Then.
Jonah Yauni was
the most prestigious man in Onua Chamtong's tribe. She had always looked up to
him in awe and wondered who he would marry. She had crossed herself off the list
a long time ago, but, still, she couldn't help wonder... He was the handsomest
man in the whole tribe. With his silky black hair and smooth features, he delighted
every woman in the tribe.
Once, Onua had had this
conversation with her mother:
"That Jonah Yauni,"
her mother had said, "Must be the most fine-looking man in this tribe."
"Mother!" Onua had
exclaimed, "What would Father say?"
In that division of the
K'miri, men were considered superior to women. The constant worry over what the
men would say about her conduct always hung over Onua.
Not that she let that
get in the way of her fun. She galloped bareback on her family's horse--or whoever's
horse was closest--almost every day. Her father never knew about this, of course.
And her dog, Say, a huge gray female, loved her and took every opportunity to show
it. This included much slobbering, wagging, and barking.
She had friends, too.
There was Bobo, who's real name she never knew; he was the clown of their tribe.
And there was Rhia and Sarra and Hona and Koa. Hona and Koa, twin boys a year older
than her, disobeyed all the tribes laws--with good nature, of course--and also
disobeyed the law that said teenage boys and teenage girls were not to associate.
And Rhia and Sarra were good to talk to about boys and secrets. And she was training
for using her Gift. She did not have much of one, only a small one for protection
mainly and some truth spells. Still, the village healer, who taught the Gifted
ones, taught anyone with a meager Gift. Some were sent to The City of the Gods,
a city in a far-away place known as Tortall. But Onua cared little about it. All
she knew was that she could put protective spells around her family's little hut
and they were safe; not even her father could do that.
Every day was busy now
that she was 14. She was a woman by the tribe's standards and every day was filled
with chores and learning. She cooked most of the time, learning many recipes, and
she cleaned her room and her parents' room. In her head, she thought of all the
biting things she could say to her parents when they told her to clean, but she
kept silent, knowing the penalty for speaking against one's parents. "Twenty lashes,"
she had heard Ry, Koa and Hona's father, yell one day, and soon they were brought
to the middle of the circle of huts and whipped them. They had refused to cook
for a lavish party he was throwing. "We're not women," they had growled.