Fargoer (5 page)

Vierra repaired the lean-to. She delayed her departure until the last glimpse of light, but finally she had to go.

“I will be back in the morning. You will be fine as long as you add wood to the fire occasionally.”

“Thank you,” said the man, trying to express his gratitude to Vierra in her language. He touched Vierra’s black wisps of hair, dirty and wet from the day’s chores. A smile found its way to the woman’s face. The pain and fear that had been in Vaaja’s eyes earlier were gone.

“I will return first thing in the morning.”

Vaaja squeezed her hand for goodbye, and neither one said another word. Vierra returned to her tribe’s camp and arrived when the last shimmer of daylight died into a pitch-black night.

The drum in the camp was booming no more, and the chieftain was carried out of her hut. She lay pale on the bark-decorated bunk. Death had taken both the pain and the energy out of her face, just a fragile old body was left. In the light of vibrant torches, she could have been easily mistaken as one who was sleeping peacefully. The tribe members, all the way down to the smallest children, had gathered around their dead leader.

“In the morning, at sunrise, we shall set her on her journey. We need to choose a new chieftain as well, as there are many things to be done before the winter comes.” Eera’s voice was tired. She would spend most of the coming night negotiating with the spirits. The chieftain deserved the best possible help on her journey to the underworld.

The honored leader was carried to Eera’s hut, which was forbidden to anyone else for the night. Vierra sneaked to the scene like the hunter she was. She didn’t want to raise any attention.

“Finally, the Fargoer arrives,” said Aure with scorn in her voice.

“What would I have accomplished here? Would your mother be alive if I had wandered around aimlessly here like everyone else?”

Aure did not reply, she just turned her back on her cousin. Her tear-lined face looked even more dirty than it was in the swaying torchlight.

The women’s hut was nice and warm. The bed skins were dry, and the firewood was gathered into a fine pile near the entrance. In the hut lived the unmarried women, of which there were only two in the tribe besides Vierra. Rika was still helping Eera conduct her matters, but Launi, who took care of the women’s hut, had already gone to sleep in her own spot. She was a simple and silent girl, but took care of the hut remarkably while Rika spent time learning with Eera and Vierra wandered around wherever. Such was Launi’s spirit that she never had complained to the other girls of her assignment. Rika finally arrived at the hut and went to her spot close to Vierra. There was fatigue and evidence of withheld tears in her face. She was an emotional girl, and the day spent with the dying chieftain had not been pleasant. As she lay down to go to sleep, she asked:

“Will you tell me now how you used the medicine?”

“It’s better that you don’t know, so they cannot blame you.”

Normally, Rika would have persisted for a long time out of her curious nature. But tiredness and being so close to death had debilitated her thirst of knowledge, and she was content with the answer she got, at least for now.

“Tomorrow, a new chieftain will be chosen.” Rika was silent for a moment. “You would make a great leader for us.”

Vierra laughed, dryly and coldly, as was her style.

“You know very well that Aure will be chosen. That is what her mother has prepared her for. She cared for nothing else.” Vierra’s expression turned grim.

Rika opened her mouth to say something but decided against it and turned to lie down on her back. It wasn’t long until Rika’s even breath joined Launi’s heavier snore.

Vierra could not catch sleep, even though the day had been strenuous. She added firewood to the hut’s fireplace one more time. The embers would keep them nice and warm into the long hours of the morning. Her thoughts wandered fast from Aure and the dead chieftain to the lean-to in the forest, and to the new and mysterious inhabitant in it. The night went slowly, and finally Vierra dozed off in the morning hours, carried by restless dreams of blue-eyed men, black blades, and dark-haired persecutors.

Despite being very tired, Vierra left the camp when the first ray of light could be seen in the eastern sky. Others were deep asleep, and even the dogs were not aware when she had sneaked to the dark forest. She brought with her a big serving of dry fish and some cooked deer meat from last week’s hunt. Vierra stepped through the forest as fast as she could.

The morning unraveled, cold and clear. There was a thick layer of frost on the ground; the rain of the last few days had frozen onto the ground and to the trees. Here and there were leaves, bright in color, but most of them had changed to a brown, even mass. Even the evergreen conifers looked bleak in the cold light of the autumn sun. In the northern horizon, there was a dark, ominous front of clouds, which slowly moved closer when the morning went on. Arriving to the lean-to, Vierra saw the fire still burning joyfully. She realized she was relieved at seeing Vaaja in good strength, improving the fire.

