“Having said that to you, I now must confess something to you, my son.” Father knelt down on his one knee as he had in the town square to accept his headdress. We were eye-to-eye.
“I never want to lie to you, or participate in what appears to be a falsehood, so I admit this in truth to you. Tomorrow night, I will lead a war party out of this village in search of the young girls taken from us. This is what is expected of me—that I should find them. But if we do not find them, I will be forced to take girls from another village—a village that we suspect of having abducted our girls—to replace what has been taken from us. This will send a signal to other marauders that we are not to be taken lightly. Hit us and we will hit you back!”
Father knew and I knew that only days earlier, he had said to me that our village did not take young girls from other tribes. But now that he was Chief, he might actually lead such a raid. He was turning his own statement into a falsehood.
Neither of us spoke; I did not know what to say. “I ask you not to judge me, my son, but rather to know that I have such deep respect for you that I would tell you this,” he said, quietly.
There was more silence between us. “May the Great Spirit be with you and be your guide,” I said, not knowing where the words came from.
Father looked me in the eyes and opened his wide arms. I went to him and embraced him and he embraced me in return. His chest heaved and he sighed loudly and his face was warm. He whispered, “I love you, and always will, no matter what may come."
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