There were many nods of assent among the gathered tribal sachems. Deganawida knew that they all felt a distinct difference in the manner of their trade with Gallea and Midragard.
The Gallean merchants were very discreet in their trade, as many of their clergy condemned association with the forest-dwellers, and their strange religious practices. To the east, many genuine friendships had risen up among the Midragardans and those of the Five Realms, including shared visits, feasting, and exchanges of gifts.
Gallea had always looked upon the Five Realms as something savage, primitive, and pagan, where Midragard’s sons and daughters had recognized a proud and honorable people, with a resolute spirit. As each sachem reflected on the individual Midragardans that they knew and traded with in recent years, Deganawida was confident that they could not help but believe his judgement, as to who would remain faithful to them.
Yadajiwaken, one of the newly risen members of the Grand Council, then hung his own shell-belt for the very first time. “Some among the Anishin are not our enemies at this time. Some have vessels that can travel the Great Waters far enough to reach the first islands. We should send our elderly, and the smallest children, mothers, and the great matrons. If the Midragardans decide to help, then the ones most vulnerable can take refuge on those islands.”
“You will be an excellent member of this Grand Council, Yadajiwaken of the Onan,” Deganawida stated approvingly, seeing that even in one of their darkest hours, new individuals were stepping forward with wisdom guiding them. “You speak truly. There are Anishin villages out on the eastern shores who are not at war with us. It would not be difficult to reach them.”
Yadajiwaken looked very pleased at Deganawida’s words, though he made no reply. After he returned to his place, he was followed by several others who spoke of the difficulties facing an exodus to the southeast, though Deganawida noted that none of the others counseled anything in direct opposition to Deganawida’s own advice. At last, there were no others that desired to speak.
Glancing upward, Deganawida saw that daylight was beginning to fade. The time had arrived for decision, and he hoped that there had been enough discussion. He feared for the worst, knowing that many lesser decisions of Grand Councils had taken days to deliberate and decide. What he had asked of them was monumental, and unprecedented, in comparison to those issues.
“Now, we must see if there is consensus. There is little time, and the day is nearly gone. Before we are in danger of coming under the influence of the Dark Brother, I put this matter before you to decide,” Deganawida said. “What do you say?”
One by one, the sachems indicated their opinion on the matter. Even when the first twenty of the sachems had agreed, Deganawida knew that he could not get his hopes up, as even one sachem’s disagreement was enough to negate a cohesive decision.
Yet he could not stop his hopes from rising, as the thirtieth sachem affirmed agreement, then the fortieth, and finally the forty-ninth. Ronyadashayouh, the fiery Onyota sachem, was the last.
He rose, looked toward Deganawida with a resolute expression. “I, Ronyadashayouh, sachem of the Onyota tribe and member of the Shadow Flyer clan, agree that we must act as one body, and move to the east as Deganawida has spoken wisely of. As I am the last to speak my mind on this matter, you now have full consensus.”
The tension building within Deganawida dissipated instantly, and he almost sighed aloud in his sheer relief. The Five Realms had not been saved, but their chances of survivial would be much improved. There was utterly no doubt within Deganawida about that aspect.
The consensus had been reached just in time, for the light of day expired just as unanimous agreement had been attained. In a way, as dusk settled, the Light Brother passed jurisdiction over to the Dark Brother, as it had always been.
While agreement had been attained, not everything was a relief. As daylight ebbed, Deganawida still could not help but think that the light of one age was coming to an end, and that a new, much darker age beckoned.
*
AYENWATHA
*
Deeper in the forest, in a more remote part from where the villagers sheltered, another council transpired the following day. With the signs of invasion imminent, the summons had been sent out well before the momentous decision of the Grand Council.
Ayenwatha had sent the messengers afar in great haste, bearing the sacred leaf of the tobacco, and braving great danger on Brega steeds to reach all parts of the tribal lands. They had issued the invitation to the War Council being called by Ayenwatha. In all cases, the recipients of the summons had smoked the tobacco leaf with the messengers, in distinctive pipes fitted with narrow axe blades at their farther ends.
Setting out immediately for the Onan lands, tribal warriors flocked in from all around towards the Place of Far Seeing. When the designated day arrived, Ayenwatha was able to convene a very large War Council; one that was united in purpose and resolve.
Great numbers of warriors had answered the summons from all over the Five Realms. It was a concentration of the strongest, the bravest, the swiftest, and the most resolute of the able males from the five tribes. When a few contingents from the Gayogohon had arrived, and every tribe had warriors present, the ceremonies had soon gotten underway.
As with the Grand Council, the great War Council worked to keep the tribal traditions honored as much as possible. A shell-belt made up of white figures with hands joining, set against a red background, was displayed to symbolize both the presence of war and the alliance among the warriors of the confederacy.
Ayenwatha, in what was perhaps his greatest hour, was convening the largest War Council known to tribal memory. As the one who had called the War Council, Ayenwatha was accepted by those who had responded to his summons as the leader of the coming effort.
The Onan war sachem and honored member of the Firaken Clan gained widespread goodwill from the massed warriors when he named his war lieutenants. Five were chosen for the high honor, one from each of the tribes of the Five Realms. Each one was an exceptional choice, well regarded among the people of their own tribe, as well as the populaces of the other tribes.
Discussion of what was to come, and what the tribal warriors needed to achieve, then occupied the warriors for quite some time. Deliberations had focused not only on methods of conducting the defense of the tribal lands, and speculations concerning the enemy, but also about the issue of supplies for a sustained fight.
Those arriving at the War Council had come prepared, with pouches at their belts filled with corn meal, and quivers filled with arrows. Whatever remaining supplies that could be used by the warriors would be gathered up from the ruins of the stricken villages, as well as those that remained intact.
Even so, food would run low and quivers would empty if the fight dragged on for any considerable length of time. There would be few opportunities for hunting, especially with the woods filling up with battling warriors. Plans and contingencies had to be made so that warriors did not weaken from hunger, and bows still had arrows to loose.
The forest had then been filled with the sounds of chanting and rhythmic drums, as the warriors engaged in ceremonial dancing and ritual purification. There was little available for the traditional war feast, but the warriors ate what they could, and viewed the meager amounts of food in its more symbolic light.
Ayenwatha had then guided the long streams of warriors back to his destroyed village for what was to become a very contemplative moment. The long march through the woods had allowed the warriors a period of inner reflection, culminating at the site of the unprovoked, brutal attack on the Onan village where the Sacred Fire had been harbored.