Walkers of the Wind (First Americans Saga) (Vol 4) by William Sarabande

Author:William Sarabande [Sarabande, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780553285796
Amazon: 0553285793
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1990-08-02T05:00:00+00:00

explosive. “For Naya, granddaughter of

Grek!”

Naya looked up. “A gift? For me?” She

felt Umak’s arm tighten about her as Manaravak lifted the garland from his neck and laid it around her shoulders. She was instantly engulfed in the rich fragrance of wormwood and willow, of thousand-leaf and bearberry, of sorrel and angelica, and of so many of the healing leaves that she had shown him long ago on that day in the gorge below Spear Mountain when he had made her laugh and they had frolicked like happy children until, in the end, he had made her cry. The memory disturbed her, as did his closeness. Sooner or later, all men made her cry.

Her free hand touched the leaves, as if she were not certain that they were real. There were so many that her fingers could not penetrate the varying textures of gray and green; nevertheless she probed deep enough to discover a sprig of dried berries. She plucked one.

An exclamation of delight escaped her lips as she looked at the familiar, wrinkled orb. “Oh, Manaravak, thank you! This is the best of gifts! There is nothing I have wanted more!”

Beside her, Umak went rigid. She could feel the anger in him as he commanded in a voice that was tight with control, “Give the garland back, Naya. You may accept gifts from no man unless I consent to the giving.”

Naya pouted. “But Manaravak has brought me berries.”

“Give them back.”

The tension in the air was palpable until Manaravak broke it with a conciliatory outward gesturing of his hands.

“This gift I bring is not for my brother’s woman, Umak! This gift is for Medicine Woman! This gift is for all the People! To make them live long and to take away the bad spirits of fever and pain whenever they are sick!”

“Oh!” cried Naya, suddenly so distraught that her hands flew to her face lest others see her tears as she thought of her failure to heal lana and the baby. “What have I said wrong?” asked Manaravak. “The gift I bring ... it is a bad gift?”

“No,” replied Umak. “It is not a bad

gift.”

Naya was grateful when he held her close. He was relaxed now. She knew that he would let her keep the garland. “It is a wonderful gift,” she said, then hung her head and snuffled through her tears. “It is just that it comes t-too Mate.”

“For what?” pressed Demmi.

Torka spoke. His voice was low and solemn as he explained how Naya had saved lana and her baby, only to lose them for want of the very healing leaves that Manaravak had just placed around her neck. “We have suffered much sadness since the night that the two of you disappeared into the storm. It is a good thing that you have come home. It is a good thing to have something to smile about!”

Demmi’s head went high as, in a gesture of goodwill that startled Naya, she reached out and laid her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

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