Winter's Tree

22 - Swelling the Banks

As the snows melted, Clans continued to arrive. Some were many, and some were few, but each group swelled the boundaries of their camp, forcing Ayessa to move the sentries further and further out. Tensions rose amongst the tents as strangers bumped elbows and squabbled over work.

One morning it was Taboua, in a huff over Nizai of the Sun Hill People, who had commandeered the woman to gather early mushrooms without first running it by Taboua. Ayessa managed to convince both women the camp was too large for either to tend to every detail and that they would accomplish more work if they worked together and split their tasks evenly. As she passed them now, she saw Azat of the Small Water clan had joined them and the three were gossiping happily while keeping watch over the women crowded around the cook fires. A bevy of crows Oyeka would have called them.

She passed, Obu and Ereku, the First Hunter of the Small Water Clan. The two men still watched each other warily, but the tension of the first weeks which had nearly brought them to blows had finally faded and while they would likely never be friends, they might yet learn a deep, abiding respect for one another.

She longed to join them in a hunt, but her days as Chieftain kept her day full from dawn to dusk.

Instead, she saw to the cook fires and the stores of food. She checked on the construction of new tents and advised new arrivals where best to erect their own. She met with the chieftains of the other clans and discussed how long to wait before making their move against the Northern People. It was always the same conversation. Fegan would advise caution, wanting to wait longer for more clans to join, while Yuro would argue for haste, fearing if they waited much longer, they would lose the element of surprise. Today was no different and by the time the meeting ended, the sun had set, and the first stars arisen.

Night being one of the few times she was free of obligations, she slipped into the woods and moved across the shadowed ground along the southernmost side of the camp towards the creek, passing the outlook with only a nod. She recognized him, but couldn't remember his name, having only arrived with the most recent clan, the Sun Hill, three days ago.

She stopped as she approached the creek, but made no move to enter it. Its waters overflowed their edges and rose high along the bank, almost swallowing the first line of trees. The water was too quick now and a swim would likely mean her death.

She sat instead, on a rock and watched as the swift current of water raced past her.

"Why are you following me?" she asked, turning her head to the left to peer into the shadows.

Eshemwa unfolded from the darkness and approached, stopping a few feet away, his eyes meeting hers. He didn't look embarrassed in the least.

"You are getting better at listening," he said.

She snorted and picked up a pebble, turning it between her fingers before tossing it into the creek. "Or you are getting noisier."

She thought he smiled, but it impossible to tell for sure from this distance in the dark.

After a moment, he said, "I wanted to make sure no one stuck a knife between your shoulders, while you wander like a fool in the dead of night."

"It is early yet," she argued. "There is still light."

"Said the Sun to the Moon," he replied.

It was her turn to smile. An old story, told often around the fires.

The Sun, a teasing temptress, would lead the Moon across the sky, and the moon, afraid of night would cry out and say, 'Stop, it will be night soon.'

To which the Sun would always laugh and say, 'It is early, there is still light.'

And so the Moon would continue its chase right until the Sun dipped over the edge of the earth and the Moon, attempting to follow would be trapped in a block of ice, unable to move until the Sun rose again, its warmth freeing the moon and letting them start all over again.

"Am I the Sun?" she asked. It was meant it in jest, but there was something in the way his dark eyes watched her that made her wonder.

She turned from him, her gaze falling once more to the rushing water. Picking up another pebble she ran her finger along its smooth edge. A lifetime had passed since she had last lain with Makaro. She had thought, maybe with the pain of his betrayal and the death of her father, that the part of her that had once desired had withered and died, but now with Eshemwa's eyes on her, that familiar tingle sparked inside her once again.

Deciding, she rose to her feet and faced him.

She tugged the sides of her tunic over her shoulder and let it fall to the ground beneath her. Stepping out of it, she stood naked before him.

He said nothing, but he didn't turn away either.

She took a step toward him, and then another. The night had cooled, and the air pebbled her skin, as his dark eyes, half shrouded in shadow watched her approach.

When she was close enough to touch, she lifted a hand slowly towards his chest.

He caught her wrist in his hand and held it.

Her breath quickened, and the little puffs of mist that escaped her tangled with his own. She could feel his eyes on her as she lifted her other hand towards his torso. This time he didn't stop her.

With one finger, she traced the line of his collarbone before trailing her finger back up along the curve of his neck to right below his ear. Then rising on tiptoe, she lifted her lips to his and kissed him softly. For a moment, he didn't respond, and she was afraid she had been mistaken, but then he pressed his own lips back against hers, first gently, then with increasing ferocity.

Letting go of her wrist, he scooped his hand behind her and pulled her closer. She sensed his desire pushing against her and it fueled her own.

She slid her arms behind his back and down to the edges of his tunic. In one hurried motion, she pulled it over his head, and let it drop to the ground. She leaned back in to kiss him, her bare breast grazing his naked chest. He lifted one hand to cup her breast, and she moaned against his mouth. She pressed into him, only the thin stretch of his loincloth separating them. She could feel his heat as surely as he could feel hers. Reaching down, she tugged it aside and caressed the length of him with her hands. His breath quickened and, sliding his hands down her spine, he cupped her backside and drew her towards him. Kneeling, he pulled her down with him and onto his lap, his need for her hard against her bare thighs. Readjusting herself, she rocked her hips slowly until, with a groan, he grasped her bottom and thrust himself inside her.

She had always thought of him as cold and distant, as something unknowable, but that night she felt his fire. His lips on her skin left trails of heat and desire while their hands explored every inch, every secret space. The world narrowed down to just them, and the pleasure growing within her, bringing her to new heights and finally crashing over her in wave upon wave of rapture. She cried out and Eshemwa thrust twice more before crushing her to him, tumbling over the brink himself.

She collapsed against him, spent.

He lifted a hand and ran it down the length of one braided strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger as he pressed his lips against her temple.

"You are unlike any woman I have ever known, Ayessa," he said, his breath hot in her ear.

She leaned back and peered into his dark eyes. "And how many women have you known?"

He chuckled then and rested a thumb along her lower lip. "Let's not talk of befores or afters. Let us speak only of now."

She smiled, and he lowered his thumb to kiss her mouth.