Khakhanate Book 2: The Crow by Tom Lankenau - HTML preview

I got the water boiling and swallowed down my aggravation at such a banal project. Once it was boiling, Theodore put in a mixture of herbs and bark (I think) and let it boil for quite a while. He then took it off the fire, covered and let it steep for a long time. While it was steeping, he told us the news. Ignace and Goa had died early in the winter. There was nothing in particular wrong with them; they just didn’t seem to want to live any longer. Sarah had died late in the winter, but Tepeyolotl was still alive. She had a growth in her abdomen that gradually wasted her. He was sure Tepeyolotl had one too and would soon die also. Their sons were with them, but their daughters were back in Chalco. I withheld my opinion of the latter. Otherwise, all were well. He was pleased to add that his daughter Sarah had delivered a son about a month ago and named him Ignace. We congratulated him on becoming a grandfather. Before we turned in, he gave Carlotta the steeped tea. She liked it and slept very well.

I awoke early the next morning with a start. I must have had an unpleasant dream since my heart was pounding. I immediately looked at Carlotta, but she was resting peacefully with a serene smile on her lips. I got up and quietly went out of the room. Cuauhtzin muttered a bit, but he wasn’t ready to get up yet. I went outside and got the sweat lodge ready. It was still dark, but I really needed a good sweat bath. While the stones were heating up, I went into the woods and gathered some pine boughs. When all was ready, I went into the lodge. I was only there a few minutes when Theodore entered carrying some cedar boughs.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Not at all. Why cedar?”
“My spirit guide recommends it.”
“Mine has been elusive lately.”
“There are times when there is nothing they can say.”
“Why?”

“Sometimes events are out of our hands and there is nothing we can do to avoid or even mitigate consequences.”

 

“Even so, some advice would seem appropriate.”

“Indeed. Perhaps your problem is that you cannot open up your thoughts sufficiently to contact your guide. When the mind is full and the thoughts are racing, there is no possibility of hearing the gentle voice of our guides.”

“Perhaps you could stand in for my guide?”

 

“I would not presume to do so. If you want my advice about something, I will happily give it, but it is not as valid as that of your guide.”

“Well, until I can break through to my guide, I would appreciate it.”
“What is the problem?”
“Is it normal for pregnant women to be so tired?”
“It is not unusual in the latter stages.”

“Is there any particular reason why a Pansfalaya yam keeper would be overly solicitous about Carlotta and me and keep looking at us with what could only be described as condolence?”

“The Pansfalaya are a very kind and thoughtful people, on the whole. They have always been very generous to me. Perhaps the keeper was an older man and was looking at you wistfully, remembering when he was young and having his first child.”

“Why do I think you and Ghigooie are keeping something from me about Carlotta?”

 

“When you are on campaign and you think the enemy may be ahead in force, do you sit down your men and tell them all about it?”

 

“No, you send out scouts to reconnoiter.”

 

“And if they find nothing, but you still think they may be out there, do you then alarm your men?” “No, you might tell them to keep alert, but you continue to send out scouts until your feeling is either confirmed or proved wrong.”

 

“Precisely.”

“Now that we’ve got the tactical lesson out of the way, why don’t you just spell out what your fears are and stop protecting me? I prefer to understand what the problem is and what the potential dangers are so I can prepare for them adequately.”

“You are probably right. But understand that we love you and do not want to unnecessarily upset you.” “Anything is better than this uncertainty.”
“All I can do is limit your uncertainty.”
“That will do.”

“As to Ghigooie and your Pansfalaya friend, when one sees into the future, one is simply seeing one of many possible paths that life may take. It may be at any one moment that it is the most likely, but events can change the paths at any time. Therefore, do not worry about that. For my part, I am concerned about Carlotta. As you may remember the Mexica consider pregnancy to be the equivalent of battle, and they have a point. A woman is always in some danger with it. Some, of course, seem to thrive on it. Some are too young and gravely threatened by it. In Carlotta’s case, sometimes nature prevents a woman from having a child for a good reason and it is risky to thwart that prevention. I’m sure our father explained the risks to her, but having a child is almost a necessity for many women, worth any risk. I suppose she minimized the risks to you?”

