The Wolf the Wizard and the Woad Read online

  She slammed her medicine basket on her table, causing it to overturn and fall to the floor, its contents now in ruins. She then pulled Ci-Cero’s hands from her skirt and took her chin in her hand, making it impossible for the child to look away. Her dark eyes drilled into the girl’s face, and she felt a small tremble course through the child’s body.

  “No more! No more. You must learn to trust again, child. You’ve been with me and this tribe for several years now. I will never leave you. You have a home with me, with us. But you can’t continue to walk in my shoes with me. I need space of my own, and you need to find your place. This clinging ends today.” She stood then and pulled Ci-Cero by the hand and led her to the opening of the hut. “Go now. Take your furry friend and get out of this hut. Don’t come back before nightfall.”

  With that, she shoved Ci-Cero out the door and tied the flap opening from the inside. A closed flap tied from within meant you are not allowed to come in just now.

  Ci-Cero stood outside, trembling in her soft shoes. She scratched at the flap, knowing once Ooma had made a decision it was difficult to get her to change her mind.

  “But...I’m afraid, Ooma. I don’t know what to do. Please let me in.”

  Ooma went about her business and ignored the plea, aware Rakki would stay with Ci-Cero wherever she went. After many days of Ooma literally tossing her out the door and tying the opening, Ci-Cero discovered being outside was quite exciting. There was so much to see. She gradually made a few friends, particularly with some of the women, who appreciated her quick mind and deft hands.

  "Look at Ci-Cero's intricate weaving, how tight she can make it. Her small hands must help her keep the grasses in place."

  The women of the tribe were particularly surprised that she already knew basketry, and was very adept at gathering berries and edible roots, as well as grasses and fruits.

  Once she discovered the wonders of being outdoors, Ci-Cero would disappear into the woods with Rakki at her heels and not be seen again for several hours. Later, she would show up with numerous items that could be used for the evening meal.

  Chapter 6

  W

  ith her newly found confidence, as welcomed as it had been, Ci-Cero also developed a few behaviors that weren’t so endearing. Along with her confidence and spirit of independence, she was often self-centered and thoughtless, never considering how her actions might affect others.

  Most of her time was spent prowling the forest learning about nature and the animals that resided in this wonderland. There was a family of raccoons that lived by the creek beneath an old decayed tree trunk, and she often dropped pieces of plum bread when she went by. She called each bird by its name and sprinkled seeds under their nesting trees.

  On occasion, some tribe members had witnessed her interactions with the animals and still feared her, still thought she might bring disaster to them.

  “She talks to them, those birds, did you hear her? And they talk back. I heard them, I tell you. Maybe Tuutan was right, that she could be evil. No one can talk to birds.” Chaska, the tanner, was telling Salalie about Ci-Cero’s habit of talking to the animals, and this sour old maid would waste no time spreading his comments about the village.

  Ooma was delighted to have time to herself again and was happy Ci-Cero was becoming one of the tribe, living her life and learning about nature. She was quick to do her chores, mainly because she was then free to flee to the forest.

  There was one thing though—the tribal rules. Ci-Cero occasionally had difficulty following them. She’d broken a few of them and, with promises not to repeat the offenses, had escaped punishment. But today she’d committed a most serious crime, and this time even Ooma couldn’t save her from the punishment that would surely be given.

  Chaska caused a ruckus, running through the village yelling at the top of his voice. “She’s got to leave here. Doesn’t belong to our tribe. She’s an outsider. She must go.”

  He stopped outside the chief’s hut and called to him.

  “Chief Austenaco, come. This girl must leave here. She’s broken another law. She must be punished.” Chaska continued his tirade, his voice getting louder and louder. “Come see what she’s done. That animal belonged to me. It was mine. She has no respect for our laws.”

  On and on he ranted until the elders came out to see what the commotion was about.

  Chaska continued to yell. “She released him. Released him, I tell you. I’ve set traps for weeks now and I had finally caught him, but she let him go. She’s not Sohochee. We should banish her.”

