The Flute Player. Chapter 1

A thin wailing, as if the desolate wind was attempting to sing, came out of the east, rising in a trilling crescendo before dropping abruptly back into inaudibility.  That was the sound the elder was waiting for.  

"It is time." She spoke softly, jarring the gathered figures into nervous motion.  One uncovered a clay pot, and stooping, coaxed the live coal within to light the prepared wood.  The flames spread quickly, racing through the tinder, sending tendrils to lick at the harder kimmel wood which made up the majority of the pile.  Shadowed figures were revealed, eight sitting girls in elaborately patterned gray wraps, blinking against the sudden light, eyes flickering from the new fire to the distance where the wailing answered the fire's birth.  

The elder lifted a curving horn from her side, rattling strings of shell beads as she brought it to her lips and sounded a long low note.  The wailing answered, increasing in volume as it wove an intricate melody around the call of the horn, fading as the elder trailed the horn's call to silence.  

Several minutes passed, any hint of noise from the girls bringing the elder's dark eyed glare upon them

Thud!  A single drum beat cut the air, deep and sharp, drawing several startled gasps from the nervous girls.  The one who had lit the fire struck again with the switch.  Thud!  Thud!  The distant wailing rose again in clipped notes, drawing closer and bringing with it the sound of many dancing feet.  Thud! A final sharp hit and the drummer tossed the switch into the fire, picking up the tempo of the approaching dancing with hands alone on the old drum.  

A final glare was cast at the seated girls as the elder made sure everyone and everything was in place before turning to face the ones who approached.  "We welcome you who plays the wind's flute.  We welcome the gift you bring to our tribe.  We welcome you."  The elder bowed, shell beads rattling as the flute player danced into the firelight.

The flute player was elaborately dressed, red sheshal hair streamed from his arms and flowed down the back of his black mask, while stiff white jaral tail feathers quivered from the shoulders of a simple black half cloak.  More jaral feathers, these the shorter body feathers, edged the half cloak, his simple black loincloth and ringed the flute player's ankles and thighs, standing out sharply against the black paint that covered every inch of the flute player's exposed skin.  

Feet never ceasing their dance, the flute player removed the flute from his mouth and bowed to the elder, gesturing with the feathered end of the flute towards the young men dancing their approach to the fire.  

"We welcome your choices, and hope that they will bring benefit to all."  The elder replied, stepping back to stand beside the drummer.  

The flute player nodded once, then turned in a leap that carried him halfway to the seated group of girls.  The young men, clad in white leather loincloths, and carrying simple wooden spears, formed a ring around the fire, feet thudding to the ground, dancing in time with the drum beats.

The flute player bowed once again towards the elder, bringing the flute to his lips as he danced his way around the eight seated girls.  Coaxing notes that seemed to query the girls flowed from the flute, encircling their down turned heads.  The flute player's dancing emphasized the music, circling the girls while bending to peer closely at their shadowed eyes.  

At the fire, the young men were circling, backs turned to the flute player as they danced, spears held just out of reach of the hungry flames.  The elder watched over everything from beside the drummer, who had slipped into a light trance.  She felt the music of the flute coaxing the girls, watched as they resisted it's pull, refusing to look at the red-streamered form of the flute player, even when his masked face was inches from their own.  

Abruptly, the tone of the flute shifted, changing from the querying/coaxing tone to one of complete derision, mocking everything it had just questioned.  The player turned his back to the girls, strutting towards the fire to spin wildly around the young men, all of which studiously turned their backs to him.  Feathers bobbing and sheshal hair streaming, the flute player whirled around the fire, flute notes swirling and swooping through the throbbing drum beats.  

The elder noticed it first, the glitter of a pair of eyes watching the dancers from the group of girls.  A drum beat later, the flute player's whirling dance landed him in front of the girl, quick enough that she didn't have time to drop her gaze.  Playing with one hand only, the flute player reached down to the girl, inviting her to join in the dance.  Uncertainly, she stood, feet patting softly to the drum beat as the flute player led her by the hand to the fire, where he led her around the fire once and placed her hand on the spear shaft of one of the young dancing men.  