“She didn’t mention any risks to me. Neither did our father.”

“He probably assumed she would explain everything to you.Anyway, it usually is not a great risk. My own practice is not to interfere with nature. That’s why I did not say anything to you when you were in the North Country. Father, however, was always bolder than I and felt it was his duty to do all he could to make his patients’ lives full.”

“I had misgivings from the start. But now that the misgivings have proven prescient, exactly what is the risk to Carlotta and how can it be minimized?”

 

“The risk is total. She could easily not survive delivering the child. I will do all I can to minimize it. There is really nothing you could do for her except perhaps pray.”

 

“I will do so.”

We left the sweat lodge in silence and plunged into the freezing river. Although it was spring, it took quite a while for the river to warm up, and of course, it was never warm at this early hour of the day. As we dried off, the sky lightened in the east and activity slowly began in the town. I looked around the familiar sights and felt empty. A deep pall had descended over me and I found it hard to breathe. Then I looked to the door of the house and there was Carlotta smiling and waving her greeting. I realized that I had her now and needed to savor every moment we had whether she survived this child or not. I ran to her and embraced her as if she had just returned from a long trip. From that moment on, I was never away from her, not even to hunt. Unlike many women might have been, she was delighted to have me hovering about her all the time. We discussed the education of the child. I must teach him to read, and when he was old enough, I must send him to stay with the Ani’ Yun’wiya and not her people. Still, he should learn about her people and perhaps her grandfathers’ people across the sea. We speculated about them and blathered endlessly about all sorts of things. When we weren’t talking, I would pray to Deus to spare her. I made no promises or threats, I just humbly asked him to help her. Were it not for the sense of urgency, it would have been one of the happiest times of my life.

33
Carlotta and John, 106 K
(Itsati, E. TN, 1474)

It has been seventeen years since the events of this chapter occurred. Yet they are burned indelibly into my memory. The emotions I felt at that time are as fresh as if they happened yesterday. This will be the most difficult part of my life I will ever write about. It will probably take me a while to write it. Even now, before I start, I feel a lump in my throat and tears are rolling down my cheeks. I will have to try again later.

I just walked around the island a few times. The wind was blowing steadily out of the south. I imagined it blowing away my pain enough for me to write about it, but I don’t think it worked. Still, it is best to get this over with. It was a pivotal event in my life and quite obviously in that of my son.

The time drew near for the birth of my son. Carlotta became ever more serene. The glow I had always seen around her seemed even brighter, to the point that she seemed to light up a dark room. One day we came upon Ghigooie sobbing in the woods a little behind the house. She insisted she was just being a foolish old woman, but the sobs shook her whole body, and she clung to us both for comfort. She finally regained control after Carlotta whispered something in her ear. We continued our walk and came upon one of the large owls sitting on a branch of a tree looking right at us. It was most unusual seeing one of them in broad daylight or even the dappled light of the woods. Of course, the owl is, for the Ani’ Yun’-wiya, the messenger of death. I wondered at the time, if Ghigooie had seen the bird. Cuauhtzin shrieked in alarm at the raptor, but it ignored him and just seemed to stare at Carlotta. She just smiled at him and we walked on. Even though I had never really accepted the Ani’ Yun’-wiya superstitions, an icy fear began to grip my heart.

That evening after we retired for the night, we could hear the owl calling in the night. I must have shuddered perceptively because Carlotta hugged me as if to comfort me. I forced all my fears from my mind with an act of will and concentrated on anticipating any need she might have. After all, it was I who should be strong for her at this time.

The next morning, I awakened early and stole out of the room without disturbing her. I stepped outside and walked down to the river. I sat quietly on the bank looking into the inky blackness only slightly distinguishable in the predawn darkness. Suddenly, I saw a face appear in the water. It looked like my spirit guide. The eyes burned brightly and a voice rang out inside my head.

“Be strong. I am with you always.”

