Wolf Pack

By Brooke Shaffer

For Aniyvwiya brothers Kiyuga and Anagalisgi, change and turmoil is all they have ever known. With their parents taken from them at an early age, they are raised by their grandmother in a culture facing threats from all sides as the white-skinned men war for dominance over land they claim as their own.

Kiyuga's destiny lies in the path of the warrior, going to battle to protect his people and providing meat for his family. Anagalisgi, however, travels a different road, one of priest, prophet, and dreamer, though he only ever manages to conjure up bad omens.

Together, the warrior and the dreamer must help their people defy slavery and extinction. And when a couple of new conjurers show up in town wielding unspeakable sorceries, they must decide whether it is their people's saving grace...or certain death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brooke Shaffer
• Release date: Jan 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781953113085

Brooke Shaffer

Brooke Shaffer was born and raised in a small town in Michigan with one blinking light and a stop sign that's more of a suggestion. After dropping out of college in 2013, she married her husband Adam in 2014 and they moved out to an even smaller town that doesn't even have a stop sign, where they started a farm that continues to this day. Her favorite animal has been and always will be cats, of which she currently has five. Other hobbies include video games, construction work and tinkering, traveling, martial arts, and eating.

Book preview

Wolf Pack

Book One of The Lone Wolf

The Timekeeper Chronicles

by Brooke Shaffer

Copyright © 2021 by Brooke Shaffer

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other-except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written consent of the publisher.

Published in Michigan by Black Bear Publishing.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

ISBN

Hardcover: 978-­1­-953113­-06­-1

Softcover: 978­-1-953113­-07­-8

eBook: 978­-1­-953113­-08­-5

Audiobook: 978­-1­-953113­-09­-2

For Ruby and her children and her grandchildren and her great­ grandchildren and all the children of the world she loved as her own

A note on pronunciation:

H when coming before another consonant is not a distinct sound but a breathy huff

Ts may be pronounced as either ts as in cats, ch as in chair, or j as in judge

V is pronounced as a short u as in cut

Allegiances

Aniyvwiya

The Cherokee

ᏍᎩᎠᎬᏍᏔ | Skiagvsta

Red chief, a chief or chiefs who rules in times of war

Atagulkalu | Wolf Clan, nephew of Gvnagadoga, uncle to Nanyehi, cousin of Aganstata, husband to Nayanali, Chief of Itsa'ti and later Taskigi and Mialoquo, called Little Carpenter by the British

Chola | Chief of Si'tiku

Ganedisgi | Chief of Itse'yi

Tawodi | Chief of Nagutsi'

Tisto | Chief of Kuwayi'hi

Ustanaqua | Wolf Clan, called Mankiller by the British, Chief of Tama'li

Wilinawa | Wild Potato Clan, Chief of Daqua'i

Yachtino | Chief of Talasi

ᎤᎫ | Uku

White chief, a chief or chiefs who rules in times of peace (could also be priests)

Gvnagadoga | Beloved Man of Itsa'ti, called Old Hop by the British

Usga'hi | Bird Clan, priest of Si'tiku

ᎩᎦᎤ | Ghigau

Beloved Woman, women who had voting rights on the Women's Council and the general council, adviser to the chiefs, could execute or spare war prisoners

Diwedalohi | Wolf Clan, grandmother to Kiyuga and Anagalisgi

Nanyehi | Wolf Clan, niece of Atagulkalu

ᎠᏓᏪᎯ | Adawehi

Priests, prophets, and medicine men who invoked the spirits for healing and guidance in matters of war, peace, and everyday life

Agodehi | Paint Clan, priest of Itsa'ti

Anagalisgi | Wolf Clan, younger brother to Kiyuga, dreamer and prophet, priest of Itsa'ti

Nage'i | Long Hair Clan, priest of Itsa'ti

Nakatiha | Blue Clan, priest of Nagutsi'

Tsgili | Bird Clan, priest of Kuwayi'hi

ᎠᏂᏩᏯ | Anihwaya

Wolf Clan, the largest clan, tasked with providing warriors and protecting the people, their color is red

Adahi | A warrior

Aganstata | Senior warrior, scarred from smallpox, father of Nayanali, cousin of Atagulkalu

Amadoya | First Warrior of Si'tiku

Digvnige | Uncle to Kiyuga and Anagalisgi

Gvnagadoga | A warrior, nephew of Gvnagadoga (uku)

Inga | British woman captured by Nanyehi and adopted as her sister

Kiyuga | Older brother to Anagalisgi, called Yvgidahi Young Spear

Selowa | A senior warrior

Uhtalugi'a | A senior warrior

Watiyel | Aunt of Kiyuga and Anagalisgi, nursemaid to Anagalisgi

ᎠᏂᏬᏗ | Aniwodi

Paint Clan, the smallest clan, tasked with providing priests and medicine men, their color is white

Ahtsehd | A warrior

Duwisgali | A senior warrior

Nayanali | Daughter of Aganstata, wife to Atagulkalu

Nvyohi | A warrior

Sotsena | Wife of Digvnige

Tsiyu Gansini | A warrior, son of Atagulkalu

ᎠᏂᏌᎰᏂ | Anisahoni

Blue Clan, tasked with keeping children well and mixing a special blue ­colored medicine, their color is blue

Ani | A boy

Ganvgi | Wife to Ganulahsa'a

Kvhe | A warrior

Saloli | First Warrior of Taliqua

Uki'la | A senior warrior

ᎠᏂᎧᏫ | Anikawi

Deer Clan, tasked with hunting and considered fast runners, their color is brown

Dodidoya | A warrior

Galegi | A warrior

Geluhni | A warrior

Totsuwa | A warrior

Ugidahli | An elder

Uhyesadv | A warrior

ᎠᏂᎩᎶᎯ | Anigilohi

Long Hair Clan, tasked with bringing peace and considered very vain in their dress, their color is yellow