The young man, who had his back turned to the flute player, turned to face the source of drag on his spear as the flute player danced off in a laughing swirl of notes.  The girl who had been led over to the dancing man smiled shyly and, never letting go of her grip on his spear, pulled the young man away from the inner ring of dancers.  The young man pulled back, dancing towards the rest of his group, sending the two in a jagged orbit of their own around the fire.

The flute player, well satisfied in his first match, caught the glint of another set of eyes from the gathering of girls.  In a beat he was standing before the girl, holding out his hand to draw her over to another of the young men

One by one, the matches were made, and the elder was soon watching all eight of the girls dance around the fire, their wraps swirling as they maintained their holds on the spears of the young men chosen by the flute player to be their partners.  Several young men remained dancing close to the fire, but that was to be expected, and there was no stigma attached to not being chosen.  The flute player would find a match for them in another village.  The elder thought back to when she had sat in the huddle of girls, waiting for the flute player to draw her into the dance, thinking of the numbers of girls she had brought to the dance to be partnered as she watched him cavorting, playing celebratory rills and swoops.  

Her musing was cut short as the drum beats began to slow, reminding the elder that in the present the fire was beginning to die down, signaling the end of the dance.  She brought her horn to her lips once again, and listening for the flute to fade, sounded two short high notes, following them with the single long low note that had begun the dance.  The drum beats slowed further, sounding a last quiet patter as the horn's note ended.  

Chests heaving from the wild dance, the couples turned to where the flute player stood, arms crossed and steady as if he had just taken a leisurely stroll, and saluted him by holding up the spears they held.  He gave a single satisfied nod, and gestured to the unpaired young men, who had turned to face him as well when the dance had ended.  They followed him in an orderly line as he presented himself before the elder, who bowed before speaking.

"Once again you have brought us your gift.  Allow us to repay you, and to give you shelter for the night." the elder spoke the ritual words with a smile.  The flute player nodded, then stepped beside the elder as she proceeded towards the two long, low, men's halls, stopping before the one which had been decorated with green branches and white jaral feathers.  

Each nodding their respect to the flute player and the elder, the young men stooped to enter the half buried hall.  The clean scent of yevel fronds and steam wafted out of the doorway, showing that the steam bath was ready, and faint voices showed that the village's population of un-partnered men were already in attendance.

Shutting the hide flap behind the last young man, the flute player fell into step beside the elder as she made her way to her hall, passing the other halls of the elder's complex on the way.  The feathers on his shoulders brushed the top of the door frame as he entered, stooping to tie the flap firmly shut once he was through.

"I never get used to sleeping here." the elder sighed as she stirred up the hearth fire, adding wood before lighting two of the many lamps in the hall.  The flute player snorted in reply, beginning to remove his costume as the elder poured water, first into a small pot to heat for tea, then into a larger one for the flute player to wash the black from his skin.

Back at the fire, the newly partnered young men were being led by the girls over to the small single huts that had been constructed by the girl's families earlier in the season.  The drummer, warm from the drumming and from the lingering effects of the trance she had been in, carefully raked ashes and dirt over the remnants of the kimmel wood fire, banking it so that the heat could continue to bake the sheshal boar, various game birds, and other assorted delicacies that had been placed in the oven pit below it.  That done, she picked up the drum and carried it to her families main hut, where she reverently placed it in it's alcove.  

Her old mother smiled at her, proud that the ceremony had gone well.  "You did good my daughter.  Better than I when I first beat the drum." the old lady whispered as her daughter gave her a hug.  Blushing, the drummer bade her mother good night, and went through the short passageway to the room where her mate slept.  

At the men's hall two old white bearded men, who had long outlived their mates, watched the youngsters chatter with speculative eyes.  Exchanging gestures, they silently discussed possibilities of whom to send on, and who should wait till the next year.  

The arcs of night passed, the faint sounds of wakeful people fading as the leftover energy from the day wore thin, and beds beckoned.