As the apparition vanished, I remember thinking churlishly that I wished he had been with me when I tried to contact him. But once that unworthy thought was complete, I did feel a little better. I got up and walked back to the house. In the doorway I came upon Theodore. He looked at me with the most galling sympathetic look. I wanted to be angry with him, but I quickly realized that would be unfair. Instead I stopped.

“Do you know anything I don’t?”
“It doesn’t look good, Karl.”
“Can you make sure she feels no pain?”
“Yes, I can do that.”
“How long do we have?”
“Another day, perhaps. Perhaps not even that. Stay with her. It means a lot to her.”
“I will.”

I went back to our room and rejoined Carlotta in the bed. She sighed and muttered something in what was likely Wampanoag, the only language she knew that I didn’t. I watched her sleep as dawn slowly lit the room and supplanted her glow. I began to think back on our life together from the first time I saw her until that moment. My heart nearly burst with love for this wonderful person who so filled my existence. It seemed like the times of my life without her were passed in a trance as though I was only partly alive. And now with her I really lived. How could I survive if anything happened to her? I could not imagine life without her. She awakened and dreamily looked up at me and smiled.

“I love opening my eyes and having your sweet face be the first thing I see.”
“I love every moment I have spent with you. And deeply regret every moment we have been apart.”

“Oh the time we were apart while you went north by yourself was so hard to bear. But how wonderful our time together there turned out to be. All alone, just the two of us. I often think of that time.”

 

“I do, too. I regretted having to leave there. I wonder if the Khakhan ever realized what a favor he did for me by exiling me.”

“And for me as well!”
“How are you this morning?”
“Wonderful. I keep having the most pleasant dreams every night. I feel as though I am being bathed in love.” “Every one here loves you, but not as much as I do.”
“There is a sadness in you, Karl. Are you worried about something?”
“I am a little worried about you. Giving birth is a dangerous thing.”
“I suppose so, but it is so exciting! I can’t wait to present you with your healthy son.”
“I am more concerned about you remaining healthy.”

“Oh Karl, don’t concern yourself with me. I am quite strong you know and have really not been uncomfortable at all.”

We got up and went out with the others to greet the sun in the Ani’ Yun’-wiya custom. It was still cool in the morning and Carlotta shivered a little. I quickly put an arm around her and went back into the house with her. As we all ate breakfast together, I reluctantly moved my eyes from her serene face to the others. Ghigooie looked ashen, Iskagua looked devastated, and Theodore looked ill. I can’t say that I took any comfort from them. Only Carlotta had a good appetite that morning.

By midday Carlotta began to have her first birthing pain. She looked up after it passed in sheer joy and excitement. Theodore jumped to fix another concoction for her so she would feel no pain. Ghigooie led her into the birthing hut and bid me to follow. That rather surprised me since the custom called for her to be alone for this event. The hut was small, but held a sleeping palette, a chair, and had a fresh blanket on the floor in front of the chair. Carlotta sat down on the chair and I knelt down beside her and held her hand. Ghigooie whispered something to her and she nodded. Then Ghigooie left to get some things ready.

“Karl, whatever happens today you must promise to love our son as much as you love me.” “I couldn’t love anyone as much as I love you.”

“Well then, love him almost as much as you love me. Remember he is a part of both of us. He is a physical manifestation of our love.”

 

“He is an independent being who will likely not be much like either of us. But how could I help but love anything that has been a part of you for so long?”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the dangers of this pregnancy your father warned me about. I just so much wanted to have your child, that I didn’t think much about his warnings. Still, I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have.”
“Would you have forbidden it?”
“I could never tell you what to do. I would have advised against it, however.”

“I know, you could not bear to have me in any danger. The risk seemed slight to me and the likelihood of the medicine being successful seemed so remote that I jumped at the chance of having our baby. I hope you can understand that.”

“I understand.”
“Please don’t blame the baby or your father if anything happens to me. Promise me you won’t.” “I promise. Just remember how much I love you and don’t be in any hurry to join our departed relatives.”

“Don’t worry. I want to be here for you and the baby. You both need me. But if anything does happen, I’ll be with you somehow anyway.”

