People of the Fire (26 page)

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver exhaled relief. He'd lived.
Collecting himself, he winced as the sting of the wound began to throb. Heavy
Beaver got slowly to his feet, forcing his legs to stop trembling. His heart
battered at his chest as he lifted his shirt to peer underneath.

 
          
 
A long gash bled freely where the dart had
skipped across his ribs before fouling in the thick hide of his shirt.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver's fear melted, to be replaced
with a white-hot anger.

 
          
 
"You're evil, boy! You just tried to kill
one of the People. I can't save you now. The taint from wicked
Anit'ah
Power goes too deep." He pulled a hand back
and slapped the mewing boy. The cry he elicited warmed something deep inside
him. He hit the boy again and again, happy with the marks he raised.

 
          
 
“Hold him. You, Throws Stones. Get his other
arm. Too much of the
berdache
is in him. His soul is
too fouled to save. Today we cleanse the People ... all of the People."
And no one will doubt my Power!

 
          
 
"By the First Man," Two Smokes
shrieked. "You can't kill him! He's just a boy!"

 
          
 
"Straight Wood, if the
Anit'ah
filth speaks again, kill him." Heavy Beaver
smiled down at the
berdache
. "Don't worry, your
soul won't be far behind Little Dancer's. I meant what I said. Today I cleanse
the People, no matter how much blood I have to let."

 
          
 
Two Smokes clamped his eyes shut as Straight
Wood took a position over him.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver retrieved the hammer and swung it
to test the balance. People stared in horror, some covering their mouths,
others covering their eyes. No one spoke. No one stepped forward to stop him.
His authority went unchallenged.

 
          
 
Little Dancer wailed as the two boys stretched
his arms between them. Heady with victory, Heavy Beaver stared into the
insolent child's fear-glazed eyes and raised the hammer high overhead, picking
the spot on the boy's skull where he'd land the blow.

 
          
 
Hungry Bull's heart quaked. Not for years had
he experienced this feeling of dread. Anxiously he stared ahead over White
Calf's tottering figure where she led the way.

 
          
 
Smoke rose from the cottonwoods in a blue
haze, just as it would from a normal camp.

 
          
 
Then a flight of ravens rose from a huddled
shape on the terrace overlooking camp. Hungry Bull's gut twisted. Someone had
died. No wonder he felt like catastrophe hovered above him, ready to fall and
snuff his peace and
happi
Well, no matter, in a few
moments he'd be in Sage Root's arms, hearing the news.

           
 
A tingle of anticipation warmed him. Once he
was home, he'd be clear of all this. He could retreat to his lodge and let
White Calf and Heavy Beaver worry about the Spirit Power and visions.

 
          
 
The image of Sage Root's happy eyes danced in
his mind. She'd chide him about his misplaced worry. He could already imagine
the feel of her warm arms around him, feel her happy body pressed to his as she
laughed. With her long fingers, she'd pull the gleaming black hair from her
eyes to stare up at him with joy. How his soul tingled when she smiled at him
that way. All her love would reflect in the gentling of her eyes and the
expectation in her lips.

 
          
 
Perhaps this time he'd stay home for a while.
Let Black Crow and Three Toes and Travels Far do the hunting. Besides, young
Fire At Night and Throws Rocks were old enough to be going on their first hunt.

 
          
 
White Calf's legs wobbled under her as they
entered the trees. Would the old woman make it that far? She seemed on the
verge of collapse. An old one shouldn't push herself like that. No wonder he
felt nervous. If a Spirit Dreamer like White Calf keeled over and died on him,
the Wise One Above alone knew what the consequences would be.

 
          
 
"I don't like Spirit Power," he told
himself. "And I swear, I'll never get involved with it again after
this." But then, he'd sworn that before—and trouble had come looking for
him. What stories he'd have to tell Sage Root and Little Dancer.

 
          
 
A scream sounded from ahead. The anxiety in
Hungry Bull's heart
spasmed
. The sound couldn't be
anything but a man in pain. More cries tortured the air as they hurried
forward, pressing White Calf.

 
          
 
They burst into the camp clearing to see a
knot of people clustered before Hungry Bull's lodge.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver stood in the center, blood
streaming down his side. Fire At Night and Throws Rocks held a young boy by the
arms, stretching him between them, feet off the ground in what had to be a
painful position. Straight Wood stood over another figure—Two Smokes—angrily
kicking the
berdache
in the crippled leg every time
he tried to reach up for the boy who—

           
 
"Little Dancer!'' The cry caught in
Hungry Bull's throat as Heavy Beaver lifted a hammer high over his head.

 
          
 
Little Dancer squealed in fear as the shaman
approached. Where they braced themselves to steady the struggling boy, Fire At
Night and Throws Rocks looked eagerly at the lifted hammer.

 
          
 
"No!" The cry tore from Hungry
Bull's throat.

