Nightfall enveloped the Blood Bird tribe, casting long shadows across the land. Anarungu hasn't touched Gnelsey ever since that night. Her belly swelled considerably, and now her milk was causing discomfort and issues.
"Shazram's body was never found?" Anarungu asked, leaning back in his chair. He wrapped his arms around Gnelsey and gently kissed her enormous belly. She leaned back, sitting next to him, her belly jutting forward. Everything hurt and itched, and she kept wanting to defecate.
"Shazram vanished. I think the lynxes ate the remnants of his body," said Jarkish, standing before the Chief.
"Any signs of the Blue Lynx then?" asked An.
Peacock, now larger than before, exhaled through its nose while lying at Anarungu's feet. The animal was asleep, but its ears listened to everything happening around. Its tail rose, reaching up to Anarungu's shoulders.
"No. Tatar'Atu and I scoured the jungle one more time this morning. No signs of them."
Anarungu nodded. "I think they've finally retreated. You can return to your hut and your wife, Jarkish. Thank you."
The hunter bowed his head and headed back to the huts.
"I think it saddens him that he can't be a father." Anarungu squeezed Gnelsey's stomach. She was just as beautiful with his child inside her as he had imagined.
"You can always do the same thing you did with Tila. Remember how happy Tat was when he found out she was pregnant?"
"Never. You are my only love, Mama."
She kissed him gently on the lips; he tasted milk. "Thank you for not sleeping with me anymore and for not making me do anything for you."
"I'm afraid of causing harm to our child while mating. What do you think—will it be a girl or a boy?" Anarungu gently kissed his wife's dark skin over her swollen belly.
"I think it's a boy. But you know what?" She smiled softly and kissed him again. "That doesn't really matter, my nestling," she added, touching his cheek. "I will love this child just as much as I love you."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"You know what I mean!" She nudged him playfully on the shoulder. "I'll love him or her in a right way."
Amidst the crackling of the firewood, Anarungu heard the faint cries and fluttering of a bird. A scarlet bird with wings shimmering dark purple in the moonlight flew gracefully above their tribe.
"Life is beautiful," Anarungu thought to himself, gazing at the night sky.
They returned to the cabin. Anarungu played with Peacock, tickling its belly. The pet easily stood on its legs towering over Anarungu.
"Look how big you've grown, little one."
Peacock licked chief's face with its rough tongue and bounded out of the hut. "Off to hunt," Anarungu chuckled.
Inside, Gnelsey was asleep, so Anarungu quietly stepped outside towards the nearby river. The warm air tousled his short, dreadlocked hair. Listening to the sound of the water, he gazed unwaveringly at the opposite bank.
There, amid a tangle of bushes and vines, something seemed to stir. In the faint moonlight, eyes briefly glimmered before disappearing, playing tricks in the shadows.
Anarungu stepped back.
"Anarungu!"
He turned towards the hut. Gnelsey stood at the entrance, gripping the doorframe with one hand, the other clutching her stomach. Water streamed down her legs, and her face twisted in pain.
"Child!" Gnelsey cried out.
===
The dense jungle buzzed with wildlife. The air was humid and filled with the scent of blooming flowers and earthy jungle floor.
Inside the hut, the atmosphere was tense. Gnelsey lay on a bed of mats and furs, her face twisted in pain. Sweat beaded on her forehead, shining in the dim light.
The village women moved around her. Anarungu stood at the entrance. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling helpless.
It was the first time he saw childbirth this close. It was awful.
The midwife, an elderly woman with wise eyes, knelt beside Gnelsey.
"Breathe, Gnelsey. You are strong like the roots of the great tree," the midwife said, her hands gently on Gnelsey's swollen belly. "The spirits of our ancestors are with you."
Gnelsey nodded weakly, her breath coming in short, labored gasps. She gripped the edge of the mat, her knuckles white. Another contraction hit, and she cried out, her voice piercing the air.
Anarungu took a step forward, but the midwife raised a hand to stop him. "She is doing well, Chief. The baby will come soon."
He felt helpless, his powerful form reduced to a bundle of nerves and fear. He could hear every anguished moan, every pained gasp, and it tore at his soul.
"I must do something. She's in pain, can't you see?"
Someone else's hand took hold of his shoulder from behind.