 

“I know you will.”

Theodore came in with his medicine and Carlotta took it and drank it. He then moved to one side. Ghigooie returned with various things and took her place at Carlotta’s other side. Her next wave of birthing pain was painless and she looked up in surprise. Theodore explained that it was something he had picked up in his travels and it in no way affected the baby. She smiled and thanked him. Theodore felt for the baby in her abdomen and announced that it was situated properly for normal birth. The waves continued at varying intervals well into the night. As soon as Theodore detected Carlotta was in any pain he quickly gave her more of his medicine.

It must have been almost dawn when the waves became more insistent. Carlotta looked exhausted, so did Ghigooie and Theodore. I imagine I did also. Suddenly, Carlotta cried out and a watery fluid gushed out from her. She knelt down on the rug and with encouragement from all of us she pushed the baby slowly out into Theodore’s waiting hands. This was also contrary to Ani’ Yun’-wiya custom. The baby was supposed to drop directly onto the blanket and if he landed on his back all was well, if on his chest he had to be wrapped in a cloth and dipped into the river until the cloth floated freely; then the bad omen was removed. In this case with Theodore guiding him he sort of landed on his back. I remember seeing the tiny head, bald as an old man’s, slowly emerging followed by the rest of the tiny body, then the afterbirth, then the blood. Theodore tied off the tube to the afterbirth and cut it, then handed the baby to Ghigooie who handed it to Carlotta.

The exhausted look on her face was replaced with a look of such joy it was like a veil was lifted off of her. She tore herself away from the child to look expectantly at me. I smiled and nodded and she turned back to the baby and gently pressed him to her heart. The baby snuggled peacefully. Theodore had disappeared but soon returned with another concoction for Carlotta. He looked more alarmed than merely concerned. She drained the drink and we helped her to the palette. She stretched out and kept the baby on her heart. I couldn’t help but notice the trail of blood on the floor and shot a look at Theodore. He kept wiping away the blood and exchanged looks with Ghigooie. Tears were streaming down Ghigooie’s cheeks. I looked back at Carlotta. She began to shiver. I quickly threw a blanket over her. She opened her eyes and looked above.

“Oh Karl! Do you see them? They’re all here. Could you hold up the baby for their blessing? My arms are so tired.”

 

“Of course.” I held the child up.

 

“Isn’t he beautiful, Hiacoomes? Mother is that you? Father? Oh must I come now? They need me. Ohhh it is so beautiful here…”

It was so sudden I must have stood there holding up the baby and staring at her in shock for a long time. I remember she had a hauntingly serene smile on her face and her lifeless eyes continued to shine. I vaguely heard Ghigooie sobbing. Theodore must have taken the child from me because I was dimly aware of someone doing so. Still, I continued to stand over her with my empty arms outstretched over her. I think Iskagua put his hands on my shoulders then. I lowered my arms and knelt down by Carlotta’s side. I was too shocked to do anything but hold her hand and look into her face. Someone finally closed her eyes. Someone finally pulled me away from her and tried to hold on to me. I pushed him away and bolted from the room. I went outside and looked around without seeing anything. I stumbled and lurched toward the river and fell in. Someone pulled me out and carried me back to the house.

I can’t say that I remember much about the next several days. I have never asked about them and no one has ever volunteered anything. I do remember waking up one morning and instinctively looking over to see Carlotta. When it sunk in that she was not there and never would be again I began to sob bitterly. A strange sound broke into my awareness and instead of dismissing it unidentified, I got control of myself and turned to the sound. It was Cuauhtzin. He was sobbing piteously. I went over to comfort him and he leaned his head against my chest and whimpered. I held him for a long time. Then I carried him out of the house and sat him on the sweat lodge. I heated up the stones and went into the woods for some fresh pine boughs. I stayed in the sweat lodge longer than usual, but finally emerged and plunged into the river. I climbed out, dried myself, and got dressed. I looked around and noticed that it was late in the morning. I went back into the house with Cuauhtzin.

