Liamuiga

They had left two of the males behind for some reason and pushed on without them, leaving the road and going inland, where they hurried through fields and bush.

Lia did her best to put on a stoic facade as she strode beside the foreigners this dark night. But inside, she was trembling with nerves. 

She’d never done anything this crazy before!

Though she had to admit, it was not the first time that she’d done something wild. But this? Leaving her tribe?

The tribe had a culture of gender difference: some things were for women and others were for men. To be fair, it worked out well most of the time. Most people seemed naturally inclined to a certain division of labour and found fulfillment in their roles. But there were exceptions. 

Like Aricae, whose giant ears gave him his name, the chubby man who couldn’t keep his fingers out of the pot and who loved to cook, always craving new ingredients and recipes. No matter how often the other warriors mocked him and the women tried to banish him from their cookfire, he always found a way to create and come up with something new that nobody had ever tasted before.

Another exception was old Fou-fou, named for a chatty bird, the wisest woman in the tribe. As an elder, she often had more and better to say than the men when they gathered the male-only council. That was why her father and some others had often taken Fou-fou aside before tribal discussions for her input. Even if she hadn’t often made her opinions publicly, they were always sought after privately, and she’d commanded much more respect than most of the other tribe members, regardless of gender. 

Lia had been born to a sweet little mother, named Cacao after the ripe brown pods of the cacao plant, and an overly indulgent father, Hadali, who had been named after the sun. Ever since Lia had been a child old enough to stand on two legs and begun learning female tasks, she’d begged her parents to also be allowed to join in so-called male pursuits too, for she was athletic and active and thrived on adventure.

She loved her sisters and fellow tribeswomen, enjoyed sitting about the fire and talking of many things, and had fun coming up with pretty new fashions. She could cook, though she was no genius at it. But whenever she could, she’d also pursued things considered unfeminine. 

Lia had climbed the fire mountain many times, not just to the hot water pools but to the very top where she could dance on the peak. She’d swum with dolphins and hugged them in the harbour. She’d even swum with sharks out in the reefs, fending them off with her spear as she fished and dived for pretty shells. She’d journeyed to other islands, though she’d never been permitted on a raid, only on peaceful expeditions to fish or gather fruits or other materials. 

Her mother had always been more conservative and preferred that Liamuiga excel at the same things that she did, such as hair braiding and making dyes. Her mother was known for her cloth making. 

Her father hadn’t always given in to Lia’s desires, of course, especially when other males were about and listening. But he had always had difficulty telling her no in private, when the other warriors hadn’t been around to insist that she return to woman’s work.  

Lia’s father had taught her how to prepare and handle curare and how to use a blowgun. She had become an excellent hunter of birds, of which she was very proud. Her father had confided that she was a better shot than many of the male hunters, a fact that she resentfully kept secret while longing to show off. She’d grown up with more than a few bullying boys that she would have liked to put in their place with her superior shooting skills.

Lia’s heart both warmed and ached as she thought of these people. So many were gone. 

Fou-fou, the wise elder, had died fighting, trying to save the foreign woman that Lia so admired: Mei. Lia would dearly miss Fou-fou’s stern council and comforting, wrinkled hands.

Her dear father had been amongst those killed in his sleep by that foul monster, the one the others had drowned on the way here to Ichirouganaim, the island that the foreigners called Barbados. Never again would she sneak off into the forest to hunt together with him. Never again would she hear him call her his little star.

With the deepest of appreciation, her lovely mother had been spared and now travelled to a new home, the tribe rich with food and tools that they’d never had before, thanks to these foreigners. Though it was also the foreigners who had doomed her people in the first place. 

No, that wasn’t quite fair. As Mei had pointed out, if Lia’s fellow villagers, including her father, hadn’t sought conflict with the foreigners, if they hadn’t insisted on bringing them back as spoils of war, then the foreigners never would have been in a position to do harm in the first place. So there was fault on both sides. Which was exactly the kind of new way of thinking that Lia longed to hear more of.

She was both fascinated and repulsed by these foreigners. They were so barbaric in some ways, yet so amazing in others. 

They all seemed as ready to kill as the most bloodthirsty of her own Kalinago people, so it was no wonder that the Kalinago called them demons. She’d heard many stories of the way her people all over the islands and beyond had been butchered by them or fallen to strange ailments after being around them. Whenever the foreigners landed on the’s tribe’s island to hunt their own, the tribe always ran in fear, desperately hoping not to come into conflict with the red men and their deadly guns. 

And yet, there was more to them than that. Like with Mei.

She looked up and broke from her thoughts so that she could secretly steal glances at the object of her admiration. 

Mei was so tall and strong. She walked proudly and not only argued with males as an equal but even seemed to lead them! She wore the prettiest, blue coat and carried more weapons than the men did, surely both signs of great status. Mei had the most beautiful, easy smile that seemed to shine on everyone. 