Golisdayv'i | A warrior

Kansgawi | A warrior, son of Ulvsati

Kanunu | A boy

Ulvsati | Cousin of Diwedalohi

Unisgwali | A warrior, son of Ulvsati

Yvgi | A warrior

ᎠᏂᎪᏓᎨᏫ | Anigodagewi

Wild Potato Clan, tasked with foraging and cooking, their color is green

Advtowa | Wife of Kiyuga

Ayohli Tsiyo | Son of Advtowa and Kiyuga

Gatsvnula | Older brother to Advtowa

Nage'i | A warrior

Totsuwa | A warrior

Ulogilv | Mother of Advtowa

ᎠᏂᏥᏍᏆ | Anitsisgwa

Bird Clan, tasked with carrying messages and skilled in use of blowguns and snares, their color is purple

Tolatsi | A warrior

Ganulahsa'a | A warrior, cousin of Kiyuga and Anagalisgi

Saliksgwo | A warrior

Anigilisi

The British

Military Officers

General Forbes | Leader of the Forbes Expedition to take Fort Duquense, often ill and unable to keep up

Colonel Montgomery | Led an invasion of Aniyvwiya Lower towns

Colonel Washington | In charge of the colonial provincials on the Forbes Expedition

Lieutenant Colonel Bouquet | In charge of the Forbes Expedition

Major Grant | Planned an ambush on Fort Duquense, captured, later released, led massive attacks on Aniyvwiya Middle and Lower towns

Major Lewis | Part of a reconnaissance mission on Fort Duquense

Captain Demeré | Captain of Fort Loudoun

Captain Gadsden | Led an artillery force through the Lower Towns, escorting hostages from Charleston to Fort Prince George

Captain McDonald | Highland soldier who led a decoy force against Fort Duquense

Lieutenant Cotymore | Commander of Fort Prince George

Lieutenant Kettle | Led an expedition to negotiate terms to build Fort Loudoun

Lieutenant Stuart | Officer at Fort Loudoun, good friend of Atagulkalu

Politicians

Governor Fauquier | Governor of Virginia

Governor Lyttelton | Governor of South Carolina

Lieutenant Governor Bull | Lieutenant Governor of South Carolina

Lieutenant Governor Dinwiddie | Lieutenant Governor of Virginia

Other

Andrew O'Dell | Provincial soldier

Nathan Wilde | Provincial soldier

William Moore | Chaplain at Fort Loudoun

Other Peoples

Anakwanki | The Lenape

Anigalvhtsi | The French

Anigvnage'i | Black People

Anikawita | The Creek (lower)

Anikusi | The Creek (upper), Muskogee

Aninotsi | The Natchez

Aninvdawegi | The Iroquois

Anisawanugi | The Shawano

Anisenika | The Seneca

Anitagwi | The Catawba

Words and Phrases

Words expressing relation (mother, father, etc.) require certain prefixes in order to be grammatically correct, and indicate the relationship between the speaker and the object. Therefore, you would not say simply Yes, Grandma, but Yes, my grandma, or not Father isn't well, but Our father isn't well, etc.

Adahnesagi'a | He/she is conjuring/witching.

Agatena | Lace

Agi'a | He/she/it is picking it up.

Akatiha | He/she/it is peeking.

Aktiya | He/she/it is watching over him/her/it.

Ale | And

Amayi | River

Anejodi | A ball game, the precursor to lacrosse

Anvyi | Windy Moon, March

Asganola | Slow

Atsvstdi | Light

Digadayosdi | A ball game similar to bocceball and golf

Diga'galvnvdiha | Weeping willow

Digohwelisgi | Author

-­Do | Brother to a woman (or sister to a man) ­

-Etsi | Child

Ge'gwogv | Pileated woodpecker

Galohisdi | Doorway

Galo'ohndiha | He/she/it is making him/her/it fall.

Gayalvnga | It is sticking to it; it is attached to it.

Guyequoni | Ripe Corn Moon, July

-­Hnvhli | Brother to a man

Iyuwahnilvhi | Time

Kagali | Bony Moon, February

-­Lisi | Grandmother or Granddaughter

Skala Galogwehi | Pistol or small firearm

Tsinagi'e'a | I took it from him.

-­Tuta | Grandfather or Grandson

Udilegv'i | Hot

Uhlisda | Fast, quick

Uhnoyvgi | Noise, sound

Uhnoyv'nohyvhlga | It is making a noise.

Uhyvtsa | Cold

Unolvtan | Cold Moon, January

Vsgiyi | Snow Moon, December

Vv | Yes

Wado | Thank you

Watsini | Virginia

Waya | Wolf

Prefixes:

Agi-­ | My

Tsa­- | Your (singular)

U-­ | His/her

Igi­- | Our

Ogi-­ | Our (not yours)

Itsi­- | Your (plural)

Uni-­ | Their

Map

ᎠᏯᏙᎸᎢ ᏐᏊ

Ayadohlv'i Sogwu

Kiyuga

Kiyuga would always remember the day his mother died, though he was only three at the time. He remembered huddling next to her, feeling the fire burn within her body. He remembered hearing her wheezing breaths, her slow heart. He'd drifted off to sleep, praying for her to get better even as he heard the wails of both the priests and others who were losing loved ones.

When he woke, his mother's body no longer burned with fire. Initially he'd been happy, and he jumped up for joy, pleased that his prayers had been answered. But when he looked, he found his mother unmoving and pale. When he touched her, she did not respond. He called her name, screamed it in fact, his voice drowned out by the cries of those also waking to find family members had walked on in the night.

He remembered sitting down and wailing like the child he was, still blubbering her name, calling for her to return to him. When the worst of his sobbing was over, he lay down beside her again and buried his face in her chest, silently willing her to wake up.

His father had walked on only a moon before, and the small child didn't know how much more he could take. Perhaps he would follow them. He wanted to follow them into the western lands. Why had they abandoned him? Why had the spirits taken them from him? He didn't understand.

At some point, someone came to take his mother's body away. He'd screamed and protested, but what could a child do? He cried again and someone held him. But he didn't want to be held, not by anyone but his mother. And now she was gone. Already he missed her touch, her embrace, even if it had been weak and feverish. It was all he had left of her, just a dim memory fading fast.

He left the townhouse. Once brimming with life, it was now a sanctuary of death, made to care for those who had contracted the disease that was ravaging all the villages. It was said to be at its peak and had to subside now. Kiyuga no longer cared. His mother and father had both been stolen from him by this disease and the evil spirits who brought it upon them. What did it matter whether it subsided or grew even worse? It wasn't going to bring them back.