The others were all there when I returned and looked at me with obvious concern. I calmly asked if the necessary had been attended to while I was “gone.” Theodore told me that he had taken the afterbirth and buried it on the far side of the mountains as was customary. He had also taken care of Carlotta’s body as she had asked him. Apparently she had told him she wanted to be cremated and have her ashes thrown into a river that fed into the Eastern Sea. He had cremated her, but still had the ashes since all the rivers around Itsati flow into the Southern Sea. The baby was with a wet nurse (Gatagewi’s wife, Suyeta) and had been officially named John in the naming ceremony two days after his birth. I asked how long I had been “gone.” They told me it was about a week. I apologized for failing to fulfill my parental duties and asked to see the baby and Carlotta’s ashes. Ghigooie went to get the baby and Theodore went to get the ashes.

I followed them outside and stared blankly toward the river until Ghigooie and Suyeta came up with the baby. I took the child and looked into his peacefully sleeping face. He still had no hair on his head and I can’t say that I saw any resemblance to either of us, but then it is hard to see any resemblances in babies. He was as fair skinned as me and his eyes were blue when they finally opened and looked at me. He seemed to stare at me, but I suppose that was just my imagination. Theodore came up with Carlotta’s ashes. They were in a finely woven basket with a lid. I held the baby in one arm and took the basket in the other. I whispered to him that I placed him in her protection and urged him never to forget her. I then handed him back to Suyeta. I thanked her for taking care of him and asked her to look after him for me until I returned next spring. We returned to the house and I made ready my horse. When I was ready, they each gave me a big hug, and I thanked them again for all their help. I then mounted up, secured the basket with Carlotta’s ashes in front of me, and with Cuauhtzin on my shoulder, I rode up the valley toward the east.

I have just walked around the island yet again to clear my thoughts and found myself thinking of many things instead. I have heard that people who lose arms and legs continue to feel the missing limbs long after they are gone. I have been told that time lessens sorrow and eventually one gets over even the worst tragedy. In my case, time has healed nothing, and I still feel the missing half of my being. But I also feel that she is still with me, and sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I almost feel her by my side and could swear I smell her special scent.

34
To the Eastern Sea, 106 K
(E. TN to E GA, 1474)

When I left Itsati it was already near midday, but I traveled on until dusk. I turned south along a small stream that flowed into the river late in the day and was still on its west bank at dusk. I fished in the stream and soon landed a small fish, which I roasted and shared with Cuauhtzin. I still felt rather numb like I was going through the motions and did not have much of an appetite. I slept with my head against the basket with Carlotta’s ashes. I slept quite well that night and could not remember any dreams the next morning. I did feel Carlotta by my side when I awakened and had to adjust to the shock anew when I realized it was only the basket. Still, I smelled her scent for the first time that morning.

On a whim I turned a little west and looked for the mountain of my spirit quest. It took a little while to find it since I had never approached it from this direction. It was late on the following day when I found it. I hid my horse in a thicket, took a little water, and climbed the mountain. When I reached the top, I fed Cuauhtzin a little centli and urged him to be quiet while I tried to reach my spirit guide. I lit a small fire and burned some nawak’osis in it. I closed my eyes and found myself in a field full of flowers. I remember wishing that Carlotta could see it when suddenly she was there smiling at me. Next to her was my spirit guide.

“Carlotta!”
“So this is your guide, Karl,” she said. “He is a fine one.”
“I can’t tell you how much I miss you,” I said to her.
“And I miss you. But I am still with you, don’t you feel me?”
“Yes, I do. But not enough.”

“It was so hard to leave you and little John, but I had no choice. Still, I can watch over you both even though you are apart.”

“Is the child well?”
“Yes. Do you blame him for what happened to me?”
“I’m trying not to do so.”
“He does need a wet nurse now, but don’t forget about him. He will need you when he’s older.” “I won’t forget him. I plan to return in the spring. Should I have taken him to Mathilde?”

“No. She had her hands full with my namesake. Suyeta is a wonderful mother and loves him already like he was her own. I’m sorry about the ashes. It was silly to have you take them all the way to a river that flows into the eastern sea.”

