the gaudiest bedding of Sister Sun, to broadcast her message.
Brothers and sisters, our Hama lives no more. Her life has left her.
Enga then sent a mental picture of the leader lying next to a drying pool of Red. She had a faint reply from Ung, but couldn’t tell exactly what she was conveying.
Sannum Straight Hair arrived first and put a welcome arm around Enga’s shoulder. She leaned into his warmth and rested her head on his chest, still feeling disoriented and shaky.
The rest of the tribe rose and gathered outside the dwelling. Some of the females peeked inside the tent to see for themselves, but most let Enga’s mental image suffice.
The birth sister of Hama, Nanno Green Eyes, entered the dwelling and spent some moments inside, alone. When she climbed out, she brushed teardrops from her face. Her hand left a dirty streak on her cheek. Nanno took a few shaky steps before some of her tribal sisters rushed over and helped her to sit by the fire. She stared straight ahead, her light green eyes wild-looking. As much as Enga disliked Nanno, she could not help but share the pain of her two losses so close together.
Enga felt compelled to send Nanno a thought. I know you are feeling pain. I share it with you, Nanno Green Eyes. Her answer was a narrowed look with those green eyes, but no return thought-speak.
Panan One Eye, the Storyteller, went in after Nanno, but only stayed a short while.
Cabat the Thick, the Most High Male, arrived with the last of the clan. Even though he was the most recent mate of the slain leader, as well as her second in command, he did not live in this place. Some males lived with their mates. But Cabat, like several other males, single and mated, stayed in the wipiti of the males. He had joined Hama at her place when she summoned him to couple. His steps, always heavy because of his weight, were now also slowed with sadness, Enga thought.
While Cabat was inside, Panan walked around to inspect the outside of the wipiti. He studied the ground and squatted twice, tilting his head to peer at the dirt with his good eye.
A very private thought leapt into the mind of Enga. Hama’s garment has been ripped open. Could her mate, Cabat the Thick, do something like this? In anger? Or a former mate?Panan One Eye? She could not envision such a thing. She suppressed these speculations and saved them for another time.
Enga squatted with Sannum outside the wipiti and watched her bereft tribe congregate in the darkness. Zhoo of Still Waters, the Healer, stayed with Ung Strong Arm, but the rest of the clan shuffled about or squatted, wiping tears with the backs of their hands. Enga felt unable to move. The two remaining Elders had once again put on their mourning cloaks of black bearskin.
Cabat the Thick emerged from the wipiti and looked around at the group, then came over to Enga and reached for her arm to help her up. You did a good job, announcing the death of our leader. That was not an easy task.
Enga nodded to him. He and Sannum led her over to the gathering place. She sat beside the fire, burning low now. Soon they all squatted together and joined their voices to raise a keening lament to the heavens, to whatever Spirits would listen.
Panan sent a message to the hunters who were away. Our leader, our Hama, has been slain. We sit in sorrow. Enga, along with the rest of the Hamapa, received the vibrations of the sorrow from the hunters, mingled with that of the village.
Under the stream of sorrow, though, Enga could feel an undercurrent of disbelief, quickly turning to anger. Or was that fear? It grew in strength; it must have come from more than one of them.
Several of the males bore the body out with great care and laid it on Hama’s sleeping fur next to the central fire, where the whole tribe could gaze upon their fallen leader. Some rose and stroked her cold, unresponsive skin.
Enga longed for Ung to be conscious enough for her to exchange private thoughts with, although she did not know