Cry of the Wind Read Free Page A

the trader Cen had stolen Aqamdax, taken her to the Cousin River Village and sold her as a slave. Before Chakliux could find where Cen had taken her, Night Man bought Aqamdax as wife, and now Aqamdax labored to deliver Night Man’s child.
    Chakliux shook his head. Night Man was as foolish as his sister Star. He was worried about whether Aqamdax’s child belonged to him. Aqamdax had been forced into other hunters’ beds while she was a slave. If the baby was born large and strong, it was not Night Man’s, though he would be wise to raise the child as his own. If it was small—a sign it had been born early—it was certainly his child but would probably die.
    Chakliux was not wise enough to know which way he should pray—there would be sadness if the child lived or if it died. Instead he prayed for Aqamdax. That she would live. How could he bear to again lose a woman he loved?
    Snow-in-her-hair offered Sok a bowl of soup, and he lashed out at her in harsh words. The thin, nearly meatless broth added to his anger. Any wife should be ashamed to offer her husband such poor food. What happened to the caribou belly they had roasted whole, full of the tender summer plants the animal had been eating before Sok and Chakliux had killed it? What happened to the rich broth made from the head? Surely, some of that was left. Who deserved to eat it more than he?
    Again he threw harsh words at his wife, but when he saw his son Cries-loud press himself up against the side of the lodge, he was suddenly ashamed of his anger. It was not the broth that tortured his soul but the birth of Red Leaf’s child. He would keep the baby if it was healthy, but what about Red Leaf?
    She had cost Sok the leadership of the Near River People. Someday, he would have been their chief hunter, and Chakliux had held an honored place as storyteller. Together they would have guided the people, turned them from war toward ways of respect, but Red Leaf had destroyed any chance of that when she killed his grand-father. Now Sok lived in exile, forced, because of what his wife had done, to leave the village of his birth.
    Red Leaf was alive now only because she carried Sok’s baby. She had claimed that she killed out of love for him, to give him the chance to have his grandfather’s place as chief hunter. In that way, perhaps he was nearly as guilty of the killing as Red Leaf. But he would have never wished for his grandfather’s death.
    During all the moons awaiting this night of birth, Sok had been unable to decide what he should do. Now, without doubt, in the remnants of the Cousin River Village, he was chief hunter. There was little honor in it, but still the people looked to him to provide food. They faced a harsh winter. Their only hope of survival was a successful fall caribou hunt.
    If he killed Red Leaf, would her blood keep the animals from giving themselves to his spear? If he did not kill Red Leaf, would his grandfather’s need for revenge turn the caribou from the Cousin River hunters?

Chapter Two
    N EAR DAWN, AQAMDAX’S PAINS stopped. Ligige’ had given her tea steeped from balsam poplar root, and the old woman began to hope that the medicine had worked. If Aqamdax could hold the child in her belly for even eight or ten more days, there was a chance that it would live.
    After Aqamdax fell asleep, Ligige’ crept back through the village to Star’s lodge and went inside. She woke Star and told her that Aqamdax’s labor had stopped, then saw that both Chakliux and Night Man were awake.
    “The child?” Night Man asked.
    “The birth pains have stopped.”
    “Aqamdax?” asked Chakliux.
    His voice was a whisper, and Ligige’ was not sure whether he spoke only to say her name or if he was asking about her.
    “She is strong. It is not Aqamdax I worry about.”
    Ligige’ went then to Red Leaf’s birth lodge. The day was brightening, the sky clear and without clouds. She did not bother to call out or scratch at the doorflap. She merely pulled it