  Finally, Chief Austenaco tired of hearing the noise. He stepped out, approached Chaska, then held up a hand.

  “Quiet, Chaska. What has happened?”

  Chaska took a deep breath and told his story.

  “There are only a few wolves now—most have disappeared. But there is one, a really big red one. It attacks at night, steals our pigs, and is dangerous. I’ve set traps for him for a long time. And last night I caught him. I left him in the trap and planned to remove his skin this morning, then tan his hide. But when I went to the trap this morning, it was empty. Empty, you hear?”

  “Well, if he’s as big as you say, perhaps he managed to get out of your trap. Have you thought of that?” Chief Austenaco was well aware of Chaska’s penchant for telling tales and embellishing events.

  “No. That girl, she released him. And she didn’t even deny it. Ask her. She’ll admit it.”

  Ci-Cero stood next to Ooma, but had said nothing yet, nothing to refute Chaska’s claims.

  Ooma put an arm around her shoulder, which was the only thing she could do at this point. “Ci-Cero, I cannot intervene in this matter. When a tribal law is broken, only the chief has the right to speak.”

  Ooma’s first response had been to give Chaska a piece of her mind, even though she had no doubt Ci-Cero was guilty as charged. Releasing a trapped animal. Yes, that was something the girl would do.

  “Yes, Ooma, I know,” she said, and stood quietly awaiting her summons.

  The chief motioned for Ci-Cero to step forward. “Is this true? Did you release the wolf Chaska had trapped?”

  Ci-Cero bowed to her leader. “Chief Austenaco, Chaska speaks the truth. I did release the wolf. But he is wrong about one thing. The wolf is not a he but rather a she, and the reason she is so big is that she will deliver her kits any day now.”

  Chaska ran to her side, shoving her backward. “What? You don’t know that. He or she, no matter. It will kill anything it comes across,” he yelled.

  “She was only seeking food to sustain her unborn kits, Chief Austenaco. I could not leave her to die in the trap. I released her, choosing to let nature take its own course. If she is to die, then so be it. I never see wolves in the forests. I think most of them are already gone. Papi told me they’d all disappeared in my homeland, and Rakki is one of the last of his kind.”

  The chief looked at this young girl, the one he had welcomed into his tribe, the one he knew Ooma cared for, the one he himself cared for.

  “Your kindness to animals is to be commended, Ci-Cero. But we must put the lives of our tribe members before the needs of the animals. I will think on this situation. There will be a punishment. Go now. I will call for you when I have considered the matter.”

  Ci-Cero bowed again and returned to Ooma’s side.

  Chaska began ranting once again, not satisfied with how the event had been handled.

  “She should be banished, I tell you, banished,” he yelled.

  Austenaco raised a hand. All was quiet.

  “Chaska, this is no longer your problem. It is mine. I will decide her punishment. Be gone from my sight.”

  The punishment was bitter. Some would have considered it cruel. Ci-Cero was sentenced to stay in the small hut on the outer edge of the village. Alone. She could receive no visitors, not even Ooma, and could not leave the hut for a period of seven sunsets, which seemed a lifetime sentence to such a young girl. But she could have received a h
arsher punishment. She could have been banished.

  However, Ci-Cero was not alone during her time of seclusion, not totally that is. Each night the wind sang through the trees and brought with it the same sound, the one she’d heard all her life. There were never words, just a seducing sound and a feeling that she was being called. But to where? And who or what created this sound that pulled at her soul?

  She’d always feared it might be the “evil one who would seek to steal thy gifts and power” that the legend spoke of, and she’d resisted it all these years. But now, on the last night of her sentence, she lay on a mat in the small hut in the dark of night with only Rakki at her side. As usual, when she began to drift off to sleep, the familiar sound and feeling flooded her body. The Presence was calling. But this night, she made a decision, one she’d thought about for some time.

  Perhaps just this once, I’ll not fight it. I’ll listen with an open mind, she thought as she held Rakki closer.

  For the longest moment, she only heard and felt what she’d always experienced, someone pulling at her, pleading with her, but without words, just an instinctual knowledge she should listen and follow.