“I don’t mind at all. I wish you had told me, though.”

 

“I could never think of death around you and I had forgotten all about that request. Theodore and I must have had some morbid conversations. You can pour them into the Itsati if you wish.”

 

“No, it means a lot to me that I can do this for you. When he’s old enough I want to bring John to the spot, so he can feel some connection to you.”

“He’ll always be connected to me. Just as you are.”
“Thank you for coming with my guide.”
“Just try to keep me away.”
“Don’t ever go away.”
“I won’t.”

I must have fallen asleep at that point, since I don’t remember anything else. But the next morning, I awakened feeling a little less numb. I went back down the mountain and found a stream in which to fish. Before long I was roasting a fair-sized fish, and Cuauhtzin and I had a good meal. Afterward I set off toward the northeast and by nightfall the next day was back at the Itsati River a little upstream from where I had left it. The next morning, I continued up the river. It was a gradual climb and the river valley narrowed considerably for the first few days. Then the river turned southeast and the valley opened up a bit. Here were some Ani’ Yun’-wiya towns. As usual I came upon the fields first; then the town spread out on one or the other side of the river. One of the towns was Nikwasi, the principle town of the so-called Kituhwa Ani’ Yun’-wiya. They were actually considered to be just like us, Ottare or “mountain” Ani’ Yun’-wiya, although there were some oddities creeping into their language. It was a large town and had a very large council house. I didn’t meet anyone I knew as I rode through it or any of the other towns and was glad I didn’t since I really didn’t feel like visiting at the time. Eventually the river turned more south and finally narrowed to a stream. I stayed with it until it turned sharply west; then I continued south over what could almost be a pass and came upon a stream flowing south just at dusk.

I followed the new stream the next day. It turned sharply eastward and eventually joined a larger river. Looking at my map, I was fairly sure this larger river was the Cusabo River. I soon came upon another Ani’ Yun’-wiya town. I hadn’t realized that the Ayrate or low country Ani’ Yun’-wiya had expanded this far south. I spoke to a man who stopped to greet me. Of course, he spoke a dialect a little different from the one I was used to speaking. It was the one called Elate. Grandfather had mentioned the various dialects in his book, but I had only rarely encountered them before. With some effort I could understand it and make myself understood. The man confirmed that the river was the Cusabo and mentioned that there was a beautiful waterfall a little downriver and up a smaller river coming in from the west. He told me that the Ayrate had expanded far eastward and southward in the wake of the imploding populations of the Iyehyeh and Southeastern Cities many years ago. Back when Grandfather was exploring this area the Kofitachiki had claimed it. They were still thought to exist, but after the plagues and subsequent difficulties, any survivors must be way downstream and confined to only a few towns although the man did not know of any. Similarly, the Iyehyeh, after Grandfather had defeated them and the plagues had ravished them, had coalesced to a small area along the middle Sewee River. Their towns were growing again and they seemed to have recovered. Much of the western part of their former territory was now occupied by the Ani’ Yun’-wiya and the Cheroenhaka. The former in the southern part, the latter in the northern part. I asked if there were any problems between them, but he had never heard of any. After all, he added, they were relatives. I remembered meeting some of them on my way to the Snake Ordu when I was a boy and they were always very gracious to me and my Ani’ Yun’-wiya companions, treating us like relatives.

I thanked the man for his information and decided to have a look at the waterfall. There was a small Ayrate village at the juncture of the rivers and a man there confirmed that the roar I could hear was the waterfall up that river. He mentioned that the river and the falls were named Tallulah. I turned upriver toward the falls. I soon found myself in a deep gorge. Granite cliffs loomed at least five hundred feet above me. The river gradually narrowed and I secured the horses at the base of a rather uncertain trail. When I finally got to the top of the trail, I walked along the northern lip of the gorge, continuing upstream. There proved to be at least five waterfalls of varying heights covering that drop in altitude. I worked my way to the one farthest upstream. It was almost dark when I reached it so I camped for the night. As usual I fell asleep with my head against the basket.

That night I dreamt that Carlotta again came with my spirit guide and both approved this as the perf