 
          
 
"Enough!" White Calf shouted,
catching Hungry Bull with one
taloned
hand as he
tried to charge past. People turned to stare. Heavy Beaver stopped, mallet held
high as his enraged face fixed on Hungry Bull and froze.

 
          
 
Hungry Bull struggled against the old woman's
eagle-strong grip. "Let me handle this," she hissed, eyes burning of
Power and locking with his.

 
          
 
Sage Root? Where was Sage Root?

 
          
 
"You promised on your soul, hunter. Don't
break that promise now. Three Toes, Black Crow, see that he doesn't do anything
stupid."

 
          
 
And at that, White Calf hurried forward,
panting with effort. Hungry Bull followed, fear charging his taut muscles.

 
          
 
"Turn the boy loose!" her ancient
voice cracked like a buffalo-hide whip. "Now!"

 
          
 
"White Calf!" Two Smokes cried.

 
          
 
"White Calf?" Heavy Beaver stood
uncertainly, the heavy hammer still held ready. "The witch

 
          
 
"Turn the boy loose At her words, Fire At
Night gulped and let the boy down. Throws Rocks held on for a moment more
before he let go. Little Dancer ran screaming, jumping into Hungry Bull's arms
to bawl uncontrollably. Hungry Bull hugged him tight, feeling his son's frantic
need. He whispered gently to reassure him.

 
          
 
Two Smokes crawled from under Straight Wood's
guard, dragging himself forward with his hands.

 
          
 
"Who are you?" Heavy Beaver
demanded. "What new form of pollution are you? Why are you here

 
          
 
She turned on her heel, staring from face to
face as the People watched, waiting, shocked by it all. "So." She
shook her head, trying to catch her breath. This is what the People have fallen
to?”

           
 
"Why are you here, WITCH?" Heavy
Beaver demanded, advancing toward her ? the hammer threatening.

 
          
 
"If you were a Dreamer, boy, you'd
know." She met his eyes, stopping him in his tracks. "But you're not,
are you? You haven't heard the child calling?" She jerked her head at
Little Dancer. "You didn't hear his Dreams? You didn't know what you had,
did you? Is that what this is all about? You're tormenting what you don't
understand?" To them all, she shouted, "Is that it? Have you lost so
much that you don't see Power anymore?"

 
          
 
A hushed intake of breath met her words.

 
          
 
White Calf spat her disgust.

 
          
 
"Get out!" Heavy Beaver cried,
advancing again. "I declare you a pollution! Get your filth out of
here!"

 
          
 
White Calf hunched, shaking her pack from her
back, lifting her hands wide. "Or what? You'll Curse me?"

 
          
 
"I Curse you now, witch! By the fourth
day your body will be-"

 
          
 
"Oh, shut up! You wouldn't know a Curse
if it lifted its head from the grass and bit you on the ass. Where's this boy's
mother?"

 
          
 
People had begun to back away. Now they left
at a run, leaving a space open where a young woman lay sprawled on the ground
before a dingy-looking lodge.

 
          
 
"Oh . . . no . . ." Hungry Bull
stared, hugging the weeping Little Dancer to his chest. He knew. All of a
sudden it came clear, his soul crying and screaming within him.

 
          
 
The rest seemed to blur as he charged forward,
lifting her into his arms, tears blurring the reality of her pale flesh, the
red-stained earth under her gaping wrists.

 
          
 
He lifted his face to the sun, blinking at the
rush of pain.

 
          
 
"Why? How? WHO DID THIS?"

 
          
 
White Calf barely shifted as Hungry Bull
rushed past. To the two hunters, she added softly, "I think he needs your
help now."

 
          
 
No one moved as Black Crow and Three Toes
hurried after.

 
          
 
"I Curse you!" Heavy Beaver
repeated. "By the sun above, I declare you unclean and evil."

           
 
“You declare nothing." She cocked her
head. "So you killed Sage Root?"

 
          
 
"He drove her to it." Two Smokes
cried, voice cracking. “Just like he did Dancing Doe. He abused the Wolf
Bundle-threw it into the dirt and chased it away. It's gone."

 
          
 
White Calf gasped and placed a knotted fist to
her breast. “0 Blessed Wise One Above." She shook her head, mouth falling
open as she stared into Heavy Beaver's triumphant eyes. “Do you know what
you've done?"

 
          
 
"I've cleansed the People!"

 
          
 
“You ignorant, stupid fool!" She darted a
hard finger at him. "That Wolf Bundle . . . that sacred bundle is the
legacy of the First Man!"

 
          
 
Horrified, more and more people began to melt away.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver stood uncertainly, mouth bobbing
open and closed as a frown lined his head.

 
          
 
“Get me away from here, White Calf," Two
Smokes pleaded from where he lay on the ground. ''They're tainted, all of them.
You brought me here. Take me away. I can't do anything for them anymore."