  Then, the moment she opened her mind and heart just a fraction, she sensed a change in the sound. The caller was closer somehow, and Ci-Cero intuitively understood it had no intention of causing harm.

  All I sense is peace, a calm, quiet Presence. Not evil. Not what I had thought. I wonder, have I spent these years fighting the One, the One who is to guide me? Perhaps I’ll tell Ooma. Or maybe not. Not just yet.

  No longer frightened of the sound and the feelings it evoked, she drifted off to sleep and didn’t awake until the sun was high in the sky, waiting for her to return to her world. The sentence had come to an end.

  She fled to Ooma’s hut, where she was met with a warm hug and a few suggestions. “You must learn to think of others, Ci-Cero. You’re part of this tribe, and we all must consider each other in our habits and actions. Think, child, think before you act.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  After having been restricted for such a long period, the message registered, and she truly did make an effort to think before acting, and made sure to tell Ooma when she was going off on one of her expeditions. But in spite of her promises, she was a free spirit at heart and occasionally forgot to follow Ooma’s suggestions.

  This morning, she awakened early and wanted to get to the forest quickly. She’d seen something interesting the previous day, a litter of fox kits. Maybe the mother was the female wolf she’d released from Chaska’s trap. Perhaps, if she got there early, she’d be able to get another look at them.

  So, with that in mind, she dashed out of the hut, and the thought of telling Ooma never crossed her mind. Once again, she’d given no thought to how her actions may affect others in the tribe, sometimes all of them.

  She and Rakki sprinted to the forest and hadn’t gone far when Rakki stopped abruptly, a warning sign Ci-Cero knew was to be trusted. She stood very still.

  “What do you hear, Rakki?” She looked about but saw nothing. That was unusual—for nothing to be amiss when Rakki thought it was. She waited another moment, but still saw nothing.

  "I don't see anything. Whatever it was has moved on."

  But when she took one step forward, she knew Rakki’s warning had been justified. The pierce of the fangs as they tore into her foot brought excruciating pain. The hideous serpent rose, almost standing, in a strike-ready posture and sent out its own warning—a loud rattle that told her it was about to deliver yet another deadly blow.

  Rakki's reactions were lightning quick. He flattened the diamondback serpent with one of his great paws, then placed all his weight on it. The sing of the rattles came to a halt, but the creature's body continued to writhe about on the ground. Rakki’s canines made mincemeat out of it in seconds. It would no longer be a danger to anyone.

  Having paid close attention to Ooma’s training, Ci-Cero knew how to treat snakebites, and was well aware she had only moments before the venom would flood through her body. She dug in her pouch for the proper medication, but before she could get her fingers on it, she fell to her knees. Her vision clouded and an overwhelming dark veil threatened to overtake her. Just before she succumbed to the blackness, she called out to Rakki. "Get Ooma, Rakki, get Ooma."

  When Ci-Cero had not shown up for the supper meal, Ooma was sure the girl had once again taken off without telling her. Ci-Cero might be forgetful and inconsiderate, but had never stayed out this late. Without hesitation, Ooma took action. She made a plea for help.

  "Chief Austenaco, please hear me. Something has happened to Ci-Cero. She’s never stayed away this long. The sun is sinking and I fear something has gone wrong. Please, we must go search for her."

  Tribal custom dictated that when a tribe member was missing the entire tribe would go in search of them. So it was with Ci-Cero. The tribe had traveled only a short distance when they were met by Rakki, who leapt high into the air, barking shrilly when he saw Ooma. He ran beside the medicine woman, barking incessantly, running to and fro, all but knocking her down in his effort to have her follow him.

  "Rakki, take pity on a crippled old medicine woman. Slow down."

  As they approached a clearing surrounded by a thicket of short brush, Ooma saw Ci-Cero's body lying in a crumpled heap, unmoving. It was easy enough to see what had happened. Next to Ci-Cero’s inert body were the shredded remains of a serpent, the diamond-shaped pattern clearly visible on the few pieces of skin still on the ground. Ooma had great respect for all animals, but was pleased to see that Rakki had vented his fury on this deadly viper.

