Orson Card - THE SHIPS OF EARTH

"Why are you back!" cried Issib, who was holding Dazya on his lap on his chair while Hushidh was off peeing or whatever.

In answer, Nafai held up the bow in one hand, five arrows in the other.

She leapt to her feet and ran to him, still holding the baby—though Chveya soon lost her grip on Luet's breast and began to protest at all this bouncing when she was trying to eat. The baby was fussing rather loudly, but Luet paid no attention to her as she kissed her husband, clung to him with her free hand.

"You have the bow," she said.

"What is a bow?" he asked. "The Oversoul taught me how to make it—it took no skill of mine. But what you accomplished …"

"You know, then?"

"The Oversoul showed me in a dream—I woke when it ended and came back at once."

"So you know that we're saying nothing about it."

"Yes," he said. "Except to each other. Except for me to tell you that you are a magnificent woman, the strongest, bravest person that I know."

She loved to hear those words from him, even though she knew they weren't true—that she had not been brave at all, but terrified that Vas would kill her right along with the others. That she had been so relieved when Elemak came that she almost wept. Soon enough she'd tell him all of that. But for now she loved to hear his words of love and honor, and to feel his arm around her as they walked together back to camp.

"I see you have the bow, but no meat," said Issib, when they got nearer.

"So you've given up?" asked Mebbekew, hopefully.

"I have until sundown," said Nafai.

"Then why are you here?" asked Elemak.

Everyone had come out of the tents now, and were gathered, watching.

"I came because having the bow is nothing—the Oversoul could have taught any of us how to do that. What I need now is for Father to tell me where to go to find game."

Volemak was surprised. "And how should I know that, Nyef? I'm not a hunter."

"I have to know where to find game that is so tame that I can creep up on it very close," said Nafai. "And where it's so plentiful that I can find more when I miss my first attempts."

"Take Vas with you, then, to track," said Volemak.

"No," said Elemak quickly. "No, Nafai is right. Neither Vas nor Obring will go with him this morning as trackers."

Luet knew perfectly well why Elemak insisted on that— but it still left Volemak nonplussed. "Then let Elemak tell you where to go to find game like that."

"Elemak doesn't know this country any better than I do," said Nafai.

"And I don't know it at all," said Volemak.

"Nevertheless," said Nafai, "I will only hunt where you tell me to. This is too important to leave it up to chance. Everything depends on this, Father. Tell me where to hunt, or I'll have no hope."

Volemak stood in silence, looking at his son. Luet didn't really understand why Nafai was doing this—he had never needed Volemak to tell him where to search for game before. And yet she sensed that it was very important—that for some reason the success of the expedition hinged on its being Volemak who decided where the hunt would take place.

"I will ask the Index," said Volemak.

"Thank you, Father," said Nafai. He followed his father into his tent.

Luet looked around the company as they waited. What do they make of this? Her eyes met Elemak's. He smiled a tight little smile. She smiled back, not understanding what it was he thought was going on.

It was Hushidh who clarified it for her. "Your husband is the clever one," she whispered.

Luet turned in surprise—she hadn't noticed Hushidh coming to her.

"When he came back with the bow and arrows, it weakened Volemak. It weakened him yesterday, in fact, when it was Nafai who insisted on trying to continue. All the bonds that held this company together weakened then. I could see it when I got up this morning—fracture. Chaos verging. And something worse, between Vas and Elemak—a terrible hatred that I don't understand. But Nafai has now handed the authority back to his father. He could have snatched it for himself and torn us all apart, but he didn't—he gave it back, and already I can see us settling back into old patterns."

"Sometimes, Shuya, I wish I had your gift instead of mine."

"Mine is more comfortable and practical sometimes," said Hushidh. "But you are the waterseer."

Since Chveya was tugging away on Luet's breast, slurping obscenely, as if passionately eager to get all she could before Luet took off running somewhere again, it was hard for Luet to take her noble calling all that seriously. She answered Hushidh with a laugh. Her laugh was heard by those who could not have heard their hushed conversation; many turned to look at her. What could possibly be amusing, they seemed to be wondering, on a morning like this, where our whole future is being decided?

Nafai and Volemak emerged from the tent. Volemak's air of puzzlement was gone. He was firmly in command now; he embraced his son, pointed toward the southeast, and said, "You'll find game there, Nafai. Come back soon enough and I'll allow the meat to be cooked. Let the Dorovyets wonder why there's a new column of smoke coming from across the bay! By the time they can come and investigate, we'll be on our way south again."

Luet knew that many heard those confident words with more despair than hope—but their longing for the city was a weakness in them, nothing to be proud of, not a desire to be indulged. Vas's sabotage might have turned them back, but that would have made all their lives meaningless, at least compared to what they were going to accomplish when Nafai succeeded.

If he succeeded.

Elemak spoke to Nafai then. "Are you a good shot with that thing?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Nafai. "I haven't tried it yet. It was too dark last night. I do know this— I can't shoot far. I don't have strong enough muscles in the right places yet, for drawing a bow." He grinned. "I'm going to have to find some animal that's very stupid, very slow, or deaf, blind, and upwind of me."

No one laughed. Instead they all stood and watched him stride away, heading unwaveringly in the exact direction his father had pointed.

From then on it was a tense morning in the camp. Not the tension of quarrels barely contained—they had experienced that often enough—but the tension of waiting. For there was nothing to do but care for the babies and wonder whether Nafai would, against all probability, bring back meat with his bow and arrows.

The only exception to the general air of glum nervousness was Shedemei and Zdorab. Not that they were happy, really—they were as quiet as ever, going about their business. But Luet could not help but notice that they seemed more—what, aware of each other today. They kept looking at each other, with some barely contained secret.

It didn't dawn on Luet until late in the morning, when Shedemei was holding naked Chveya while Luet washed the second gown and diaper that her daughter had managed to soil that morning. Shedemei wouldn't stop giggling right along with Chveya while they played, and as Luet wondered about Shedemei's unaccustomed lightness of spirit, she realized: Shedemei must be pregnant. At long last, after everyone had concluded that she was sterile, Shedya was going to have a baby.

And, being Luet, she did not hesitate to ask the question outright—after all, they were alone, and no woman kept a secret from the waterseer, if she wanted to know it.

"No," said Shedemei, startled. "I mean—I might be, but how could I know so soon?"

It was only then that it occurred to Luet for the first time: Shedemei had not been pregnant till now because she and Zdorab had never coupled. They must have married for convenience, so they could share a tent. They had been friends all this time, and they were so aware of each other, Shedemei was so happy today because last night they must have made their marriage real for the first time.