"You can do nothing, Chief," said the Elder. "You placed a child in her, and now you must watch and wait for what our ancestors decide. Whether they will allow your child to be born."
Another scream from Gnelsey broke the silence.
Outside the hut, villagers had gathered, their faces lit with anticipation. They whispered among themselves, eyes on the hut.
Gnelsey lay on a bed of furs, sweat pouring down her face as she gripped the hands of the women on either side of her. Her eyes, usually so full of life, were now filled with pain. Each contraction seemed to wrack her body with a force that left her breathless.
"I'm so sorry for making you go through this pain, Mama," he whispered to himself.
Anarungu moved closer, feeling the overwhelming urge to be near his mother. He reached out, and one of the women stepped aside to let him take her place. He took Gnelsey's hand in his, squeezing it gently.
"I'm here, Mama."
Gnelsey's eyes met his, and for a moment, the pain seemed to lessen
With a final, determined push, she cried out, and the tent was filled with the first cries of their newborn child.
Anarungu saw the baby, so big and crying loudly. He took out his ceremonial knife and carefully cut the umbilical cord where the midwives indicated.
It was the same knife Gnelsey had attacked him with the first time he tried to impregnate her. Now, he was cutting the umbilical cord of their first child with this knife.
"The spirits have spared us. They have spared you, Anarungu," said the Elder through the baby's cries. He closed his aged eyes and lightly tapped his staff on the ground.
The midwife carefully wrapped the child and handed it to Gnelsey, who cradled the baby close, a tired but joyful smile on her face.
"We did it," Anarungu whispered, kissing her forehead. "You did it, Mama."
Gnelsey nodded, her eyes shining with tears. "We did it together."
Anarungu let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
The midwife came out of the hut, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in furs. She held the baby high for all to see. "A son! The Chief has a son!"
Gnelsey lay exhausted but smiling, her eyes shining with tears, Anarungu knelt beside her, gently taking her hand.
"Thank you, Mama," he whispered. "You have given me the greatest gift. My son and sibling."
She smiled weakly, her eyes closing as she drifted into a well-deserved sleep. Anarungu looked down at his newborn son and brother.
====
Gnelsey was still sleeping. The hut was filled with a pleasant smell and had a soothing atmosphere after the childbirth. Anarungu carefully took the baby in his arms. The boy was so big. He slept, occasionally moving his mouth or his large hands.
"I can't believe you became a father, An," Tatar'Atu was the only one left in the hut. He didn't even ask Anarungu for permission, nor did he need to. ""Remember the days when we were sitting around the campfire, the four of us—you, me, Scar, and Peacock—and we would talk about how we would become grown hunters, with families and children. And now it's just you and me."
"You and me, right." Anarungu let out a deep, sad sigh. "You will also become a father soon. Tila would be a great mother." Anarungu gently ran his hand through the child's sticky hair. "The Tribal Hunt was the best thing that happened to me." It was the first time he saw childbirth this close. It was awful. So much blood...
He looked at Tat, who was thoughtfully gazing at the child. "I never asked you why?"
"Why what?" Tatar'Atu asked, puzzled.
"Why did you let me win the Hunt? When I passed out, you treated my wound; you prepared the bodies for me. You let me win, even though you could have taken the bodies for yourself. Why didn't you become the chief?"
Tat smiled bittersweetly. "It was your destiny." He glanced at the sleeping Gnelsey. "Besides, I didn't want to ruin our friendship."
Anarungu didn't know what to say, but Tat didn't expect him to answer. Pressing his hand to his heart, he bowed his head and left, leaving Anarungu alone on this special night of triumph.
Anarungu gently wrapped the boy in swaddling clothes and stepped outside to the river. The faint moonlight illuminated his child.
The sounds of the flowing water were music to his ears, and the moonlight was the warmest sunbeam. Everything in life was finally right. Strangely, a light tear rolled down his cheek. He couldn't control it. Why was he crying? Was he sad?
No, he was truly happy.
"I will take care of you, my chick."
The moonlight hid behind the clouds. It was dark. Anarungu cautiously approached the water. It was empty around him, or so he thought.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps. People emerged from the shadows. They were tall brutes with spears, long knives like spears, and blue garments. They appeared like shadows out of thin air. One of them ended up behind him and placed one of those knives against his neck.
"Scream or call for help, and you die," the brute said.
