People of the Earth (23 page)

 
          
 
It could work. The thought captured him, made
stronger by the exhaustion that cloaked his being. Just think of Brave Man's
expression when he heard that Wind Runner offered marriage to White Ash! Brave
Man.
He could be a problem in the meantime.

 
          
 
"You have another thing to think about,
you know," he said. - She gave him a wary glance.

 
          
 
"Brave Man is going to be working on Sage
Ghost. Dropping hints, seeking to gain favor. He's going to want to marry
you."

 
          
 
"I'll say no. Sage Ghost, even if his
heart is broken, won't make me marry a man I don't want."

 
          
 
Wind Runner frowned at the horizon.
"You're going to have to marry someday. The White Clay are running out of
choices for you."

 
          
 
She laughed, flashing a smile at him.
"There's only one man among the White Clay I'd want to marry."

 
          
 
Lowering his voice, he told her, "We've
had that discussion before. You're my uncle's daughter. Among the White
Clay-"

 
          
 
"—it's incest, I know. But I'm not your
sister, no matter that your people call first cousins that."

 
          
 
He squinted at the horizon. Should I tell her?
Do I want to commit myself yet? No. Wait. Like the good hunter, don't hurry.

 
          
 
He shrugged absently. "It is the way of
my people. I can't turn my back on my clan, or on the beliefs of my father and
my father's father. A man without his people is nothing, no more than a
beast."

 
          
 
She didn't respond.

 
          
 
"I'm sorry. If things were different, if
Sage Ghost hadn't raised you as his . . . had not called you his daughter in
council, you would already be my wife."

           
 
"And why haven't you married? Dancing
Rose would crawl into your robes if you so much as blinked at her.”

 
          
 
"Because," he answered mildly.

 
          
 
"Because why?"

 
          
 
"Just because." He took a breath,
lowered his voice. "You know why."

 
          
 
She looked at him with eyes that wounded his
soul. "And if Brave Man abducts me again?"

 
          
 
"Then I'll track him down and take you
back. And if he resists, I'll drive a dart through him."

 
          
 
She stiffened. Among the Earth People, no
greater horror—not even the horror of incest—existed than that of murder. More
than once she'd seen the Sun People turn violently on each other. War lived in
their souls. Had it crept into hers?

 
          
 
Her smile went bittersweet. "I don't know
who I am anymore, Wind Runner. If you killed Brave Man for raping me, I'd . . .
well, I don't know. Maybe I finally understand what you mean about your people.
It's something we grow up with. Me, I can understand your loathing of incest
... by understanding my feeling about how horrible murder is among the Earth
People."

 
          
 
"And who else is there for you to
marry?" Only Brave
Man.

 
          
 
"What happened to Black Eagle and Gray
Thunder's bands?" she asked.

 
          
 
"I haven't heard any news of them, have
you? It's been close to three years since we split from Black Eagle's camp. He
thought he could hold the land higher up on the Fat Beaver River. I always
thought he'd show up again. Now, well, I'm not so sure."

 
          
 
"I won't have Brave Man. I'd rather
couple with a white bear than with him."

 
          
 
A thrill shot up his spine. Perhaps there was
a way. If Brave Man tried to abduct White Ash again, he'd have to kill his old
friend. So much had changed between himself and Brave Man. And if he ran off to
the Black Point and married White Ash, Brave Man would come hunting him—to pay
back the insult to the White Clay and take White Ash away from him.

 
          
 
Bad Belly stooped and got into the strap that
held his pack on. He stood, taking the weight. Around him, the predawn shadows
softened the familiar outlines of Round Rock camp. The fresh morning air nipped
at him, and the chill from the ground leeched into his thick moccasins. He
looked around at the camp, and a sudden fullness gripped his breast.

 
          
 
Bitterbrush gave him one last check.
"You've got your extra fire sticks?"

 
          
 
"In the pack."

 
          
 
She looked him up and down. "Well, be
careful. If it looks like a spring storm, hole up. Don't take any
chances."

 
          
 
"I won't."

 
          
 
"Bad Belly," she pleaded one last
time, tilting her head in the authoritative way Grandmother used, "you're
being an idiot. . . just like usual. Give up this quest. You're going out to
get yourself in trouble. Why are you doing this to me? Haven't I always taken
care of you? Do you think this Trader is going to take care of you? What about
your responsibility to—"

 
          
 
"Bitterbrush. Hush."

