CHAPTER TWENTY
Abed in the single women’s longhouse would do.
Its sparse population and central location in the tribe offered the safest place for Sidney to wait out the night and hopefully get some sleep.
Jahnu chose not to sleep, but rather posted himself outside the door where she slept, keeping vigil with the moon.
Infuriating woman—impossibly intoxicating, infuriating woman!
The contradictory feelings at war inside caused Jahnu to shake.
Searing words, “Did he know the cost of war?” What had she called it?
Collateral damage. Jahnu understood, too well, and cursed her for the thoughtless remarks, all the while fighting the urge to walk back through the door and kiss her hard on the mouth.
It would quell the restless longing he felt coursing through his body and keep her from speaking—at least for a while.
Her words hit like a spear because he knew she was right. His own son had been part of that collateral damage and now he realized she didn’t even know of his fresh loss. She didn’t know the half of what Makia had done!
How could he lead his people to live alongside Makia after so many losses from the fire? With so many wanting revenge—including himself—he must answer the question.
Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord, his mind offering solutions through scripture.
Yes, but when? And how?
Vengeance had been the language of the jungle tribes for centuries, and he didn’t know any other way to speak.
Freedom was truly a paradox, as Sidney had said. As their leader, it seemed the more he fought to protect the freedom of his people, the more his choices enslaved not only him, but all under his authority—the burden and responsibility was great.
How could she understand? She, with her red dress twirling around her cream colored thighs, breasts, full and tempting, hair, tawny as the thatch that covered the roof of his hut.
The woman was the first thought on his mind in the morning and the last thought at night, and she did not understand the burden he shouldered or what her presence was doing to his emotions.
A thump and shuffling sound from the other end of the porch shifted his attention.
Shemu, his father’s brother, had come to join Jahnu on the porch bench.
With a cane to lean on, his white hair and beard reflected the night’s glow of the blue hazy moon.
The leader of this eastern tribe for many years, Shemu placed his hand across his heart in a warm family greeting.
“Sleep does not come unless you give it a chance, Jahnu,” he said in their native language, easing himself slowly onto the bench.
“And how were your chances, seeing you are away from your bed while it is still night?”
“It is near dawn,” his uncle said, waving him off. “Besides, these old bones don’t need as much sleep now, anyway. What brings you here at such an odd hour?”
“I brought the medicine woman to assist Sali for the birth.”
Shemu was quiet for a beat. “Successful?”
“The mother lives, as does her infant son—the twin did not survive.”
Shemu leaned forward on his cane, thoughtful next to Jahnu.
After his father’s death, Jahnu had urged Shemu to take the position of Chief, feeling the elder’s wisdom surpassed his own—but his uncle refused.
“The line of succession must stay within the tradition of the first born son.,” he had said. “Those who do not desire power are usually the ones who manage it best.”
Jahnu admired and looked up to the wise old leader, and over the past five years had sought his advice and counsel as he navigated the precarious terrain of chiefdom.
“You take great risk bringing the white woman here.”
“Risk exists everywhere for her, but she poses no threat to us.”
“No, the threat would come from our own people. Mimbeck has already been through here stirring things up, and I fear he draws more followers to his faction. He has called for your replacement, Jahnu.”
Jahnu’s stomach dropped at the words. “He must challenge me, first,” he reminded Shemu of the tradition. “The role of chief can only pass if I am dead.”
“Would you put it past him?”
“I would hope my uncle does not desire to spill my blood more than his enemy’s.”
“What is an enemy except someone who stands in the way of our goals? Some do not wish to wait for reparations from the fire disaster. Some of the young men are bent on violence, and he knows it. They want to fight.”
“They have already been fighting!”
“Small attacks with little bloodshed. Only blood redeems blood, Jahnu. Mimbeck and his men want war.”
“War is what I have been trying to avoid, while still giving us a sense of revenge, and now we cannot stop the fallout with Makia.” Jahnu grew quiet, thinking. “I fear my wisdom is clouded by offense. My heart wants war, but my head knows it is not the answer.”
Shemu reached a hand to squeeze Jahnu’s. “I will not pretend to know what it is like to lose a child. You have born Talmu’s loss with wisdom, Jahnu.”
“Mimbeck does not think so.”
“And so we are Papua.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jahnu.
“Many years has this island been divided. Many years have we fought against control of our lands and the freedom to defend our way of life from outside threats. Now we fight the threat from the inside. We are Papua, the word itself means ‘not united.’”
“The dividing line is drawn, even in myself, Uncle. I want a war to justify what has been done, but cannot allow my own desires to make the choice for me. What can be done?”
“The world is changing, Jahnu. With every passing year I feel the loss of our stability and our leadership, in the younger generation of fighting men. The fact that you are chief during this dangerous time gives me great comfort. If anyone can reach them—it is someone closer to their own age.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.”
“What is your plan for the woman?” asked Shemu.
“I do not know,” he confessed. “Mimbeck acted without my approval in bringing her here, and in doing so, has broken the law of neutrality. I know she must be returned to her people, but relations with Makia are hostile, and now may prove even worse because of his actions. Perhaps I can send messengers to Makia. I could say we found her.” It wasn’t really a lie.
“Make an agreement. A trade. Her return for the end of the conflict,” but even as he said it, he felt like a coward.
Even if he could convince Makia to call a ceasefire on the fighting, he wasn’t sure Mimbeck or his followers would concede. “Mimbeck says she can be of use to our conflict, but I do not trust his judgment. And I will not have her caught in the middle.”
“But caught in the middle she is, Nephew. We may not understand it yet. Perhaps she will help the situation with Makia. Perhaps she will only make it worse. But she is here for a reason.”
The wise man climbed down from the porch and left Jahnu to his thoughts as dawn began to light the horizon. He agreed. Sidney was here for a reason. But that reason became less and less clear the more time he spent in her presence.