Read Norseman Chief for Free Online

make them up.  I just don’t know the words in your language.  I’ve never heard any of your people use them.  It would be best if I went to my home and brought a book to show you what I mean.”
    Now the old hag, my nemesis who burned my chest, piped up, “You won’t go anywhere until we get this work done.  You are to be a woman of the tribe and our women don’t go running off to their houses during the day to gather beads or other nonsense.  That sort of carelessness is for men.”  She gave me a squinting glare.
    Thankfully Hurit broke the tension as I thought I might walk over to the woman and cuff her head.  “You may show Kesegowaase and me these books tonight after the evening meal.”
    . . .
     
    Shouts from one of the returning hunting parties interrupted our work shortly thereafter.  Etleloo’s men called for the older council members left behind as they bound from the forest.  Heads and eyes throughout the village craned toward their cries.
    Etleloo was at the head, three of his warriors dragging deer carcasses on slabs of wood through the snow came at his heels.  He strode to where I stood, propping his hands at his waist in a wide stance, “Leave the beasts for this hearty woman to clean by herself,” pointing at me with a gesture of the head.  “The men of the village have real business to discuss.”
    His three soldiers obediently rolled the dead deer from their sleds, sprawling them out against me, turning the snow red when the blood clots shifted loose.  Without a word all the men marched to Ahanu’s humble bark house, entering the low door.  Each woman, all of my helpers scattered toward the thin bark walls so they could hear what news Etleloo brought to the chief.  Bands of children abandoned their play or chores in the waning winter light to see if they too could discern what was said around the council fire.
    Immediately I heard shouts of all sorts of agitated men, each trying to talk over the other to air his opinion on some matter of importance.  I remembered many war councils where King Olaf’s commanders all had differing opinions.  Sometimes it was the loudest whose path was followed, other times it was the quietest with the wisest solution.  Which would Ahanu and his people take in this case?  What did they discuss?  I did not know, but wished I did.  I longed for them to send a young warrior to retrieve me, pleading for all the knowledge or experience I had gained on the countless strandhoggs and battles I had seen.  My fingers tapped out an old tune on the ribs of one of their prey while I waited, but the messenger never emerged so I set about butchering the animals like the woman I had become.
    Midway through the third beast, the door of the chief’s residence popped open, surprising the women and children gathered around.  The young man who came out ignored them, striding straight toward me, “The chief wants you to come to his home.”  The man was halfway back to the council before I was on my own feet, my knees creaking like never before, my age showing itself.
    “Someone must finish the hewing,” I called to the warrior.
    He turned while still walking through the muddy path set between mounds of snow, “Have one of these gawking women do it,” fluttering his hands at the crowd.
    I tossed the stone knife I had been using to the old hag of embers, giving her a wink while commanding, “Butcher the deer.”  She stood there aghast with her lower jaw gaping open, a look of utter shock at the turn of events and my seemingly rapid promotion.  I dove through the door flap that was held open by the messenger and found myself standing outside a circle of arguing men inside the mamateek.
    Only Ahanu noticed my arrival.  He sat cross-legged at the far side of the circle, wearing buckskin leggings with matching makizins.  He wore a vest of sorts so that I could see his unmistakable tattoos travelling from his hands, up his arms, and across his chest.  Ahanu