal marking.
Kiera glanced shyly up into the wisest pair of eyes she had ever seen. The leader's face, deeply etched yet full of life, grinned at her in full approval. Kiera noticed the three triangles etched into the craggy skin above her left eye. The woman bent over and placed a bony hand on the side of her face.
“What is your name?”
“Kiera.”
“Kiera, I am Nadie. I am the elder of the band.”
Sooleawaa passed the bowl of red ochre to Nadie, who stirred the mixture with her finger, then brought the tip to the top of Kiera's forehead and traced the shape of a cross. She chanted a phrase too quickly for Kiera to understand, and the gathered crowd repeated the words.
She cupped Kiera's face in her hands. “Welcome, my child.”
“Thank you,” said Kiera, touched by her kindness.
Suddenly, the crowd began to whoop and cheer, shattering the silence of the still forest. Several of the men approached. They carefully lifted the startled Kiera up off the ground. For the first time since her arrival, Kiera left the clearing. The band weaved through the dark forest, shouting and dancing alongside their new family member.
They had travelled only a short distance when the darkness of the forest gave way to the shadowy outlines of fire-lit trees. The trees opened up into a broad clearing filled with over a dozen roaring fires encircled by piles of fur bedding. A shallow, gurgling river lined the far side of the camp. Jutting out from the edge of the water were several strange yet elegant craft made of what looked like the papery bark of a tree. The boats were pointed at both ends and had a sharp wavelike rise along their sides. They were quite different from the skin-covered crafts that the northern skraelings had used to attack her village. Next to the boats were small huts venting thick smoke from a central hole in their domed roof. The air was saturated with the aroma of smoked salmon.
The parade entered the central sitting area. Some