All around him in the village, families were torn in half between the living and the dying. There was no merriment, no joy. Music was scarcely heard except for the now-routine beating of the funeral drums. Laughter was a luxury many could not indulge in.

Before he could stop it, someone took his hand and led him along. He didn't want to go with this person. He didn't know where he wanted to go, but it wasn't wherever they wanted him to go. He protested, but once again, he was but a child and could put up no real resistance.

Immediately upon seeing his grandmother, Kiyuga burst into tears and ran to her. She welcomed him with open arms and took him up, holding him close and letting him cry.

He wept until he slept. He wished only to see his mother, to know her spirit was well, to know that she had crossed safely. He did not see her, and when he woke, he cried some more.

You will see her again one day, his grandmother told him. One day, you will join her on the path beyond this world.

I didn't want her to go on the path without me, Kiyuga said. Or that was what he intended to say. With his face still buried in his grandmother's chest, it all sounded like a mumble.

She did not reply.

Kiyuga never forgot the day his mother died. He never forgot what she looked and felt like as she lay dying, pale and feverish. He never forgot the last time she put her hand on his head and called him akwetsi, my son. He felt ashamed for it, for he did forget how she looked in life. Later on, he would look at all the other women in the village and wonder if his mother had ever looked as such when she was happy, or when she cooked, or when she tanned animal hides. He did forget how she said his name, and he would watch other mothers call to their children, and his heart would ache that he did not remember his mother calling to him in such a way.

As a little boy, Kiyuga remembered only the tragedy, for it was impressed upon his mind, but he was not mature enough to understand that he had to commit these other things to memory, else they would slip from him. If he did not carry his mother's memories and her spirit, how would he know it if he found her in the spirit world? Or his father, for that matter? Perhaps he would just know, something instinctive inside him, the life force that bound families together.

He wailed for his mother and father, but only Ulisi, his grandmother, was there to comfort him. His grandfather had walked on before he'd been born. What did he think of this now? What did he think of so many kin coming to walk with him at once?

Kiyuga wanted to walk with them. He wanted to walk the spirit trail and find his mother and father. He wanted to bring them back from the western lands, where spirits walked in misery.

But such were the notions of a child who did not understand death, even if it was all he'd consciously known in his life thus far. The sickness, the death, the wailing and uncertainty of tomorrow, people in his life for only an instant before they were gone, taken by forces he did not understand to a place he was not permitted to go. It was all so unfair. He didn't understand.

Eventually, he pulled away from Ulisi and meandered inside her home. They had all lived here together, but now it looked so empty. His father's things had gone, and his mother's things were now gone as well, destroyed for being unclean. All that remained was uhnvhli, his brother, who was named Anagalisgi.

Anagalisgi was an infant still on the breast, though he slept now in the arms of the woman who had cared for him since their mother had fallen ill. There had been fear that illness had passed from mother to son, but other than a slight fever that went away quickly, he'd shown no signs of the illness.

Watiyel, the woman, held out her hand as she prepared to exit the house. Kiyuga did not want to take it.

I think he knows she's gone, Watiyel said. He started crying before you did.

Kiyuga did not say anything to that, just stared at the doorway where clouds passing over the sun dappled the light streaming in. In some small part of his heart, he feared. He feared that his brother would also walk on. Such a small thing, bundled tightly and sleeping soundly. Kiyuga felt as though he had no one left in the world but him.

It was a foolish notion, of course, as everyone in the clan, in the whole nation, was family. He called his mother's sisters as mother, with no reproach or inkling that it was unusual. But there was a part of him that wanted to keep something or someone as his. Ulisi was becoming elderly, and though she would be taking care of him now, she took care of everyone, as was her duty and honor as an elder. His mother's sisters had families and children of their own. His mother's one remaining brother was courting a girl and would soon leave to join her, once the sickness had passed.

Come, Kiyuga, Ulisi said, beckoning him forward. We must go to the river now and let the priest do his work.

Kiyuga hesitated and turned to look at his baby brother. Tiny bubbles dotted the infant's lips as he breathed, but Kiyuga thought he looked concerned, troubled. Could one so small understand what had happened? Did he have dreams of his mother and father now gone? Did he walk with them still in some way?

When he looked up at Watiyel, the woman drew a sharp breath, as though stunned by his appearance, as if he'd suddenly grown fur or wings or a tail. Her lips parted and she took an even breath, but she said nothing of it, not what she saw or thought she saw, not what she was thinking. She turned her attention to Anagalisgi, and Kiyuga noticed that she held her breath, as though she'd had some similar revelation about the months-old infant in her arms but kept herself still to avoid rousing the babe.

Finally she closed her eyes for a moment, then reached out with her free hand to touch Kiyuga and guide him out of the home. The four of them left the village and went south, to the river. One priest would cleanse their home, dispose of his mother's belongings, then another priest would come to bathe them in the river.

They were not the only ones waiting on the banks of the river. Two other families were gathered in solemn regard. It was late in the evening before a priest came. One by one, they went into the river and immersed themselves in the waters, each time facing a new direction while the priest blessed them and declared them clean again. For Anagalisgi, the priest held the infant in strong hands and immersed him as well. The child did not fuss, but accepted it with unusually calm regard.

When they returned to their home, Kiyuga thought it was just a little emptier. It was bad enough that his mother should be gone, but now all trace of her had been erased. The only indication of her existence now was the burial mound outside their home, where she lay beside his father. Kiyuga sat in a heap. Watiyel knelt beside him and handed Anagalisgi to him.

Watch over him a moment, Watiyel said wistfully, and departed.

Kiyuga looked down at his baby brother. Anagalisgi had roused awake in all the shuffling and looked up at him with large, dark eyes.

I will protect you, Tsotsatanvhli, Kiyuga promised. I will keep you safe.

Anagalisgi did not say anything, but he smiled and more bubbles foamed at his mouth as he stuck his tongue out and wiggled in his bundling furs.