Mei had argued with the warriors of Lia’s tribe without ever backing down when they’d shouted at her and bullied her. When the tribe had discussed the invasion of the red men and the future of Lia’s people, Mei had insisted that the voices of the women be equal to those of the men. It had seemed so natural to her.

Lia was in awe. To Lia, Mei was everything she longed to become: brave and strong, confident and beautiful. So when the time had arrived for the Kalinago and foreigners to part ways on the beach, her tribe preparing to sail to new shores, Lia had suddenly elected to stay behind with this powerful, breathtaking woman. 

It had not been an easy decision. Her mother had been in tears, so much so that others had had to carry her away, which had broken Lia’s heart. Lia, scared of the unknown, had been afraid to be alone from her people, not knowing if she’d ever see her mother or what remained of her tribe again. 

She did not know what these strange foreigners had planned in Ichirouganaim, why they were here or where they were going. She knew with a high degree of certainty that she was in danger with them and that she could die. And she did not want to die. 

But staying behind in the world she already knew so well had seemed a stale death of its own. 

Lia wanted to live. And for her, that meant growing beyond what was known to explore and experience the unknown. So here she was, risking her life for an adventure.

Nervous excitement prompted a shakey smile on her lips. 

Mei caught it and gave her a warm smile of her own. She said something in her language that Lia didn’t understand. 

Lia tilted her head in confusion and then frowned. “I want to learn your language,” she earnestly told the other woman. “I want to speak together.”

Mei’s brow creased slightly, then she chuckled and replied with something that sounded encouraging and gave a nod.

There was no way to easily understand each other. Lia would correct that. She would learn this strange foreign tongue. Because there was so much that she wanted to talk to Mei about. 

She giddily hoped they could be friends. Or more than friends: sisters! The thought of it made her want to dance and sing. Only the seriousness of the others and the danger all around kept her quiet. Recalling that danger brought her mind back into focus. She needed to be in the present and wary. Ichirouganaim was home to many foreigners and the red men. 

They crept along the road for a short while, moving south. Lia saw entire fields where only a single plant grew. It was so unnatural and strange compared to the chaos of the wilderness. Yet some of it was surely food. 

She recognized the tall grass that could be chewed for a sweet treat. There was so much of it here! And the cotton plant that her people harvested to make clothing with. Soil squished between Lia’s toes as she wound her way around knee-high cotton plants in neat rows. How her mother would love this place when the white flowers came!

At the place they’d raided earlier, she’d discovered a brilliant red berry or fruit of some kind in the fields. Mei had called it a tomato. Lia had eaten one and rather liked it. Mei had also shown her potatoes and carrots and cabbages. Walking along, Lia now saw thousands of such plants, more food than her tribe could live on for a year. It reminded her of the meaning of her own name: fertile land. She marvelled at the crops and wondered what they could possibly need so much food for. Perhaps a great many foreigners were fat.

Lia got her first hint of their civilization as they neared a place called Speightstown on the coast. It was a village of foreigners. Yet it seemed strange to call it a village as it bore only a faint resemblance to the likes of her own. 

She saw buildings that were many times the size of the huts her people used, like the ones from the plantation, but more than she could count. Her jaw dropped at the sight. Just how big was this village?

Mei saw her expression and laughed under her breath. 

Looking back over her shoulder, Lia studied the two men behind them. 

So far, she had the most respect for the black-skinned one. He was serious but also had a radiant, white smile that made her think of him as grandfatherly, despite, or perhaps because of, the dangerous glint that sometimes appeared in his eyes. She’d seen something like that in one of the elder warriors who died a few years ago, with many legends of bravery and cunning to his name.

The pink-white man she didn’t like at all. He seemed childish and weak. He’d attacked Mei on the boat and Lia didn’t like the way that she caught him sneaking looks at her. If he tried to hurt Mei again, Lia would use her curare on him. And then skin him alive while he watched.

The other two males hadn’t returned yet.

She thought that the tall, big one was handsome but sad and wondered, as she had before, what it would be like to mate with him. The idea of being with a foreigner was strange, even perverse, and yet titillating as well.

The little one was younger than she was and almost as short. She wasn’t sure she liked the way that he hung his head and glowered sometimes. He seemed to carry some deep anger inside and she wondered why. 

All except the black one were clumsy, not hunters at all, especially pink-white. 

Lia lifted her head with pride. She herself was far more graceful and quiet. She smiled to herself. While she wasn’t clear about the purpose of their mission, she did understand that it was a kind of hunt. 

She was going to prove to herself and Mei both that she could be a great hunter. Better than the others. She would make Mei proud of her.

That was why she’d volunteered to be one of those who had gone into the house with many warriors and why she had, for the first time in her life, killed another person. It had been awful and bloody and terrifying. But she would not let that stop her from being a warrior too, just like Mei. 

As they encroached on the huge buildings of the foreigner village, Lia gaped up at the windows and roofs high overhead. These places were made of wood beams and blocks of stone that were beautifully constructed and far heavier than anyone should be able to lift. How had they been able to do that? It must have taken more people than she could count.