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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

People of the Longhouse (33 page)

BOOK: People of the Longhouse
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T
hree hands of time later, they crouched around a tiny fire in the dark depths of a narrow valley that cleft the long mountainous ridge. Thick plums and sumacs surrounded their camp on the northern slope and kept them hidden from prying eyes. High above, the campfires of the dead wavered through a smoky haze.
Sindak sipped his spruce needle tea and scanned the dense branches of the staghorn sumacs. Scrub trees that grew four or five times the height of a man had dark smooth bark that reflected the multiple shadows cast by the flames. Beyond the sumacs, a thicket of thorny plums spread fifty paces in every direction. The sweet tang of rotting fruit filled the air. Most of the sharp-toothed leaves had, thankfully, been blown into the branches, leaving their small clearing almost bare.
Gonda kept feeding twigs to the blaze to keep the children and the tea warm. Despite their desperate situation, the muscles of his round face had relaxed. It made him look ten summers younger.
Sindak glanced at Koracoo. She stood five paces to the east, watching the game trail they’d followed to get here, while Towa watched the trail as it left the clearing and headed west.
None of them seemed inclined to talk, least of all, Towa. He’d been
brooding over something, but they hadn’t had a chance to discuss it yet.
Hehaka, Baji, Odion, and Tutelo huddled together on the opposite side of the fire from Sindak. From their expressions, Sindak suspected three of them would be standing shoulder to shoulder for the rest of their lives. All of them except Hehaka. The other children acted as if they had to watch what they said around him.
That intrigued Sindak.
He could tell that Baji was from the Flint People, and even if he hadn’t known, he would have guessed Tutelo and Odion were Standing Stone—but he hadn’t been able to place Hehaka’s People. And the boy was … odd. His starved face resembled a trapped bat’s, all ears and flat nose, with small dark eyes. The boy kept lifting his chin to sniff the air, as if scenting them to identify whether they were predator or prey.
Odion shifted, as though he’d come to a decision, and called, “Father?”
Gonda looked up. “What is it, my son?”
“Tomorrow. We have to go to fire cherry camp.”
Gonda tossed another twig on the flames. “I don’t know where that is, Odion.”
“It’s less than a day’s walk away.” Odion blinked and stared up at the night sky. After five or six heartbeats, he wet his lips, then pointed slightly southwest. “It’s there … I think. I’ll find it.”
Gonda exchanged a curious glance with Koracoo, who had turned to listen to the conversation. Gonda said, “I’m not sure it’s safe to head west, Odion. What’s at this fire cherry camp?”
Odion stiffened his spine as though to bolster his courage. “Wrass is going to meet us there. He told me. He’ll be there waiting for us at dawn. He—”
“Odion?” Koracoo called, then hesitated. She turned and walked back into the clearing. Her red cape looked orange in the firelight. She knelt beside her son, and he looked at her with his whole heart in his eyes.
“Yes, Mother?”
Koracoo petted his dark hair. “Odion, forgive me. I was going to tell you tomorrow, after you’d eaten and slept, but … Wrass won’t be there. He was captured by Gannajero. I watched—”
“No!”
The high-pitched scream rang through the forest.
Sindak instinctively clutched his war club.
Odion leaped to his feet and stared at Koracoo as though she were a complete stranger; then he charged up the dark eastern trail like a man running for his life.
“Odion?” Gonda lunged to his feet and chased after him, calling, “Odion? Odion, no! We’ll find him, but not tonight!”
Chaos erupted among the children. Baji and Tutelo stood up and started talking at once. Hehaka bent forward and put his hands over his ears, as though he couldn’t bear to hear any of this.
When Gonda caught up with Odion, he grabbed the back of his shirt and shouted, “Odion, stop! We’ll find Wrass. Just not tonight. Not tonight!”
Odion burst into tears and fought against Gonda’s iron grip. “Let me go, Father! I have to find him
now.
You don’t know. Y-You don’t know what they’ll d-do to him! I know. Ask Tutelo. Ask Baji and Hehaka!”
Gonda dropped to his knees and forcibly pulled Odion into his arms. Odion slammed his fists into his father’s face and shoulders. “Let me go! Father, I have to find him!”
Gonda lifted his son off the ground and carried him back toward the fire.
Odion writhed and kicked, shouting, “Wrass needs me! Let me go!”
“Stop it. Odion, stop!”
Three paces from the fire, Gonda set Odion on the ground, grabbed his son’s frantic fists, and held them against his chest. “Listen to me. We can’t just charge into a camp filled with hundreds of warriors. None of us, including Wrass, will live through it. We need to think about it, to plan. You’re a warrior now. Think! We’ll go after Wrass in the morning.”
Odion wailed, “You’re lying! You’re going to take us far away!”
“I am not lying! Tell me when I’ve ever lied to you?”
Odion’s thin body was trembling. He swallowed hard and whispered, “ … Never.”
Gonda ripped open his cape and tucked his hand into his shirt over his heart. “I give you my oath as a Standing Stone warrior that I will never,
never
abandon another Standing Stone warrior being held in an enemy camp. I will find him and bring him home, even at the cost of my own life.”
Sindak’s gaze shifted to Koracoo. Her eyes had narrowed at Gonda’s words, as though she disagreed.
Sobs shook Odion. In a choking voice, he said, “Oh, Father. Wrass saved me. If they find out what he d-did, they’ll kill him!”
