spoke slowly, letting each word settle upon the throng of Great Sachems.
“It is our only chance. The villages, as you know, are no protection. The west is not a choice, as our enemies will be striking with great power from that direction. Our nearest hope for help lies to the east. We must seek help from others beyond our lands, and we must move our people as far from harm as we can. We cannot remain here.”
When Deganawida sat down again, it was with the heaviest of hearts. He realized what he was asking of all of them. An unsettling silence permeated the area, a foreboding and fearful atmosphere taking hold, as the sachems grasped exactly what he was proposing. There was an even longer silence before the next sachem rose to make the first comments following Deganawida’s response.
“If we have consensus, do we bring the tribes together and then go east? Or does each tribe move on its own?” Wadondaherha queried.
He was a Great Sachem of the Gayogohon, the northernmost tribe in the Five Realms. Their lands bordered the remnants of the war-like tribal groups that had long ago held power over most of the eastern forests. It was little secret that these brutal tribes were now aligning with the enemy. The pressure upon the Gayogohon, in particular, was very considerable, as they were likely to find themselves beset from two directions at once.
“We have held our enemies back for many long years,” Wadondaherha continued. He then added, before taking his seat again. “They watch us closely, and will surely seek to fall upon us as we leave our lands. It is better if we were to make haste to join our numbers with the other tribes, than to try to make the journey by ourselves, where a stalking enemy can better find a moment to strike.”
Deganawida nodded as he rose up, taking his place in the center yet again.
“Together is the only chance we will have,” Deganawida stated firmly. “There will be no villages left standing soon. No one tribe among us can withstand the attack that is coming. We must bring together our strength.”
“And the war sachems?” a shorter, stocky sachem of the Onyota, named Ronyadashayouh, asked Deganawida. “And the Bregas? The Bregas were the greatest of gifts from this land to our people.”
“Ayenwatha, a war sachem of the Onan, of the Firaken Clan, has sent messengers out with the ceremonial leaf to all the tribes. We will soon know who will join him,” Deganawida said, looking to the relatively youthful Great Sachem.
Like Ayenwatha, Ronyadashayouh was a skilled sky rider, and it was no surprise that his concerns included the noble race of the Brega. The Bregas were precious to all of the tribes, and Deganawida knew that any undertaking would have to involve an attempt to preserve the winged creatures.
“The Bregas should be brought along with us. Those of the west do not know the Bregas or their ways. We must try to save them, just as we try to save our people,” Deganawida answered.
“And what of the Wendaton? You have heard Wadondaherha of the Gayogohon. The Wendaton ever wait on the border of the Gayogohon. They have long hungered for all of our lands. And we have warred with all of the Anishin tribes, but it is also the Gayogohon that are next to lands where other Anishin tribes yet dwell. You know the scouts have said that several from Anishin tribes move among the enemy,” Ronyadashayouh stated firmly. “The Gayogohon have suffered much to hold the Wendaton and others at bay. They will take our lands if we leave.”
“They may for a time, yes,” Deganawida responded bluntly, for he could not soften the words. “You know that they serve our enemy, and our enemy may reward them with our lands.”
“Curses on them. They are no different than a tribe of witches,” Ronyadashayouh responded, all but spitting the words out after he sprang up and took his own belt. His expression darkened, tension and frustration chiseled deeply into his face. “I do not dispute
“It is our only chance. The villages, as you know, are no protection. The west is not a choice, as our enemies will be striking with great power from that direction. Our nearest hope for help lies to the east. We must seek help from others beyond our lands, and we must move our people as far from harm as we can. We cannot remain here.”
When Deganawida sat down again, it was with the heaviest of hearts. He realized what he was asking of all of them. An unsettling silence permeated the area, a foreboding and fearful atmosphere taking hold, as the sachems grasped exactly what he was proposing. There was an even longer silence before the next sachem rose to make the first comments following Deganawida’s response.
“If we have consensus, do we bring the tribes together and then go east? Or does each tribe move on its own?” Wadondaherha queried.
He was a Great Sachem of the Gayogohon, the northernmost tribe in the Five Realms. Their lands bordered the remnants of the war-like tribal groups that had long ago held power over most of the eastern forests. It was little secret that these brutal tribes were now aligning with the enemy. The pressure upon the Gayogohon, in particular, was very considerable, as they were likely to find themselves beset from two directions at once.
“We have held our enemies back for many long years,” Wadondaherha continued. He then added, before taking his seat again. “They watch us closely, and will surely seek to fall upon us as we leave our lands. It is better if we were to make haste to join our numbers with the other tribes, than to try to make the journey by ourselves, where a stalking enemy can better find a moment to strike.”
Deganawida nodded as he rose up, taking his place in the center yet again.
“Together is the only chance we will have,” Deganawida stated firmly. “There will be no villages left standing soon. No one tribe among us can withstand the attack that is coming. We must bring together our strength.”
“And the war sachems?” a shorter, stocky sachem of the Onyota, named Ronyadashayouh, asked Deganawida. “And the Bregas? The Bregas were the greatest of gifts from this land to our people.”
“Ayenwatha, a war sachem of the Onan, of the Firaken Clan, has sent messengers out with the ceremonial leaf to all the tribes. We will soon know who will join him,” Deganawida said, looking to the relatively youthful Great Sachem.
Like Ayenwatha, Ronyadashayouh was a skilled sky rider, and it was no surprise that his concerns included the noble race of the Brega. The Bregas were precious to all of the tribes, and Deganawida knew that any undertaking would have to involve an attempt to preserve the winged creatures.
“The Bregas should be brought along with us. Those of the west do not know the Bregas or their ways. We must try to save them, just as we try to save our people,” Deganawida answered.
“And what of the Wendaton? You have heard Wadondaherha of the Gayogohon. The Wendaton ever wait on the border of the Gayogohon. They have long hungered for all of our lands. And we have warred with all of the Anishin tribes, but it is also the Gayogohon that are next to lands where other Anishin tribes yet dwell. You know the scouts have said that several from Anishin tribes move among the enemy,” Ronyadashayouh stated firmly. “The Gayogohon have suffered much to hold the Wendaton and others at bay. They will take our lands if we leave.”
“They may for a time, yes,” Deganawida responded bluntly, for he could not soften the words. “You know that they serve our enemy, and our enemy may reward them with our lands.”
“Curses on them. They are no different than a tribe of witches,” Ronyadashayouh responded, all but spitting the words out after he sprang up and took his own belt. His expression darkened, tension and frustration chiseled deeply into his face. “I do not dispute
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