They would play with the other children and call them brother and sister, but the two of them would have no more brothers or sisters of their own. They had only each other, until the day they married, and even then, the bond of brotherhood was not easily broken. Kiyuga resolved it would be so, in the innocent and yet powerful way that only a child of three years can.

You will not walk on, Tsotsatanvhli, Kiyuga went on. Even if I have to go before you and clear the way, you will not walk on.

Ulisi appeared then. Smiling warmly, she took Anagalisgi in one arm and Kiyuga in the other and quietly sat down. Loneliness washed over Kiyuga then, and tears blurred his vision as he found himself begging for his mother. Ulisi stroked his hair.

I know, dear one, she sighed. I know. But they have walked on to be with the spirits, as we all must in our own time.

Kiyuga did not speak, and when Ulisi gave him a bowl of food, he did not eat. He was starving but he felt sick. It was not the sickness that had taken his mother, but the sickness that made him long for her. He continued to refuse food, saying he was in mourning. At last, Ulisi stopped pushing. Watiyel came to feed Anagalisgi, then departed once more.

Night came, but the darkness was staved off by the sacred fire, kept going continuously since the first people fell ill, a time since before Kiyuga's clear recollection. All of the death and the funerals had run together. He'd never seen a proper ceremony before, and he would later resent the fact that he could not properly honor his mother. The best he could do was stand there at the fire and watch the priests—those who were not exhausted from over a year of death—as they sent the dead to be with the spirits, and implore the spirits to spare the rest of the living.

Kiyuga forced himself to stay awake as long as he could, but the next thing he knew, Ulisi was taking him back to bed. He rubbed his eyes and protested, wanting to stay for the whole thing. Ulisi said something kind, he knew, but he could not remember just what she said. He didn't even remember laying down and falling asleep.

Kiyuga never forgot the day his mother died. He never forgot the promise he made to his brother Anagalisgi to protect him and not let him walk on. Even when the sickness finally passed and half-deserted villages returned to normal, Kiyuga never forgot. Even as Anagalisgi began to walk and talk, Kiyuga never forgot. In fact, he worked all the harder to remember, and he frequently repeated his promise to his brother, to the point where that promise was one of the first prolonged pieces of dialogue that the boy could recite.

I will protect you, little brother, Kiyuga told him. I will watch over you. Even if I have to go before you to clear the way, I will not let you walk on.

Sometimes Anagalisgi repeated it back as best he could, other times he just smiled at Kiyuga and doddled after him, as little brothers tended to do.

Kiyuga took his brother everywhere and did everything with him. Everything he learned, he told or showed his brother. He repeated every story the elders told, recited every remedy the healer prescribed. He showed his brother the animals—the beasts, the birds, the insects that crawled and flitted from here to there. He showed Anagalisgi his first blowgun, his first real weapon. He showed Anagalisgi his first bow, the one that would help to strengthen his arm and improve his aim before he became a real hunter.

He showed Anagalisgi his first small club, demonstrated the various strikes he could use to disable man or animal. He took his brother with him when he practiced with his little knife upon bad furs sewn together to resemble an animal. It was a metal blade acquired through trade with the Europeans just over the eastern hills.

The only weapon he was not allowed to use yet was the firearm, skala galogwehi, a pistol. Such weapons had been seen as sorcery when the white men first brought them to use and trade, and many had been injured or killed. Now that the people had acquired them, they understood how the skala galogwehi worked, and they frequently traded for more, or the ammunition, but it was not something Kiyuga could well learn on his own, and Anagalisgi was much too young.

Kiyuga did not remember when he first saw a white man, a European, but when his scattered toddler images began to form into more coherent memories, he knew that it was not uncommon for them to be here. The Aniyvwiya were allied with the British, at least for trading purposes, though they had allied with the French for both trading and to bolster their offensive against the Six Nations to the north. At least, that was how Kiyuga understood it, as a six year old.

The British and French traders came by regularly, and as such, both Kiyuga and Anagalisgi began to understand them. First they parroted words they heard often or thought unique. Then they started to engage in simple dialogue. Few objected to this, as it was crucial to avoid catastrophes such as that which had befallen other peoples who negotiated in bad faith with the Europeans who used their lack of understanding against them. Being able to speak and read at the enemy's table was an excellent defense for themselves, and an offense when they turned the Europeans against each other.

When the traders left and everyone had gone to sleep at night, Kiyuga and Anagalisgi would stay up and whisper to each other, playing with their new words as much as their new traded goods. Sometimes they pretended to be the traders. Kiyuga would be a British trader and Anagalisgi an Ayvwiya man, and they would trade rocks or leaves or whatever they had to hand. Or Anagalisgi would be a French trader and Kiyuga the Ayvwiya man.

Sometimes they would both pretend to be Europeans, Kiyuga British and Anagalisgi French, and they would pretend to fight and have mini-wars. Kiyuga heard a lot of the adults laughing that the white men were so easily fooled and turned against one another at the slightest inkling. Meanwhile, they just kept trading and storing up the European weapons and goods, ready for just about anything.

Loyalty was always about family and the people first, the men said. The Europeans put their faith in pieces of paper, scribbles and ink, promises of a future not yet realized. They had no tangible loyalty to bind them to today. Their hopes were always on the horizon, always within sight but always out of reach. But not the Aniyvwiya. For the Aniyvwiya, family and the people, the things one could always see and touch. Even when distant, the spirits always guided one back to the people.

Kiyuga had no trouble absorbing this belief, for he had thrown himself into it for his brother's sake. He did not repeat his promise to Anagalisgi every night like he used to, but he knew. They both knew.

The two of them played with the other boys in the village, whom they also called brother or cousin. They played, they ran, they practiced their hunting and fishing and tried to always outdo each other. But everyone could see that they two, Kiyuga and Anagalisgi, had a special bond.

They will be great one day, Kiyuga once heard an elder say. The two of them will together make our people great and save us from great tragedy.

At the time, Kiyuga paid little mind to the deeper meaning of the elder's words; he was simply thrilled to be given such high praise. But later, as he got older, Kiyuga would think back to the old man's words and wonder what he meant. What was it that the elder had foreseen? What were they supposed to do in order to avoid it? And even later, Kiyuga would wish that he had never the elder's words, had never known that everything had been apparently foretold. In his later years, Kiyuga would wonder whether ignorance would have made the loss of his brother more bearable.

