Distant Fires Read Online Free PDF Page A

consternation. “Why did you not tell me before?” Her voice rose frantically, rousing her aunt and numerous others, to semi-wakefulness. “If she shows strain, then I am to blame. She has planted far more than her share, just to ease my labours. It is only now, as you speak, that I…”  
    She made to stand, but the voice of her sister, halted her in mid motion, “Calm yourself, Ehta,” she commanded, low and stern. “...I meant not to alarm you.  Mother is very...tired. That is all.”  
    Tahne shook her head, angry for setting these events in motion, and mystified by the irrational urgency of Ehta’s response. Since the time of the last war party, Ehta seemed much changed.  
    In her view, the death of her brother-in-law Salgan offered no great loss; his much-vaunted craftsmanship was far less important than his lack of ability in other areas. Unlike her husband, a great warrior chief who rarely shared an intimate word with his wife, Salgan did little more than shame the family with his fawning ways and womanly interests. Perhaps that Ehta could no longer share her workload with another was at the root of her discontent, for in all ways, she was better off without him. The possible loss of yet another baby, she reasoned, held her deepest concern.  
    I hope the child comes soon, Tahne thought, in a rare expression of sympathy, doubtless the event would restore her. “If it will please you, sister,” she sighed in resignation, “I will see to her myself.” Gathering the sleeping infant to her shoulder, she carefully stepped between bodies, gradually retreating into the darkness.  
    A quiet descended around the fire; the murmuring of a few, young Huron slaves, adopted by the tribe some time before, lingered as the only human voices. In the distance an owl hooted, the crickets kept their steady chirp, and, now and again, the sound of a bat honing in on an insect broke the nocturnal peace.  
    Waiting...waiting...Ehta’s entire life amounted to one long wait—for the miracle of Salgan’s return...for the birth of her child...she reflected on what it might look like: a son, no doubt, as handsome and gentle as her husband. She had no delusions about the knowledge that she would soon remarry; her children needed a provider, but she shuddered to think of the intimate physical duties imposed upon her, and the unrequited silence of her heart.  
    Time passed. Ehta gazed up at the stars, chiding herself for allowing logic to elude her. Surely, they would have been alerted to a problem by one of the female elders who chose to stay behind with the children, had anything been wrong...but...why was Tahne taking so long?  Had she been detained by the needs of her children, or was she so angered by Ehta’s behaviour that she couldn’t bring herself to return?  
    Guiltily, she struggled to her feet to put the matter right, stepping around bodies in the failing firelight; some curled up and silent, others outstretched and noisily snoring, as she worked her way to the area of thinning trees leading to the fortress.  
    The trees were a bower above, and somewhat sheltered from the breeze, creating a walkway noticeably dank, as evidenced by the sweat of garments which clung to her expectant frame, tempting her to return to the comfort of open air.    
    A crackling sound in the bushes further along caused her to stop. Listening intently, she waited, and satisfied at hearing no untoward sign, continued on. Again, she stopped short. Hollow thuds, like that of an animal chasing over countless layers of compressed needles, caught her ear. Likely a deer , she thought, knowing the area was commonly used as a crossover in their nightly quest for water. Moonlight shone upon the entrance to the palisade. She felt a certain relief.    
    A shadowy figure appeared ahead—Tahne. Had she found their mother in a condition too worrisome to relate?  
    “Is she alright?” Ehta whispered loudly, “I had to come.....Tahhhh...”