3.51. Perspective: Mulallamu (Patreon)

Author's note: This is the first of three short alternate-POV slices.

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Mumu put down her spoon to stare at her soon-to-be spouses, the bowl of elk stew temporarily forgotten. She saw them clearly enough—their longhouse had two candle stones to light the snow-bound days—but had she heard their proposition correctly?

“You want me to give up being lodge master and have Tegen take over?”

Dena, uncharacteristically, looked away, but Haol had that stubborn look he got after he’d carefully decided a particular course was the correct one. Others might disregard him as only having room in his head for archery, but Mumu knew he had a keen mind. Both of her spouses to be did; it was what attracted her to them and their family.

The others around them went quiet, as Dena and Haol broached this important topic of discussion. For a time, the only sounds came from a cousin’s fussing baby and a pair of lolling oxen at the far end of the longhouse.

“You are our sharpest spear,” Haol said, “and we can’t have you stuck at the lodge.”

“You are Scout Born,” Dena added. “You belong in the woods hunting—not doing scribbling in books, attending meetings, or training apprentices.”

“It is where you are happiest,” Haol said. “The place where your path leads you.”

“My path is what I make of it. Inleio entrusted me—”

Dena reached out to hold her hand. “Our Mumu, your mouth speaks twice, the words traveling in two directions. Is it your path you walk or the one Inleio set before you?”

These people were precious to Mumu. Had she done so poorly in the short time she’d been lodge master that they lost confidence in her leadership? Inleio’s death had struck her hard—she’d admitted it—but she’d woken from the death craze and remembered to moderate her actions like a proper hunter should.

And she’d done well afterward, putting an end to Borba’s misery and dealing with his consequences. This most recent Long Dark had been the most manageable in years. It was almost like having element-touched back in the lodge. So why would they have her step aside?

“We don’t doubt you.” Frustration leaked into Haol’s voice. He tended to be spare with his words, but not today apparently. “Just let Tegen deal with the messes our hunters make, the debt—”

“You don’t think I can handle the weight of the responsibility?”

Haol slapped the table. “I didn’t say that.”

“We would never say that,” Dena said.

“Then what is it? Am I so poorly suited to lead our lodge?”

“You are not the burden,” Haol said. “The lodge is the burden; it would weigh you down and blunt your sharpness.”

Mumu couldn’t deny it. The debt incurred by the lodge was a huge weight upon her mind and heart. If not for Eight and his relationships to Honored Yuki and Honored Ikfael, she... she didn’t know what she would’ve done. But then neither would Tegen, Kesa, or even Inleio if he’d been alive at the time. The problem would’ve been insurmountable for a village like theirs.

Except that they had surmounted it thanks to Eight’s solution, and it was Mumu who’d led them through it. So, once again, she asked, “Why? Why is it wrong to widen my path to accommodate others? The lodge is my family too; I will do what I must to protect it.”

“My love,” Dena said. “That’s exactly what worries us.”

Haol reached over to hold her other hand. “Mmm. Yes, that’s it.”

“We know you, Mulallamu Scout Born. You’ll tangle your path and twist it into knots to clear the way for others.”

Haol nodded. “Our friend Tegen is Patient, and he is good at teaching others. With Kesa gone, his spear is second only to you now, his bow third in the lodge, and most importantly, he can use mana magic. Any other village, any other town, would celebrate him for days as their lodge master.”

“But not me?” Mumu said, her anger rising.

“Of course, you.” Haol bit back. “You’re a blessing to anywhere you are, but your light will shine brighter without... without—”

“Every hunter hanging from your neck,” Dena said, finishing for him.

Mumu snorted at the image conjured by her words. They sounded like something their Little Pot of Questions would say.

“Does that include our Haol?” Mumu asked.

“Of course,” Deana replied. “I won’t deny there are days when I want you all to myself.”

Which... which elicited the smile Dena was no doubt trying for. Haol didn’t even make a fuss at the dig. He knew his wife well enough to understand what she was after.

Mumu was loved by these people. The past few weeks had worn away at her confidence, and she’d fought her way back toward it, but that was no reason to doubt her soon-to-be spouses.

Thinking of Little Eight, she wondered what he would make of this dilemma. He’d probably search for one of his “win-win” solutions, like Mumu staying as lodge master but having Tegen do all the work...

Mumu sat up.

Only the big city lodges typically assigned deputies or assistants to their masters, but there was nothing to stop Voorhei from adopting the practice. And it would play to both Mumu and Tegen’s strengths, matching her strategies and leadership with his patience and teaching ability.

This wasn’t a bad idea—not at all. She should thank Eight for it when he comes back from the Glen, although perhaps without any context at first. The confusion on his face would be delightful to see.

“Listen to this, then,” Mumu said, and the loves of her life inclined their heads, ready to hear her words.