ᎠᏯᏙᎸᎢ ᏔᎵ

Ayadohlv'i Tali

Anagalisgi

Anagalisgi did not remember his mother in any tangible sense of the word, though he would say he knew her quite well, even as a child. He knew her smell from the drifts on the wind. He knew her touch from the earth under his feet and the grass on his skin. He knew her voice and her laughter from the bubbling of the brook. He knew her spirit by the birds in the trees. Sometimes he dreamed of her, and he always felt safe, reassured that he was exactly where he needed to be. He did not know why he needed to be there, but it was a comfort all the same.

In the waking hours and when he was not listening to the world around him, Anagalisgi looked to his older brother for protection and companionship. He followed Kiyuga around, always eager to learn and proud to call him his brother. Certainly he was much bigger and faster. He was quick and deadly with the blowgun, like a serpent. He was an expert with the bow and arrow—well, he usually missed, but not by much, and he always picked up another arrow to try again. He was a deft hand with the knife and a strong arm with the club. While he could not use skala galogwehi just yet, sometimes he made pretend motions as though he were handling one.

At night, Kiyuga would sometimes recite the Promise to him.

I will protect you, little brother, Kiyuga would say. I will watch over you. Even if I have to go before you to clear the way, I will not let you walk on.

Anagalisgi loved and admired his brother, and he cherished the Promise as deeply as any child is capable of. But part of it also confused and saddened him, though he could not say exactly why. Later he would consider that his sadness came from the thought of losing Kiyuga, that his brother must be the one to go first, but deep down, a tiny pinprick of light said that wasn't precisely it.

These things were only conceptual to Anagalisgi at the time, as a small child, manifesting more as emotions and vague feelings rather than coherent thought and reason. But this did not bother the child right away, and he was soon going after his idol once more.

When Kiyuga became old enough to start learning how to use skala galogwehi, Anagalisgi was left to fend for himself for a time. When he was with his brother, Anagalisgi was happy to play with the other children or listen to the stories of the elders. More often than not, if it was a Sunday, a priest or a pastor would come by their village to administer religious rites to those who observed Christianity. Sometimes Anagalisgi would tag along and listen to the songs and the sermon, quickly picking up on both the French and English languages.

One time, he went to the front of the little church that they gathered in and took a chunk of the bread sitting there. When he realized that it was holy bread, he expected rebuke, but the pastor just smiled and made a comment about even a child understanding the Bread of Life.

Anagalisgi didn't understand anything, but he was permitted to eat the bread, which he did hurriedly, and just as quickly left the church. He did not return for several weeks. In that time, he pondered what the pastor had said. Bread of Life? Bread gave sustenance, but life? When he did finally return to the church, he approached the pastor after the sermon and asked about it.

Christ Jesus is the Bread of Life, son, the pastor told him gently. His body, broken for you, for me, for all of us, that we may live forever.

Will you live forever? Anagalisgi wondered. To him, the man appeared quite old, an elder of elders. Was he exceptionally old, then? Was he already living past common old age?

The old man nodded. One day, when I have shed this mortal coil and ascended to be with Jesus in Heaven.

Oh. The child pointed to the table where the remaining bread sat next to a cup. What's that?

That is the Blood of Life. Jesus shed his blood and died on a cross for all our sins, that we might be forgiven and enter into Heaven with him.

It's blood?! Anagalisgi recoiled. Human blood?! Was he possessed?!

But the pastor just chuckled. It's a metaphor, son. He retrieved the goblet and showed him. See? Only wine.

Anagalisgi wasn't so sure, and he turned and ran out of the little church. He looked back only once but could not make out the old man's expression as he stood. The child kept running.

It was all a bit much for him, and he found he did not want to play with the other children, nor did he want to sit and listen to the elders. The pastor's words made no sense to him, and they swirled about confusingly in his mind. He needed to find a place to sit and think about things, work through this on his own.

He turned south of the village and continued running, feeling the wind push him into the bushes and up a hill into the trees. Pushing through the brambles to a path only he knew about, he snaked his way down the other side of the hill to a bluff, and from there picked his way down to the lively brook that bubbled happily along. From there, he went downstream just a hop, skip, and a jump to a small cave that formed a kind of grotto. It was here that he did his best thinking, for he was surrounded by earth and comforted by the spirits dancing around him in the cool air and speaking in the river.

He sat in the cave for a minute or two, not thinking, only breathing. Finally he got up and went to peer into the sparkling water of the brook, shining in the sunlight.

Bread of Life. Blood of Life. He was fairly certain that he'd heard Water of Life talked about in a sermon in the past. He'd seen the Baptist pastor perform a similar cleansing ritual in the river, over those who had converted, as they, the Aniyvwiya, performed over families of the dead. What did it all mean? To live forever, but only after death? And going to Heaven, ascending into the sky. The pastor had to be talking about the star trail, though Anagalisgi understood it to lead to the Darkening World.

The Darkening World was a place of unhappy souls far from home before they vanished. Yet he still sensed his mother near. The Heaven that the pastor spoke of sounded like a very nice place. If the Baptist water ritual was like the Aniyvwiya water ritual, and the river was like the Water of Life, that meant his mother and father, neither of whom he'd ever met, would be in Heaven.

Satisfied that he'd reconciled everything and solved the mystery, Anagalisgi turned his attention back to the stream. It fed into the river farther downstream, but here in the grotto there were no fish. He found plenty of frogs, though, and tracks of a multitude of animals, perhaps seeking shelter from weather or an easy meal.

He splashed around in the water a bit, wondering what made the water sacred. Was it a certain depth, a certain quality? Was it the way the sunlight hit it, that the spirits were pleased? Why did they always go to the same spot for cleansing? Was it something only the priest knew? Did the spirits tell him where the sacred spot was? And if the river was used for cleansing and purification, did that mean that all the water downstream of the sacred spot was now unclean and unfit for use?

