3

Nathan looked at Yavonne with frustration. “Why do you insist on torturing yourself, and Chinedu? How could this be good for Jule? How could this be good for you?”

“Uncle, you know that Chinedu is the most loyal, compassionate, and caring man in this village. Who could be a better father to Jule than he? Who could be a better husband? I do not rejoice in my widowhood, but I do thank God for the opportunity to do what should have been done many years ago.”

“Which god do you thank, Yavonne? They have all turned their backs on us.

“I do not speak ill of Chinedu’s character, I watched him grow to be a man under my own roof. I am his adopted father.

“No, I ask you what kind of a life would you have for Jule? You are gifted with the ability to see beyond Chinedu’s skin, and you are not alone, but so many Kanna look at Chinedu with fear and distrust; they think he is a crow!

“Yavonne, your love is strong, but Chinedu cannot be for you. I am too old to stop you, but not too old to warn you. He often sees himself as bent as the bent people, as his father called them. He is not comfortable in his skin. Until he can stand up straight, and accept his place as a Kanna, he must remain in his hut outside the village, alone.”

Yavonne said nothing. Her heart betrayed her to such a cruel fate. Nathan was stubborn, but he was also wise. How could she trust Chinedu if he did not trust himself? She would wait to see what became of his promise to talk to Nathan, and cried herself to sleep cursing the injustice of the world, and all its gods.

In his sleep, Chinedu dreamt of unrest. He had heard the rumors of wide spread feuding in the north and in the west. As clans were displaced, they disappeared, or so the rumors went. Supposedly, the bent ones were growing in number.

In his dreams, the rumors were all true. Old disagreements were stirred with new hatreds, fueled by a growing fear. Villages burned. Dark, hideous faces hid in the shadows. Death struck at random.

And then, he remembered his father, his mother, his brother and sister. They had all fallen victim to the same fears and hatreds. They had fled Tukt in hopes of finding peace. He dreamt of a dark shadow following at his heals across a barren landscape, through dark forests, and a across flowing water. He saw Nathan’s eyes red with weeping--sons swept away by the shadow.

Chinedu awoke slowly. The decision he had to make was beyond his strength. He loathed the coming of day.

He made his way to the stream that ran just a few yards from his hut. His parents were buried here near the place where the crow arrow struck him that fateful night. He grieved for his parents nearly every day. They had made Yevalde feel like home. This morning, kneeling by their grave markers, he felt more alone than before.

Rising, he groaned in pain. His left hip and leg had healed well as a child, but not quite straight. As he grew older, arthritis had set in. He groaned, again thinking of the many years of increasing agony that lay before him.

Thinking aloud he said, “If I am to return to my people, there is no better time than now. I am still able enough to make the journey, and Nathan has enough health to complete Sebastian’s training…”

Why was it so difficult to know which decision was best?

“I gave Yavonne my word. I must follow through. Nathan will speak wisdom. I will follow his guidance.”