Gonda gripped his son by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length. He solemnly stared into Odion’s brimming eyes. “Then his name will be counted among the bravest warriors of our People, and I will honor him for the rest of my life. But I am not going to risk all of our lives foolishly. Do you think I should?”
Odion squeezed his eyes closed for several agonizing moments, then said, “No.”
Gonda hugged the boy tightly. “We just need time, Odion. Time to consider how to—”
“Father, I—I understand, and I won’t endanger anyone else, but I’m going after Wrass and the other children at first light.”
Gonda shoved back to look into Odion’s brimming eyes. “Alone?”
“Yes.”
The bold confident tone of the boy’s voice filled Sindak with awe. He had no idea what the child had been through, but it could not have been pleasant, and yet Odion was willing to charge back into the mouth of the beast to rescue his friend.
Gonda’s eyes narrowed with pride. He softly said, “Sometime while I was away, you became a man, my son.”
Baji stood up. “You’re not going alone, Odion. I’m going with you.”
“Me, too.” Tutelo shot up beside Baji and clenched her jaw as though daring anyone to tell her she couldn’t go.
Hehaka just hung his head and stared at the ground.
Gonda turned to Koracoo. “What do you say, War Chief?”
Koracoo’s gaze lingered on the determined young faces around the fire. “There are many things we must discuss first. Both of you, come and sit down.”
Gonda held Odion’s hand and led him back to crouch before the flames. Odion waited with wide eyes for his mother’s next words.
Koracoo gently smoothed her hand over CorpseEye and said, “Sindak? Towa? I was going to wait to make plans until tomorrow when we were rested, but apparently we need to do it tonight. You must have many questions for the children. Why don’t you start?”
Towa marched forward, as though he’d been eager for this moment. “Thank you, War Chief.”
Towa knelt beside Sindak, and his long black braid fell over his right shoulder. He studied the children one by one and said, “We’re looking for a girl who was captured in a raid fifteen days ago. Was
there another little girl among you? She has seen ten summers, and has long black hair that hangs to her waist.” The children frowned at each other and shook their heads. Towa continued, “Her front teeth stick out like a squir—”
“Zateri!” Tutelo cried, and Odion and Baji nodded.
“Yes, Zateri.” The elation in his voice was obvious. “So she was with you?”
“Yes,” Baji said. “But her hair is not long. It’s cut short in mourning.” She drew a line across her own hair to show how short, just below her chin.
Sindak leaned forward. “Is she all right?”
“She was alive the last time we saw her.”
Towa bowed his head and exhaled in relief. He put a hand over the sacred pendant beneath his cape. “Then we must continue on, War Chief, though we will understand if you want to take these children to safety first.”
Odion whirled to stare at Koracoo. “I’m going with them, Mother.”
Koracoo stood for several moments, staring out into the darkness, before she heaved a sigh and said, “It’s too dangerous to take the children with us. Dangerous for them as well as for us. They’ll distract us and slow us down. I am inclined to send them back—”
“No, Mother!” Odion cried.
“I agree,” Towa interrupted. “Someone must get these children to safety, while the rest of us continue on the trail.”
“Towa’s right,” Sindak said. “If we aren’t on Gannajero’s trail at dawn, we may lose it forever. I suggest that you, War Chief, and Gonda take the children home, while Towa and I go after Zateri.”
Tears silently ran down Odion’s cheeks. “Zateri isn’t the only one. You have to free
all
of the children.
All of them!
How are you going to do that? You need us. We know Gannajero’s meeting places, and how she hides her trails. We know how she thinks, and what her men look like. You don’t know any of these things!”
Sindak’s brows lowered. The boy was right. Having that kind of knowledge might make the difference between life and death. “If you can describe her men to us, we—”
“No.” Odion shook his head. “You have to take me with you.”
“You have to take
us
with you,” Baji said.
Sindak frowned. That little girl had a gaze that could lance right through a man’s vitals. She was a born clan matron or warrior. He’d hate to have to stand before her in a council meeting ten summers
from now. On the other hand, looking into those eyes across a bow wasn’t going to be a pretty sight either.
“My inclination,” Koracoo said, “is to send the children to Atotarho Village with Sindak, while we continue searching for the other children.”
Shocked, Sindak objected, “But you need me the most, War Chief. I’m the best tracker, and I—”
Gonda said, “If any of us has to go, it’s you. You bring out the worst in people.”
“I bring out the worst in
you.
Let’s look at facts: I’m not the one who’s spent the past half-moon staring at his feet with his war club dragging the ground. And despite your woeful conduct, I’ve been nice!”
“That’s what you call being nice? You obviously don’t grasp the problem.”
Sindak scowled and said, “War Chief, Gonda is the expendable member of this party. He should take the children to the closest Standing Stone village, and remain there until we come for him.”
All of the children had started to whimper and sniffle. Koracoo glanced around the fire. “Towa? You’ve been quiet.”
Towa looked up from where he’d been glaring at his hands. “This entire discussion is irrelevant to me.”
Koracoo’s brows arched. “Why?”
“Well, you’re not going to like this, Koracoo, but our chief ordered us to obey all of your orders—except one.”
Koracoo’s chin lifted. “Which one?”
“He said that if you ever ordered us to stop searching for his daughter, we were to go on without you.” Towa watched her hands tighten around CorpseEye and added, “I’m sorry, but neither Sindak nor I have the luxury of retreating with the children. We must find our chief’s daughter and bring her home.”
BOOK: People of the Longhouse
8.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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