  The medicine woman focused on the problem at hand and ignored anything or anyone around her as she mentally reviewed a litany of actions that would be required to save Ci-Cero’s life. She opened her medicine bag. The most important tool in her medical weaponry was confidence in her abilities as a medicine woman. While Ooma devoted her knowledge and skills to the task at hand, the tribe lifted their hands skyward, singing a song of beseechment to all spirits to return this most beloved family member to health.

  Ooma went about her task in a methodical, determined manner. She’d brought others back from snakebite poisoning, and had every confidence she would do so now. She quickly administered her medication and watched for signs of response, but for several long moments, nothing happened. Ci-Cero was still inert, limp as a rag doll. Ooma had done all she could. The rest was up to a higher power.

  Then, slowly, Ci-Cero’s color returned, her breathing became regular, and her heartbeat was beginning to return to normal. All good signs. She would recover.

  Old Tuutan, his baggy pants barely hanging on his bony hips, pushed his way through the throng gathered around Ci-Cero.

  "Here, hand her to me, she's not heavy."

  He insisted on carrying her himself and would accept no help. The irony of this situation was not lost on the others, and they hid their smiles behind their hands. They remembered what a pest Tuutan had thought Ci-Cero was when she first joined them.

  EARLY ON, TUUTAN WAS sure Ci-Cero was a bad omen and discouraged her being in his area of the camp. It seemed that every time he looked around she was practically standing in his moccasins with him.

  “Child, go and join the other girls. You’re in my way,” Tuutan complained. Ci-Cero seemed to always be near, which was true enough, because she was most interested in watching him perform his daily tasks: teaching the young braves how to make bows, spears, and traps for animals. As soon as they had mastered making their tools, he taught them how to use them.

  Ci-Cero wanted to watch Tuutan and learn along with the young braves, so she began to bring him bribes in the form of small baskets for his tools, strings for his bows, and foods he liked. He particularly liked the sweet, tangy fox grapes found deep in the forest and only accessible by someone small enough to crawl into the brambles that kept them hidden.

  Now, here she was again, standing behind his hut watching a
nd listening as he instructed his students.

  He pretended he had not seen her and sent up a prayer. Great Spirit, please send me a sign. Tell me whether to rid our tribe of this strange being before she brings disaster to us, or to accept her. Help me to know what you desire.

  The next morning, Tuutan stood under a hickory tree shaving off the leaves from a small limb he would use to make bow. He was startled when a branch from the tree fell on his shoulder.

  "What was that?" He reached and removed the branch, one that had some brightly colored strings clinging to it. A closer inspection of the branch revealed something that took him by surprise. "These aren't strings. This is hair. Long, curly, red hair. Where did this come from?"

  He rubbed his forehead with his hand, as if he had a headache, and gradually figured out what was going on.

  "You have spoken, Great Spirit. This is hair from Ci-Cero wound about this branch. This is your sign, telling me she has been woven into our tribe. You have answered my prayer, and your message is clear."

  Tuutan would never dream of questioning the Great Spirit. He decided then and there that he must accept Ci-Cero. And he would try. But he was still wary of her and hoped she would find another person to spend time with.

  However, a few days later, he was exasperated when he discovered her behind his shed where he kept his bows and spears. He sent up a quick prayer. “Spirits, please deliver me of this meddlesome child.”

  The next second he witnessed a scene that had him shaking in his moccasins. Ci-Cero was standing in the box he’d created for the braves, a box designed to keep their feet aligned properly and only allowed a certain amount of movement. Ci-Cero’s feet were planted squarely in the box. She stood straight, her chin looking sharply over her shoulder, her hips tucked under and shoulders pushed downward.

  It was apparent to Tuutan that she had been watching him instruct the young braves. To his amazement, Ci-Cero quickly notched an arrow into one of the bows—one that was much too large for her—and pulled back with her small arms.