“Vi-er-ra, Vi-er-ra,” the man tried to pronounce her name when she arrived. Vierra dropped her carryings beside the lean-to, and a smile forced its way onto her tired face.

“Let’s see your leg. After that, I must go immediately. The chieftain is dead, and I have to bid farewell. You will do nicely with this food.” Vierra knew that the man might not have understood what she said, but she felt that she had to give a reason for her departure nonetheless.

“Chieftain, big chieftain-man,” the man tried. It seemed that chieftain, as a word, was familiar to him.

Vierra laughed wholeheartedly, a deed she hadn’t done for a long time. “The chieftain is not a man. She is a woman. Wouldn’t that be odd, a man as a leader? Now, let us look at the wound and get you some more firewood.”

While working on the wound, Vierra tried to figure out why she didn’t grieve the old chieftain’s death. She didn’t hate her foster mother, not really. She had taken Vierra under her wing and done her duty. She had, however, given all her strength and energy to Aure, whom she wanted to be the tribe’s next chieftain. After passing to adulthood, Vierra hadn’t wanted to compete for the attention. The hurried chores disrupted her thoughts and forced her to focus on the job at hand.

Vaaja’s injury had started to heal well, the skin around it was only slightly red. Vierra washed the plant wrapping away and replaced it with a new one. She chopped more firewood from the dead tree she had found the day before, and with a wave to Vaaja she hurried back to join the ceremony with the rest of the tribe.

In the insipid light of the dawn, the Seita stone glowed reddish-brown, as if foreshadowing the scene that would soon follow. The stone was human-shaped and human-sized. It leaned toward the east, as if bowing to the rising sun. For some reason, no trees grew around it; there was just a circle-shaped area covered with an even carpet of moss. The tribe members silently arrived one after another from the forest. First came Aure with her two men carrying her mother on an ornate carriage. Behind them walked Eera. The night’s effort had exhausted her, and as she walked, she leaned on her red-haired apprentice Rika.

Behind them came the rest of the tribe with their children. Vierra was among the last. She had made it back from her early trip in the morning, but only after a brisk run through the forest. Every tribe member had firewood with them. Small children just had one branch, but men and women carried hefty armfuls. They approached the Seita stone and placed the wood on the ground, piece by piece. An even pile of wood formed near the stone, and the chieftain was placed on top of it, on her bunk. She was clothed in her best deerskin, and on her arms and face were painted beautiful, spiral-shaped patterns. Graceful was the leader in her dying dress, even though she had been old and sick. The torch that Rika had in her other hand was given to Aure, and she lit it using her tinderbox. Made of wood, skin greased in deer fat, and dry grass, the torch lit easily and burned with a large flame, fluttering in the wind. Eera sang with a clear voice as Aure lit the pyre from different spots with the torch:

Fade away in Kainu heartland
Pretty is the day to die
Beautiful to burn to ashes
Windy air with whom to fly

Start the fires down below
Keep your torches lighted
Guide your daughters, guide your sisters
Keep us all united

Until the last day will arrive
Setting of the final sun
All of Kainu then are with you
All of Kainu’s work is done

The dry wood started to burn, and the pyre flamed up high, driven by the strong northern wind. The old features of the chieftain melted in the fire, and a strong stench of burning flesh was released in the air.

“The smell of the netherworld,” Eera confirmed.

Nobody cried. The chieftain had been a tenacious woman when alive, and in the celebration of death she had to be honored the same way. If Rika, an emotional girl, would have been on the pyre instead of the chieftain, everyone would be crying and sobbing, as was her nature. Slowly the wood burned away, and the leader in the middle diminished until only charred remains were left. Eera smelled the flames and grunted approvingly. The stinging smell of death had evened out, now was the time for burial.

The men of the tribe dug a shallow hole through the moss just beside the Seita stone. When finished, they lowered the charred remains of the chieftain into the hole. Atop her they placed two iron-tipped spears, crossed, and a bear’s skull: the marks of a chieftain. They filled the hole until it was even again and stomped it well.

