Read Online Cry of the Wind by Sue Harrison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sue Harrison
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joy and wonder of having her own child filled her like laughter.
She ran a finger over her son’s cheek. Even in his sleep, he turned toward the touch, opening his mouth, moving his head until he succeeded in getting her fingertip to his lips. He sucked for a moment, then relaxed. She had just fed him, so she knew he was not hungry. A bubble colored by her milk lingered at one corner of his mouth.
Among the Cousin River People, the men were the ones who named the babies. Night Man would give him a River name, but that did not matter. Aqamdax would call him Angax, the First Men word for power. Surely such a name would lend him the strength he needed to survive.
Angax looked like Night Man, even Ligige’ had said so. He had Night Man’s strong chin and his eyes that tilted down at the sides. Just above his forehead a swirl of black hair turned a small circle, like an eddy at the side of a river; that, too, was Night Man’s. Aqamdax had counted her son’s fingers and toes, long thin fingers like her own, and she had unwrapped and wrapped him many times.
When she nursed him, small pains twisted just below her belly, but Ligige’ had called them afterbirth pains, something every woman had, nothing to worry about.
So now for Aqamdax there was only happiness. She had hoped Night Man would come to see the baby but thought perhaps such a thing was against River taboos. They were a strange people, with many things forbidden to both men and women.
Aqamdax had been out of the lodge once to relieve herself, her baby tied to her chest, but mostly she had lain still and watched her son.
It had not been a long labor, Ligige’ told her. Many women having first babies went a whole day or more. But Aqamdax had grinned and told Ligige’ that it had been long enough.
Before she left, Ligige’ had asked to hold the baby, then she had poked and prodded until Angax wrinkled up his face and began to cry. But Ligige’ smiled, and to Aqamdax’s relief once again pronounced him healthy.
When the old woman left, she had promised to send Yaa, so Aqamdax was not surprised when she heard someone approaching the birth lodge. She eased herself up to sit on the pad of moss and fireweed fluff that caught her afterbirth blood, but when the doorflap was pulled aside, it was Star.
“I have come to see my nephew,” Star said.
Aqamdax felt her heart quicken as Star held her hands out for the baby. “He is asleep now,” she said, and wished Ligige’, even Yaa, were there with her.
She pulled down the front of her shirt, adjusted the loose neck that she had made large enough for the baby when he was tied against her chest.
“See?” she said, showing Star his head.
His eyes were squeezed shut, and he had a tiny fist raised to his mouth.
“It is too dark in here to see him,” Star said.
Aqamdax pushed herself slowly to her feet. The first time she stood after giving birth, darkness had begun to close in around her eyes, but since then she had had no problem.
“I will come outside,” she told Star. It was nearly evening, but the sun was still up, and she could see the clear blue of the sky through a chink in the lodge wall.
Outside, Aqamdax again pulled down the neck of her shirt. Star patted the baby’s head, asked if Aqamdax had named him. She did not tell Star his First Men name. It was better to keep that name as a protection, known only to a few who could be trusted with the knowledge.
“I thought Night Man should name him,” she said.
Star shrugged, then she turned to point with her chin toward the village, and said, “Look. My brother wants to see his son. He cannot come too close, you know, but he waits for me to bring the child to him.”
Aqamdax wrapped her arms around Angax, bound safe and warm against her skin. Fear flooded her chest, and she could not breathe, then the fear turned to anger, as though she were a wolf mother protecting her pups. How could she give this precious son to Star? Perhaps if Ligige’ had
She ran a finger over her son’s cheek. Even in his sleep, he turned toward the touch, opening his mouth, moving his head until he succeeded in getting her fingertip to his lips. He sucked for a moment, then relaxed. She had just fed him, so she knew he was not hungry. A bubble colored by her milk lingered at one corner of his mouth.
Among the Cousin River People, the men were the ones who named the babies. Night Man would give him a River name, but that did not matter. Aqamdax would call him Angax, the First Men word for power. Surely such a name would lend him the strength he needed to survive.
Angax looked like Night Man, even Ligige’ had said so. He had Night Man’s strong chin and his eyes that tilted down at the sides. Just above his forehead a swirl of black hair turned a small circle, like an eddy at the side of a river; that, too, was Night Man’s. Aqamdax had counted her son’s fingers and toes, long thin fingers like her own, and she had unwrapped and wrapped him many times.
When she nursed him, small pains twisted just below her belly, but Ligige’ had called them afterbirth pains, something every woman had, nothing to worry about.
So now for Aqamdax there was only happiness. She had hoped Night Man would come to see the baby but thought perhaps such a thing was against River taboos. They were a strange people, with many things forbidden to both men and women.
Aqamdax had been out of the lodge once to relieve herself, her baby tied to her chest, but mostly she had lain still and watched her son.
It had not been a long labor, Ligige’ told her. Many women having first babies went a whole day or more. But Aqamdax had grinned and told Ligige’ that it had been long enough.
Before she left, Ligige’ had asked to hold the baby, then she had poked and prodded until Angax wrinkled up his face and began to cry. But Ligige’ smiled, and to Aqamdax’s relief once again pronounced him healthy.
When the old woman left, she had promised to send Yaa, so Aqamdax was not surprised when she heard someone approaching the birth lodge. She eased herself up to sit on the pad of moss and fireweed fluff that caught her afterbirth blood, but when the doorflap was pulled aside, it was Star.
“I have come to see my nephew,” Star said.
Aqamdax felt her heart quicken as Star held her hands out for the baby. “He is asleep now,” she said, and wished Ligige’, even Yaa, were there with her.
She pulled down the front of her shirt, adjusted the loose neck that she had made large enough for the baby when he was tied against her chest.
“See?” she said, showing Star his head.
His eyes were squeezed shut, and he had a tiny fist raised to his mouth.
“It is too dark in here to see him,” Star said.
Aqamdax pushed herself slowly to her feet. The first time she stood after giving birth, darkness had begun to close in around her eyes, but since then she had had no problem.
“I will come outside,” she told Star. It was nearly evening, but the sun was still up, and she could see the clear blue of the sky through a chink in the lodge wall.
Outside, Aqamdax again pulled down the neck of her shirt. Star patted the baby’s head, asked if Aqamdax had named him. She did not tell Star his First Men name. It was better to keep that name as a protection, known only to a few who could be trusted with the knowledge.
“I thought Night Man should name him,” she said.
Star shrugged, then she turned to point with her chin toward the village, and said, “Look. My brother wants to see his son. He cannot come too close, you know, but he waits for me to bring the child to him.”
Aqamdax wrapped her arms around Angax, bound safe and warm against her skin. Fear flooded her chest, and she could not breathe, then the fear turned to anger, as though she were a wolf mother protecting her pups. How could she give this precious son to Star? Perhaps if Ligige’ had
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