Anagalisgi often wondered these things aloud when in the village, curious and yet hopeful that someone knew the answer. Ulisi and the elders all said that though he was only a boy of six winters, he had a spirit that already walked in the stars, and perhaps he walked in the stars at night when his waking body rested. Kiyuga and some of the hunters and warriors said that was well and good, but while he was awake and walking the land, he ought to keep his eyes on the land.

He did not understand what they spoke of, or why the men were suddenly mistrustful of the British. He did not understand the significance of the death of the man named Priber. And, really, none of that mattered when he was in the grotto, alone with the spirits. It was here that he could simply be, one with nature, pondering the mystery of existence itself.

As he played in a puddle that had become cut off from the little stream, he thought he heard someone speak, a stranger with a voice he did not recognize. He stood still and listened.

Come here.

Anagalisgi turned, but saw no one in the entrance to the cave. He heard the tittering of a woodpecker burrowing into an exposed tree root that snaked down the slope to the river, but there was not a soul to be found.

The tittering stopped. He saw a flash of movement near the mouth of the cave, and the voice came again.

Come here.

Curious, Anagalisgi obeyed, going to the mouth of the cave and looking over the stream. Downstream he saw nothing. When he looked upstream, he was distracted by the woodpecker, clinging to the exposed tree root. It was not only the unafraid demeanor of the pileated woodpecker, but its coloring, as it was entirely white, and its eyes and crest were silvery gray, not red. The woodpecker appeared to be studying him. Then it opened its beak and began to speak.

Greetings, small one.

Anagalisgi just blinked. Was he dreaming? Was this a vision? He knew of grown men who fasted and sweat for days in hopes of seeing the spirits and receiving a vision, looking for confirmation of a decision. Why was this woodpecker speaking to him?

Do not be afraid, the white woodpecker went on. Come with me.

With that, it spread its wings and hopped off the root, swooping low over the water and gliding up the slope to a tree.

Anagalisgi broke into a run, scrambling up the gravely bluff and pulling himself onto solid ground. Before he reached the tree, the woodpecker was off again, gliding over and under several branches to rest upon another tree. The child dutifully followed, wondering what this spirit—because it could be nothing other than a spirit—wanted with him.

It went on like this until Anagalisgi was doing little more than walking hurriedly after the woodpecker, having expended all his energy. Only his curiosity fueled him now, and even that was beginning to wane. He was happy when the chase finally ended, and at another stream no less. He took a drink, then looked around for the woodpecker.

He caught only a glimpse of it on one tree before it let go and swooped to another, toward the direction they had just come. There it stopped.

Rather than speak to the woodpecker, Anagalisgi's attention was drawn to the sight before him.

Everything as he knew it was gone. The village had disappeared. All the villages had. What lay before him was pure, untouched forest over vast, sprawling mountains. The sky was no longer blue and sunny, but clouds had rolled in overhead, and a brisk wind buffeted his face. In the distance, black clouds rolled over the mountain peaks, and thunder rumbled. He saw lightning touch down multiple times. Mountains and forest disappeared in heavy rain.

Anagalisgi wanted to speak, but could find no words. He didn't know what to think. He always liked to ask questions, but he never imagined that the spirits would speak directly to him and possibly give him the answers themselves. He was simultaneously delighted and awestruck and fearful.

Remember the storm, the woodpecker said. Remember your place in it.

Anagalisgi stared at the distant lightning, mesmerized. He almost didn't feel the wind anymore, though he felt it in the air around him, rustling the trees.

He startled and cried out as something grabbed his arm, but it was only Geluhni, one of the men of the village. With him were several other hunters and Kiyuga.

Without a word, they ushered Anagalisgi away. The small child looked back, but the spirit woodpecker had gone, and the boy allowed himself to be led home. There, with the rain now coming down in sheets, Ulisi fussed over him to get him warm and dry, as he'd begun to shiver.

What were you doing on that hill? Ulisi demanded, though she sounded exhausted.

Following a spirit, Anagalisgi told her. A white woodpecker came to me and said to follow.

He could see his grandmother was conflicted. She loved her grandsons and didn't want to lose them like she'd lost so many others. At the same time, it was unthinkable to reproach anyone for seeking or following a spirit, and she didn't dare ask what it had told him. If he chose to tell, that was his business, but one did not ask.

Once she was satisfied that he wasn't likely to freeze to death, she released him to play with his brother. Except Kiyuga didn't want to play. He was in one of those moods where he was trying to be the adult big brother.

I was following a woodpecker spirit, Anagalisgi said when he saw the look on Kiyuga's face.

Why didn't you tell me? Kiyuga asked.

Because the spirit just said to follow it. I couldn't run away to come get you. Besides, it was my spirit.

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Anagalisgi knew it to be true. The woodpecker was his. It would speak to him and guide him in times of need.

All children want to find their spirit, little brother, Kiyuga told him gently. I want to know my spirit. And I will, when I become a man.

But it's true! Anagalisgi protested. It's mine!

Kiyuga looked ready to speak, but Ulisi chuckled from her place at the fire. She motioned for the boys to approach, which they did meekly. She took them on either side of her and hummed a moment, still smiling. The rain droned overhead on the roof, like a swarm of angry wasps.

Oh, my boys, Ulisi sighed. The spirits are not ours to command or keep. They speak to us in times of need, when we need help or guidance, when they have a message or warning to impart.

But why would they speak to him and not me? Kiyuga pouted.

Because it was clearly not meant for you. We do not tell the spirits when to speak, or to whom. Perhaps a day will come with they speak to you and not to him. It is not a cause for jealousy, simply patience and obedience. Why should we choose one hunting dog over another, except that one is talented in birds and the other in game? Why should we choose one horse over another, except that one is faster or stronger or has better temperament? Why must there be choice at all, except to bring about the most desirable outcome? Why should Unehlanvhi send a spirit to Anagalisgi except that it was His will that should be carried out?

Kiyuga looked chastened, but Anagalisgi was mesmerized by Ulisi's wisdom and now even more curious about why any spirit should speak to him. He was a child playing in the grotto. He had fancies. He knew some of the adults feared that he would never be as great a warrior or hunter as Kiyuga was already proving himself to be. Ulisi and the elders chastised them that he was yet a boy, but in the same way they encouraged Kiyuga's skill in combat and weapons, so they encouraged him to dream.

