“Speak, Beautiful Flowers. I attend you,” Old Mother said. But the words spoken by Beautiful Flowers were not the ones she expected.
“The hunters of Hart Tribe, Works Flint Tribe, and Weaves Wool Tribe have put aside their weapons and their staffs of war and have made peace with Salt Tribe, Weaves Baskets and Cloth Tribe, and Makes Beads and Dries Fruit Tribe. Eagle Tribe, Hunts Harts Tribe, and Fishes the East Sea Tribe have sent their warriors to make peace as well.”
“Why?” Old Mother asked. “They fight for the joy of killing and death. Why make peace?” Though she knew. She knew from her visions, visions that had clearly been shared by Killer of Lion. The Earth had given them wisdom, and warnings, and though Killer of Lion was young, he was wise and was forging alliances among the tribes.
Beautiful Flowers said, “The Speaker of the Hunters and Warriors has seen in his visions a cave with a sleeping bear and her cubs. Together they go beneath the earth, into the eternal dark. Those who survive will bring out fat and meat and the furs of the bears.”
“Even though it is not yet Cave Bear Hunt Moon?”
“Even so,” the girl said. “We will have bear fat and thick fur and we will dance upon the Earth.”
They would not dance. Old Mother knew this. But she said nothing as her vines crawled around her ankles and her legs and up across her body.
???
Later, after the sun fell behind the western sea and the night was blanketed with clouds, her fire cast shadows on the stones of the Womb Circle. Smoke clung against the thatch in a dark cloud. Her eyes were growing weak with age, but she could still feel the wool knots she made on small sticks for the length of swaddling. This would protect her last great-great-great-great-granddaughter. The girl would be born in spring and she would eventually become the last Old Mother of the Womb Circle. Her visions had told her this.
When the last of the knots were tied, she broke the sticks away and smoothed the soft cloth. She opened the small bag of ground hematite and began to rub the red pigment into theknots. When she was born this spring, this child would be named Woman of the Blood War.
A different girl, this one wearing the regalia of the Salt Tribe, entered and added sticks to her fire. Old Mother said, “Who are you?”
“At my first moon cycle, I chose the name She Who Walks in Water.”
“It is a good name. Walks in Water, tell me of the day and the early night.”
“Brings Stone Tribe is pulling three massive stones over the ice, to be placed at the spring gather. They sent runners to request help to pull the stones, that they might arrive in time for the gather. Two hands of the youngest hunter women from Salt Tribe and Wolf Tribe go to help.”
“Salt Tribe and Wolf Tribe work together. This is a good omen.”
“Yes, Old Mother of the Womb Circle.”
Later, Old Mother felt the vibration of running feet, followed by the softer vibrations of a woman crawling through the curving entrance. Breathless, before she even entered the inner door, She Who Walks in Water said, “The staff bearer of Trades with the East brings items to trade, and news of attack. A white-skinned tribe on boats made of trees raided their shores. All were killed, except for a woman and two men. They are prisoners, but they have not been questioned. It is said that they do not speak words we understand. One of them has eyes like Sky-Eyes. One has eyes the color of the fir trees in winter, deep green. Is this part of the visions of the Old Mother?”
“Old Mother of the Womb Circle,” she corrected gently, “has no words to say.”
Time passed. Old Mother slept. Woke. With her singing stone, she summoned wood for fire and food and bone broth and the willow broth that kept the pain in her joints at bay.Outside, she heard a young woman’s voice grumble, “This gather is foolish. Women should be in their circles giving birth, making shoes from the hides of the autumn hunt, treating the sick and dying. The tribes never travel in the dark days after the winter solstice, and never during the moons of ice and snow.”
“Shhhh.”
A third voice hissed, “No one alive now has seen a passing of the staff. Old Mother of Winter Trees is the last one of her years. Her visions foretell disaster. We must be prepared.”
Old Mother of Winter Trees agreed with all she heard. Her visions had been true.
???
Killer of Lion entered the cave, a torch held aloft. He looked to every corner, memorizing every rock and every dripping water source. The talks of this cave were few, shared only during drought, as there was much water and no place to shelter that was not wet. He stopped and sniffed. The scent of bear was strong on the air, a bear he had never smelled before. The scent was healthy and full of fat and meat. The scent of bear milk. The scent of birth. The cubs would be small. Their hides would not tan well. He could call off the hunt. But the bonding of the men, one-to-one, outside of tribe, would benefit the coming war.
He gestured into the dark. “There is a female bear with three cubs ahead. And to the left, there is a male bear, sleeping. Mated men of Salt Tribe and Gourd Tribe will go first. Keep to the center. The unmated men will move to the left, led by the mated hunters of the other tribes. All shall be silent until the death strike is made. Spears held ready.”
Killer of Lion led the way into the dark, his one good eye, watching everything, knowing that if the torches died, he would have to lead them out in the darkness.
???
Old Mother of Winter Trees was wakened by Warrior Woman of Blood and Battle. Gently, her great granddaughter helped her to drink. Helped her to pass water through her body. The woman in the midst of change, cleaned Old Mother of Winter Trees, using a decoction made from strong plants, then rubbed soothing fats scented with flowers and herbs into her dry flesh.
Old Mother said nothing, waiting, knowing something important was to occur. It was too soon for the gathering she had called, as there were still three nights before the full moon, but her great granddaughter was not yet ready to speak.
When Old Mother was clean and fed, Warrior Woman of Blood and Battle said, “Killer of Lion has brought back the fat and blood and meat and bones and hide of the sleeping great bear and three cubs that his Vision Moon foretold. The unmated men have brought back a second bear, a male who was sleeping in the cave. But Killer of Lion is troubled.”
