drifted to a figure to one side and behind the Karun tribe and I could see immediately by the fear on her face that she was afraid of the man.
“This Karun tribe has shaman,” she whispered.
I followed her glance. Behind the Karun clan, just beyond the fire’s brightest reaches, stood an old man with wrinkled flesh covered in glistening black pigment or grease. He wore a darkened mask made from plaster or mud with large white pig’s tusks that jutted from the mouth and deep holes drilled for eyes.
The deep pits in his mask seemed to look through me.
For a moment I found myself swallowed by those black holes. I was suddenly so terrified that I couldn’t move. It was as if they were sucking me into an abyss of horror deeper than my fear for my own life.
What kind of evil hid behind his eyes I could not know, and I forced myself with great difficulty to avert my stare.
It took me a moment to settle my mind. I had just found some courage. I couldn’t afford to lose it so quickly.
Three tribes, three princes, one shaman. I wanted nothing to do with the last.
“Tell them I must know who’s the most powerful among the three princes,” I said.
“I think this is not good.”
And yet I knew most leaders to be brokers of power above all else, and I knew that if my father had found himself in an argument among three powerful men, he would have played them against each other until he saw some weakness to exploit.
“It’s the way of my people,” I said. “I can only address the most powerful when telling my secrets.”
The speaker demanded to know what was going on and Lela gave them an answer. They discussed the matter briefly.
“Did you tell them?” I asked.
“No, miss. I only say that you have very important secrets.”
“Why didn’t you say what I asked?”
“This is not good. There is much trouble for you.”
“Tell them I need to know their names before can I tell them my secrets.”
When she told them, the speaker for the Karun tribe objected in the most strenuous terms, spitting on the ground to accentuate his point. When he’d finished, Lela was visibly shaken.
“What did he say?”
“He say you are evil and will use names to speak evil. He say your eyes are the color of the sky where this evil spirits fly.”
A somber silence settled over the gathering. Again I had a strange sense that everything I was seeing was a mistake. This could not be happening to me. I was in a world in which talk of spirits and evil trumped all else, and I had firmly planted myself on the wrong side of that world. I silently begged God to save me, though he hadn’t paid any attention to my prayers thus far. I felt utterly powerless.
A soft but certain voice spoke to my right. One of the Impirum.
All eyes immediately turned to a man with strong cheekbones and gentle eyes. Well muscled without an ounce of fat. Wide woven bands wrapped around his biceps, his neck, his waist, his thighs, and his calves, each bordered by blue body paint. His headdress was exquisite, fashioned with blue and black feathers that protruded from a beaded yellow band.
But it was the way he looked at me, with a sure yet amused expression, that struck me the most. Here was a man who found me interesting. Perhaps only in the way a cat might find a ping-pong ball interesting, but that was far better than the way a cat finds vermin so.
In that look I found comfort. And I was sure that only a very powerful man could command such respect.
The man looked at the ancient shaman behind the Karun tribe leaders and asked a question. To a man, those gathered stood in perfect silence. After a moment’s pause the masked man dipped his head just barely, but enough to make his approval clear.
“This shaman says I will tell you their names,” Lela said.
She quickly asked the council something, heard the answer, then told me.
“I will speak. At this time the chief is called Isaka, from the Impirum. This two prince of Isaka blood.”
So the
“This Karun tribe has shaman,” she whispered.
I followed her glance. Behind the Karun clan, just beyond the fire’s brightest reaches, stood an old man with wrinkled flesh covered in glistening black pigment or grease. He wore a darkened mask made from plaster or mud with large white pig’s tusks that jutted from the mouth and deep holes drilled for eyes.
The deep pits in his mask seemed to look through me.
For a moment I found myself swallowed by those black holes. I was suddenly so terrified that I couldn’t move. It was as if they were sucking me into an abyss of horror deeper than my fear for my own life.
What kind of evil hid behind his eyes I could not know, and I forced myself with great difficulty to avert my stare.
It took me a moment to settle my mind. I had just found some courage. I couldn’t afford to lose it so quickly.
Three tribes, three princes, one shaman. I wanted nothing to do with the last.
“Tell them I must know who’s the most powerful among the three princes,” I said.
“I think this is not good.”
And yet I knew most leaders to be brokers of power above all else, and I knew that if my father had found himself in an argument among three powerful men, he would have played them against each other until he saw some weakness to exploit.
“It’s the way of my people,” I said. “I can only address the most powerful when telling my secrets.”
The speaker demanded to know what was going on and Lela gave them an answer. They discussed the matter briefly.
“Did you tell them?” I asked.
“No, miss. I only say that you have very important secrets.”
“Why didn’t you say what I asked?”
“This is not good. There is much trouble for you.”
“Tell them I need to know their names before can I tell them my secrets.”
When she told them, the speaker for the Karun tribe objected in the most strenuous terms, spitting on the ground to accentuate his point. When he’d finished, Lela was visibly shaken.
“What did he say?”
“He say you are evil and will use names to speak evil. He say your eyes are the color of the sky where this evil spirits fly.”
A somber silence settled over the gathering. Again I had a strange sense that everything I was seeing was a mistake. This could not be happening to me. I was in a world in which talk of spirits and evil trumped all else, and I had firmly planted myself on the wrong side of that world. I silently begged God to save me, though he hadn’t paid any attention to my prayers thus far. I felt utterly powerless.
A soft but certain voice spoke to my right. One of the Impirum.
All eyes immediately turned to a man with strong cheekbones and gentle eyes. Well muscled without an ounce of fat. Wide woven bands wrapped around his biceps, his neck, his waist, his thighs, and his calves, each bordered by blue body paint. His headdress was exquisite, fashioned with blue and black feathers that protruded from a beaded yellow band.
But it was the way he looked at me, with a sure yet amused expression, that struck me the most. Here was a man who found me interesting. Perhaps only in the way a cat might find a ping-pong ball interesting, but that was far better than the way a cat finds vermin so.
In that look I found comfort. And I was sure that only a very powerful man could command such respect.
The man looked at the ancient shaman behind the Karun tribe leaders and asked a question. To a man, those gathered stood in perfect silence. After a moment’s pause the masked man dipped his head just barely, but enough to make his approval clear.
“This shaman says I will tell you their names,” Lela said.
She quickly asked the council something, heard the answer, then told me.
“I will speak. At this time the chief is called Isaka, from the Impirum. This two prince of Isaka blood.”
So the
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