They did not expect him to take the same path as his brother. But they were Wolf Clan. Their job was to be warriors, to protect and defend the people. Anagalisgi went to peek out the window, just barely able to see the white flag raised over the seat of the chiefs. A time of peace, when the uku ruled, when harmony with the spirits and the land was paramount, when dreaming was encouraged and indulged.

Anagalisgi could be allowed to dream for a while, but what if that changed? What happened if the white flag came down, if the skiagvsta came to power? What happened when they demanded both of the brothers? Ulisi was a Beloved Woman, but could she really only offer up one son to fight? It would reflect poorly on her and the clan if her other son had no abilities to offer, and no excuse other than his daydreams.

The rain came down harder, obscuring the white flag, and a sudden flash of lightning momentarily blinded Anagalisgi. As he was rubbing his eyes, Ulisi picked him up and brought him back to where she and Kiyuga were sitting.

Just because you are called Anagalisgi does not mean you can stare at it, she chided lightly, any more than Kiyuga can dig a burrow or stuff his cheeks.

Why am I called Anagalisgi? the younger brother wondered, still seeing spots.

Because your mother said that she saw lightning from the spirits strike you when you were born, and she knew you would be special.

What about me? Kiyuga butted in.

You... Ulisi said teasingly, you would not come out. You wanted to stay burrowed in your mother. And when you were born, you had big, puffy cheeks, just like kiyuga when he gathers nuts and seeds.

Am I special, too, then?

Ulisi gathered them to her and held them close. Oh, my children, you are special in your own way. Who can say why we have been made except that we will know it when the time comes? We must simply let the spirits guide us and take care not to offend.

Her words were meant to be comforting, but Anagalisgi found himself even more confounded. Why had the spirit spoken to him? What was he expected to do? Remember the storm and remember his place in it? What did that mean? If the spirits had chosen him for some reason, he really didn't want to offend them, but could they maybe speak a little clearer?

The following morning, he went to the elders and the adawehi to inquire about his vision. He already knew that birds were messengers from the spirits to the earth, but what message were they trying to convey?

The head adawehi attempted to communicate with the spirits, and the woodpecker directly. He ate herbs and plants in order to do this, and he said that he saw the world from the wings of the woodpecker. He saw visions of distant lands, of mountains, and of worlds overlaid upon other worlds, spirits walking among men. These were the things that the woodpecker saw, his vision piercing through earth and sky, through time itself.

But why did he tell me? Anagalisgi wondered. What part am I to play?

Young child, the adawehi said, still only half-lucid coming out of his spirit trance. You are the woodpecker. A messenger between spirits and men, destined for distant lands where ordinary men cannot go, yet remaining humble, your soul remaining tethered to the heartbeat of the earth and your people.

The six year old child had no idea what to make of this, and his mind was filled with awe and wonder and horror. He thanked the adawehi appropriately, not wishing to disrespect him or the spirits he communed with, then ran, terrified. He had no desire to return to the grotto at this time, and he found himself heading for the little church.

It was not Sunday, but the pastor was about, seeming to spend more and more of his time with the Overhill people. He smiled when Anagalisgi approached, but it faded when he perceived the boy's distress.

Again the child explained what had happened, his vision and the storm and the woodpecker. He also explained what the adawehi had told him.

I don't understand, Anagalisgi finished, looking at the preacher forlornly.

The old man smiled and nodded. Well, I think I might have an idea. I think God is calling you to prophecy, to prophesy before men. He will give you the words to speak, and you will go before many men, many nations, where no one else may go. Perhaps it will be that you will be the one to take the Word of God to the savage peoples of the West, bring them into civilization, into the Light.

What about the storm?

Not all change is welcomed. You're very fortunate, Anagalisgi. You were born into civilization, into one of the Civilized Tribes, which is why we get along so well. It is merely second nature to you. Not all people are this way. Some people are the woodpeckers. Some people are the trees. It will take work to get through to them. But if God is speaking to you about this already, at such a young age, it means He must have great plans for you.

Anagalisgi was still unsure and his terror had dulled to a lingering fog of fear. He thanked the preacher and returned home. Kiyuga was practicing his weapons and combat with the other older boys. Anagalisgi knew he should be practicing with boys his own age, taking up the blowgun and the bow and arrow, but his heart and mind wasn't in it right now. The vision did not trouble him so much anymore as the adawehi's and the pastor's interpretations of it. He didn't know what to make of it.

Traveling to distant lands, going where no other man could go. It put him in mind of the Darkening World, the souls of the dead going west toward the setting sun and becoming ever more distressed and mournful that they left their homelands, their families, their people. Should he be expected to go to these places willingly? Well, he had no choice. If it was the will of the spirits or Unehlanvhi, he could not disrespect them or refuse their orders.

But why him? Surely Kiyuga was the better choice, if for no other reason than he was the eldest son of their parents and even now a promising hunter and warrior. His brother made a Promise to him. He would be the one to clear the way. Now it was sounding as if it would be the other way around. Anagalisgi was troubled by this as well. Did that mean that Kiyuga's Promise was in vain? Should Anagalisgi tell him? What would he say? How would his brother react?

In the end, Anagalisgi did not say anything more of his vision. He did not tell anyone what the adawehi or the pastor had said. He did not return to either of them seeking further guidance for it. In his heart, he knew it was wrong to keep such a weight, such a message and prophecy to himself, and he found himself going to the shaman more often for absolutions because of it—though he said it was always for other things which he may or may not have done. He hoped the woodpecker would return to explain more of this to him so as to ease the guilt and give him a clearer idea of what to do.

Most especially, he did not speak of it to Kiyuga, and he would not for a long time. But by then, it would be too late, and it would eventually leave Anagalisgi wondering—for decades and even centuries—whether things might have turned out differently if he had confided in Kiyuga. Maybe it would have saved him. At the very least, maybe it would have made the loss of his brother easier to bear, knowing that he had done all he could to clear the way to save him.

ᎠᏯᏙᎸᎢ ᏦᎢ

Ayadohlv'i Tso'i

A Child's Ears

The nuances of politics often escape children, and their understanding of why things were happening was limited only to what they could see and what the adults told them. But even a child could see and sense the change on the wind, Kiyuga thought.

