The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

Illuminate

The beating of drums seemed to be an extension of the tribe. The soulful thuds vibrating through their essence and moving the tribes people. Arms swaying and heads twisting as the flames at the fire pit screeched to the sky.

Feet thumped in time to each thudding hand, dust and sand rising in a cloud as hips twisted and voices climbed higher.

Maliha stood in a position of respect, her eyes wide with wonder as the life in her arms shifted in interest. Her skin was draped in a white ruffled dress that had feathers protruding from its shoulders, around her waist clinched tightly was a thick brown belt with stitching of fiery flames. Her short hair was adorned with the few golden jewels they could clip into the growing tresses. White clay markings were slashed along her cheek in a line on each side and two white lines along her chin.

To her left sat Nahi in a short backed wooden chair, rosy cheeks coloured white with the same white clay on her face. She looked healthy though her body had only began its recovery.

Nahi's skin was adorned in the finest materials, feathers plucked and died in rich colours of yellow red and green, were draped over her shoulders. Her hair was sleeked back into intricate twists and braids, her hair shining with the gold beads and cuffs that adorned her hair.

Abazz stood behind her with a thick feather belt in the same colours wrapped around his waist, his hair adorned with the same gold jewellery. His face was a mask of white patterns, brushes dipped in pure white clay created symbols along his dark skin. The couple looked ferocious, Nahi's chin jutted in determination though it had only been a few hours since her and her babies had had been seen to by their healer.

To Nahi's left stood Ujarak with the baby boy in his hand, Enzo clasping his free hand tightly. Ujarak's head was adorned in a crown of feathers that reached to the heavens and glowed in the paling morning light. He wore fitted black trousers but his chest and face were covered in line after line of white clay markings, each symbol and sign having a meaning that Maliha could not understand.

Gifts lined their feet as the tribe stomped around, hands waving to an ancient dance. Words chanted over as bodies rocked well into the early hours of the morning. As the music hit a crescendo
The sun peaked its way through the dark sky until the night was being forced into its dwelling for the rising of another morning.

Ujarak placed the newborn into Enzo's arms before he stepped forwards, his hands raised above his head as the tribe came to a hush at his signal.

"Ma Savuriya yahsolik," he shouted, his hands waving towards them.

"Yahsolik," they called back, words like a chorus as men and women alike began screeching with their hands pointed to the light. Their hands clapping and feet stomping as they chanted the word again and again.

"T'la," and they listened, eyes keen as they waited for what he would say next.

"We are here this day to celebrate the naming of the newest members of our tribe."

The tribe shouted back the chant again, their voices calling as the drums banged and their bodies swayed.

The hair on Maliha's skin rose as the music and chants travelled through her, tears gliding down her cheeks as their calls moved her from deep within.

Nahi glowed under their calls her skin the most radiant Maliha had seen it.

The holy woman stepped forward with a pure white bowl with sticks and hay inside. Her back hunched with old age as she set the bowl near Nahi's feet. Pulling a small pouch from her pocket, she  sprinkled ashes inside the bowl and chanted over it, her body rocking back and forth on her knees.