“This is the chieftain’s stone now. Here we can come for luck and advice, all of us who helped to ease her journey.” Eera’s face showed relief--one great deed done, the other still ahead.

“The leader has fallen, long live the tribe. A new chieftain on top of the old one!” Eera yelled, so loud that the meadow blared. “Aure the chieftain’s daughter, she is strong. Two husbands. Of her the new leader!” Eera presented her candidate in the traditional way, yelling energetically.

“Vierra is better, the one called Fargoer! Best hunter, best tracker, best woman with a bow.” Rika introduced the rival. Vierra looked at her friend.
I wish I had her faith
, she thought.

Silence fell over the field. Eera continued.

“Because there are no other candidates, the rocks shall decide. Those who are for Aure, put a white stone in the jar. Those for Vierra, a dark one.” One of the tribe members had carried with her a gathering jar. It was a clay jar of fine craftsmanship with a narrow mouth. During gatherings, all adults always had with them two stones, a white one and a dark one. Now everyone, when his or her turn came, dropped one stone in the jar, either a dark or a white one depending on which candidate was more to his or her liking. When everyone had dropped their stones, Eera took the jar and held it high over her head. She poured the rocks out near the Seita stone, unto the even, mossy surface. Just a few dark stones fell down among the white ones. There were many rocks on the ground. In Eera’s youth, only women could carry gathering rocks, even though men and children could participate by attending the gathering. These days, men were considered equals and could vote, and even male witches had been seen in the winter camps, singing songs. However, the role of the chieftain was still always held by a woman.

“The rocks have spoken, Aure is the new leader of our tribe.” From some stash in her garb, Eera dug out a necklace made of bear claws. She had taken it from the old chieftain’s neck during her session with the dead. Slowly she strung it around Aure’s neck. It would not be taken away as long as Aure ruled. The tribe, as one, let out a primal cheer, as much for the luck of the new chieftain as to drive away evil spirits. Aure’s sad and tired face turned stern as she started. Now was the moment for which she had been so long prepared.

Vierra looked at her cousin, who was enjoying that brief moment in time. She had often wondered what life would be like after Aure became the chieftain. Now, in that instant, she saw Aure in front of her as the same Aure as always. The chieftain’s sash wouldn’t change anything between them.

“Today we get ready for the deer hunt that is coming soon. We will gather our supplies and send the scouts--”

Aure’s first speech as the leader was cut short by a murmur that started in the crowd. “A Turyan, on holy ground! Turyan, go away!” was echoing from the people’s mouths. And it was true, a black-haired Turyan man stepped into the middle of the meadow. His shoulder was in a thick bandage, and his dark, stinging eyes searched until they found Vierra in the crowd.

“You have invaded sacred ground, Turyan. You would not stand there, lest I dishonored the peace of the gathering. Go away while you still can.” Aure’s challenge was strong in the air: fresh power from the new leader.

“Honored chieftain. I approach your gathering with neither wily nor evil thoughts. I have come for justice. Is that not the purpose of this thing?” The Turyan spoke the tribe’s language with a heavy accent, but his words were clear.

“He is right, the old laws say that anyone can come to the gathering to give demands, if he subjects them to the tribe’s will. The gathering-peace concerns others than the Kainu, if they respect it by behaving right,” said Eera. Aure nodded to confirm the words of her elder. The expression on her face revealed a mind filled with uncertainty.

“Fine, my name is Tuura, and my demand is for that woman.” The Turyan pointed his finger at Vierra. “Yesterday, she interfered with a matter that does not concern her: the punishment of a thieving slave. She also wounded me with an arrow.” The man revealed his shoulder beneath the bandage. It had an ugly, ragged wound. An ordinary man wouldn’t be standing with a wound like that, but this one did not seem to mind or care.

“Do you deny this, Vierra? Is he a liar, or did this happen?” asked Eera. Everyone’s eyes turned to Vierra, who looked uneasy. At last she spoke.

“It happened like he said. He tried to kill the man, and I stopped him. I could have shot into the heart instead of the shoulder.” There were sighs from the tribe in the air and then a deep silence. Even the children were quiet, sensing the tension.