It had started with the death of Moytoy. It was said to have been a grand affair, but Kiyuga had been too young to remember much of it, and besides, he'd still been too aggrieved of his parents' deaths at the time to take notice. He was buried beneath the townhouse, as was his right, that much Kiyuga knew.

After that, growing up, Kiyuga had expected his son, Amoskosit, to become skiagsvta. It had been proclaimed so, after all, and it was not for the child to question such decisions, though it was highly irregular as it was supposed to be a man’s sister’s son who assumed the mantle of leadership.

Then he started to notice something. Traders continued to stop in the village, but it was no longer a destination, as they always packed up quickly and moved north. English and French diplomats continued on the road north, rather than sit and speak to Amoskosit or any of his warriors. Even the missionaries did not linger long, preferring to move north, though the Baptist preacher had become something of a full-time resident, an elder, even.

Families started to move, cleaning their homes and moving north. There were fewer warriors in the village now. Kiyuga was quickly becoming a senior warrior, if only because there were so few left. He was spoken highly of and encouraged to go with the rest.

He returned from a hunt one day, a couple rabbits in hand, just as Ulisi was returning from the fields. But what he expected to be an ordinary evening quickly turned into anything but. He entered the house to find many things packed up. Fear pulsed through him when he saw his things set aside, and he wondered if he was being kicked out. Then he saw that everything was being packed up. Anagalisgi, now eleven years old, was busy packing and wrapping things, while Ulisi made up provisions for what she evidently expected to be a long journey.

What's going on? Kiyuga wondered, unsure just what to say.

We're moving north, to Itsa'ti, Ulisi answered, mashing some berries to mix into some jerky she'd begun preparing. Word of our family has reached Gvnagadoga and the skiagvsta.

Kiyuga blinked. But you are a Beloved Woman of Taliqua Eghawa. This is your home, your history, your clan.

She stopped fussing with the food and looked at him. Kiyuga hadn't moved from his place at the door, and he still gripped the two rabbits. She motioned him forward and took the rabbits to begin skinning. As her hand moved deftly with the knife, she continued speaking.

I know. If it were only me, I would not hesitate to stay behind. But he wants both of you as well. Between your strength and your brother's dreams, Gvnagadoga believes it more beneficial to have you in Itsa'ti. And myself as a Beloved Woman as well. We have a strong family line, always have. You and your brother are no exception. And furthermore, there are many families in Itsa'ti, lots of pretty girls. Maybe one will catch your eye.

Kiyuga did not tell her that one already had, here in Taliqua, but he was hardly in a position to ask for marriage just yet.

When do you expect to leave? he asked sullenly.

First thing in the morning. She gave him a look. Now don't look at me like that. We're not going far, and this is a good thing. What good is a strong warrior if he has no one to defend? What good is a dreamer if no one is around to heed his warnings?

But there are people here. Every village needs a warrior to defend it. And the elders and the adawehi know Anagalisgi and his dreams very well. Gvnagadoga and the adawehi of Itsa'ti don't.

They will learn, Ulisi told him predictably. And a warrior of great repute ought to use his talent where it is needed. You are not yet a full warrior, and to balk at this invitation is terribly disrespectful. Her gaze was mildly accusing and pricked him with guilt. Her tone became very firm. Furthermore, a man goes where his woman tells him. Seeing how you are not yet married, I am your woman. We are going to Itsa'ti.

Kiyuga let out a breath. Yes, Agilisi.

Good boy. Help your brother.

He did so, not speaking until Ulisi had left the house again on some errand.

Did you know about this? he asked his younger brother.

Anagalisgi looked at him. No. I knew she was worried about all the people going north, concerned about Gvnagadoga quietly consolidating power, but I didn't know until this morning. After you left, she told me to start packing. I thought she was kicking us both out, and then she told me the plan.

Kiyuga raised a brow. But did you know?

He knew his brother was a dreamer, and the elders and the adawehi were helping him to refine his powers of perception and discrimination so that he could better understand his dreams and help the people. He was getting better at it, but some of the child's dreams baffled even the most seasoned interpreters.

I don't know, Anagalisgi replied shyly. I think I might have. Some parts of a dream from a moon ago fall into place concerning this, but not all. It's very confusing sometimes. He did sound distressed, Kiyuga thought.

But it is a good thing, he went on, sounding more cheerful. I know that. I know you will become a great warrior.

Everyone tells me that. I don't need a dream from my little brother to tell me something I already know.

No, Anagalisgi insisted. I mean, you will be a great warrior.

The way he said it, the authority in his cracked voice, made Kiyuga uneasy and he turned his attention back to the packing.

The following morning, the three of them joined a small group of other families heading north along the Great Road. It made Kiyuga feel a little more at ease, seeing how he was related to most of them in some way. His closest relative was an uncle, his mother's brother. They walked on the right side of the group, keeping an eye out for attacking animals or bandits.

I remember I told you that we were leaving, but I didn't know you were coming with us! Digvnige laughed.

I didn't know either, Kiyuga replied, trying not to sound sullen.

Ah, I'm not surprised. You are a great warrior, even at your age. You can only get better from here.

Then why are you going?

Sotsena's father was from Tanasi, and all his sisters are still there. She says she wishes to be with family.

Kiyuga raised a brow. You don't believe those are her true intentions?

His uncle laughed again. It is not for us to understand the minds of women, but no, I don't think so. I believe she wants to be with her family, but I don't think her intentions stop there.

She doesn't like Gvnagadoga consolidating power, then?

On the contrary, she is highly supportive. They are of the same clan, and are related in some way, I think. I think she hopes to have some say in matters. She doesn't like your grandmother going, I can tell you that.

Kiyuga stole a sideways glance at Ulisi who was chatting with a couple other women. I don't know what she thinks about Gvnagadoga.

Of course not, you've been a child for this whole thing. Diwedalohi does not think highly of his actions. She had no problems with him, but when he began doing things quietly, behind the backs of the other uku, well, she thinks it suspect, very much like the British and French. If the white men bring their brewing war here, she's afraid Gvnagadoga will declare us for the British.