 
          
 
"You're not up to this, Bad Belly, and
you know it. Why don't you show some sense for the first time in your life, and
act like a man for once? You're about to make the worst—"

 
          
 
"Bitterbrush!"

 
          
 
"—mistake you'll ever make. And you've
made a lot of them. I just won't have this—"

 
          
 
"Daughter?" Cattail said, placing a
hand on her shoulder. "Let your brother do as he wishes."

 
          
 
Bad Belly shot a look of gratitude at his
father. Bitterbrush bit her lip and nodded reluctantly, resentment in her eyes.

 
          
 
Left Hand secured the last of his dogs' packs
and straightened, pride in his eyes as he looked over his animals. Then he
ducked into his tumpline, stood, and checked the balance of his load.

 
          
 
Bad Belly turned to leave, not surprised to
notice that only his father and sister had come to wish him off.
Limbercone
,
Phloxseed
, and Pretty
Woman probably sat in Larkspur's lodge plotting with the old woman. Perhaps
they were discussing what an insult it was to the camp that Bad Belly would run
off with a Trader.

 
          
 
Bad Belly's stomach ached. It hadn't been as
difficult as he'd thought. Larkspur hadn't thrown a ring-tailed fit. A Trader
had Power. People didn't offend Traders—as Larkspur well knew. To do so would
give Round Rock a bad reputation, causing other Traders to bypass the camp in
the future.

 
          
 
She wouldn’t let me stay with my dying
friend—not even when Warm Fire asked me to. He never spoke again after I left.
Now that he balanced on the threshold of freedom, a new emotion sparked in his
gut: anger.

 
          
 
The look the old woman had given him would
remain engraved in his memory. She'd grunted a harsh laugh and muttered,
"Then go! Run off with the Trader! Turn your back on your family and
clan." And she'd motioned him out with the same gesture she'd use to shoo
a bothersome fly.

 
          
 
Cattail had tried to smile, losing it somehow
and only looking foolish. He said, "You watch yourself when you get to the
mountains. One wrong step up there and you'll have a leg just like your arm."

 
          
 
"I'll be careful, Father."

 
          
 
Cattail thought for a moment. "Keep to
the ridges. The mud's not so bad there. It'll be impossible down in the
drainages. You'll see. You walk in that sticky, gooey mud for a couple of days
and you'll learn just how tired you can be.
Onceyou
hit the sand hills, the travel will be easier."

 
          
 
"I expect Left Hand knows the way."

 
          
 
Cattail smiled wistfully. "I know it's
been hard for you here. You're a good man, my son. Just a little different,
that's all." He lowered his voice, stepping close. "I don't blame you
a bit. In fact, you make me proud. Good-bye. Good luck."

 
          
 
"Tell Grandmother . . . nothing.
Nevermind
."

 
          
 
"She's upset by this. We all are,"
Bitterbrush said severely as she stepped close. Then, in a low voice, she
added, "But maybe I don't blame you, either."

           
 
Bad Belly smiled farewell, wondering at the
look she gave him.
Limbercone
,
Phloxseed
,
and Pretty Woman hadn't even told him good-bye. They'd just stared at him,
condemnation in their eyes. Why did they have do that? // 's guilt. They don't
know what to do with me. So, if I go out and run afoul of a silver bear, or a
Wolf People war party, they'll think it's their fault. The thought didn't
comfort him.

 
          
 
Morning looked to be breaking. This day would
be clear and sunny—and no doubt the wind would whistle down from the
Monster
Mountains
in a roaring gale. Walking into the wind
wore a person out.

 
          
 
Left Hand lifted an eyebrow and gestured
toward the trail.

 
          
 
Bad Belly took a deep breath, drawing his
lungs full of Round Rock camp's air. He looked around one last time to settle
the scene in his memory. He'd been born right over there in
Limbercone's
lodge. Here he'd lived as a boy, running and laughing, almost dying from
snakebite. Sitting in the shade, he'd enjoyed hours of talk with Warm Fire. His
sweat and effort had gone into the building of Bitterbrush's earthen lodge.
Part of his soul would linger here. A strange twist of melancholy mixed with
the excitement he felt for the journey ahead.

 
          
 
A man loses something of himself when he
leaves his home. It's a small death that marks a turning in his life.