People of the Mist (15 page)

 
          
“Yes—I-I
mean, no. I… I don’t know. I give you my pledge that he didn’t. Isn’t that
enough? Shell Comb is trying to blame Winged Blackbird, and I’ve heard—”

 
          
“Who?
Winged Blackbird?” “War Chief for Corn Hunter, Weroance of
White
Stake
Village
. His warriors were there the morning Red
Knot was killed. He—”

 
          
“How
do you know?”

 
          
“After
High Fox discovered Red Knot’s body, he paddled around to a wooded section of
bank, hid his canoe, and sneaked up to the village. He hid until afternoon,
Elder, listening to the things people said.”

 
          
Panther
quirked a brow. Sun Conch did not seem to realize how this act undermined her
friend’s story. He said, “What happened to Net Sinker? I thought he was War
Chief for
White
Stake
Village
.” “He was killed two years ago by Nine
Killer.” Sun Conch frowned. “How long have you been out here?”

 
          
“Since
this little island was water. You’ll have to tell me the things I need to know.
Why were Corn Hunter’s warriors at Flat Pearl?” “The Mamanatowick wanted the
marriage stopped. He’s no fool. Copper Thunder allying with the Independent
villages is a threat to him. Water Snake’s wanted us for years. And now, with
Copper Thunder’s influence growing…” She paused, her mouth open, as if she
feared to say more. “Elder, if they don’t blame this on High Fox, the whole
country is going to explode like a sealed boiling pot. Copper Thunder, the
Water Snake, and the Independent villages will tear each other apart.”

 
          
“So,
let them.”

 
          
“Let
them?” she blurted. Disbelief lined her young face. “Elder, do you know what
you’re saying? Tens of tens of people will die! Old people. Little children
who’ve done nothing wrong!”

 
          
Panther’s
narrow-eyed glare burned through her outrage, and she shriveled like a
punctured bladder.

 
          
“Girl,
for the most part, people are as mindless as a school of mullet. They blunder
through life with no direction, charging this way and that, muddying up the
water while the crafty heron of death plucks them up one by one. I left people,
and their petty squabbles, behind me a long time ago.”

 
          
Sun
Conch’s eyes filled with tears. “But, Elder—”

 
          
“Don’t
look at me that way, girl,” Panther ordered. “Just why are you so anxious to
save this High Fox? Because you love him? Because you think now that Red Knot
is out of the way that he will marry you and ask you to run away with him?” Her
jaw trembled. “I asked him, Elder. No, I—I begged him, to run away with me. He
wouldn’t. He’s too honorable.”

 
          
The
tormented expression on her face touched a part of Panther’s soul that he
thought long dead and buried. “Answer my question: Why are you so anxious to
save High Fox?”

 
          
Sun
Conch reached out imploringly. “Because he didn’t do it!”

 
          
“You
have faith that he didn’t do it.”

 
          
Sun
Conch’s extended hands clenched to fists. “No, Elder! Some things a person
knows, down deep in the soul. This is one.” She stared angrily across the fire
at Panther. “He didn’t kill Red Knot, Elder. I know he didn’t.” Her brow
pinched, and she said, “What is happening is wrong—and I can’t do anything
about it by myself.”

 
          
Panther
gazed thoughtfully at the girl. She had finally forgotten her fear, and Panther
considered that for a moment. She had come here not for glory, or personal
gain, or any advantage, but for the life of her friend.

 
          
“Tell
me, Sun Conch, what happens to you if High Fox is blamed for this?”

 
          
She
gave Panther a confused look. “I’ll be very sad, Elder. It’s not right. High
Fox loved Red Knot more than anything. If they catch him and kill him …” Sun
Conch placed her hands on the sides of her head, pressing as if to stop the
thoughts. “If they do that, I’ll see it through his eyes, live it with him.
Wondering how, and why, a man could love a woman with all of his heart—and then
be condemned for her murder. How would you feel, Elder, if it happened to you?”

 
          
A
pain, like a bone stiletto, pierced Panther’s heart. Sickness welled in his
stomach. The ache, buried for so many years, slithered out from the dark place
where it hid behind his bones. Yes, you know, don’t you?

 
          
“Elder?”
Sun Conch had leaned toward him, worry on her owlish face.

 
          
Panther
raised a hand, hoping it didn’t tremble. “It’s all right, girl. Just a twinge,
that’s all.”

 
          
For
the first time in many Comings of the Leaves, his soul had been touched. “Are
you human, girl, or a wicked spirit sent to torment me?”

 
          
“What?”
she asked in confusion. “Human? Elder, I don’t understand.”

 
          
“Nothing,
nothing.”

 
          
“Elder,
is it so wrong to do something just because it’s right?”

 
          
Panther
lifted his bowl and. drank the liquid down to the thin coating of sand in the
bottom. This he rubbed away with his fingers. “Right? As I understand the
situation, if your High Fox is exonerated, Copper Thunder, Water Snake, and
everyone else are going to war. Is it better to sacrifice one man to save
others? Or to save one and sacrifice countless innocent people? You’re the one who
worried about going to war. You tell me. What is right?”

 
          
Sun
Conch stared at him. Finally, she murmured, “I don’t know, Elder. Do you?”

 
          
How
many years had be been wrestling with just this question? That familiar
darkness stirred his soul, slithering around inside him. How did a man know
what was just when even the gods themselves did not? He couldn’t help but
glance suspiciously at the two shrines flanking his house.

 
          
Sun
Conch followed his gaze. “What are those, Elder?” “Come, I’ll show you. Then,
perhaps, you can answer your own question.” He rose stiffly, rounded the fire,
and walked to the eastern shrine. Sun Conch followed warily and took a deep
breath as Panther lifted the weathered and cracked deer hide flap.

 
          
The
fire cast wavering orange light into the interior. There, seated on a squat
wooden frame, sat a pale statue the size of a man. Wooden offering bowls lay
before him, empty. The figure was made of wood, molded clay, and sewn hide. It
was painted in white clay, but a thick black band circled the chest, its
interior dotted with white spots. Sunbursts painted its cheeks in faded red.
Wavering lines extended down the arms where they rested on the knees. The legs
were blue, crisscrossed by irregular lines.

 
          
A
patch of hair, cut from a bear’s hide, covered the top of the skull, and
glinted with small sections of shell. Polished oyster-shell eyes decorated the
face, and gave the god a wide-eyed nacre stare. The nose was thin, straight,
and painted a faded yellow. A broad mouth, the corners turned down in sadness,
had been carved into the wood.

 
          
“Seen
him before?” Panther asked.

 
          
“No.”
But she knelt, her eyes wide in reverence, and bqwed her head lest she offend
the deity.

 
          
“Not
many people have, girl. It’s one of the things wrong with the world. All out of
balance. You look upon Ohona.”

 
          
Sun
Conch jerked her head up, wonder in her eyes. “Greetings, Great Lord.” “Go back
to the fire, girl. A skim of stew remains. Cup up a handful and bring it over
here for the bowls. Ohona is hungry.” Sun Conch hastened to comply. She ran
back to the fire, scooped a cupful of dregs from the bottom of the pot, and
returned. Hesitantly, she let it dribble into the bowl.

 
          
“Thank
you for the world you made for us, Great One,” Panther intoned the old prayer.
“Bless this food to your use and shed your benevolence upon us.”

 
          
To
Panther’s surprise, Sun Conch reached beneath her cape and drew out a small
twist of tobacco, which she laid before Ohona. “Thank you, Great Lord. Bless me
and my friend High Fox. He is blamed for something he didn’t do.”

 
          
Panther
let the flap drop and studied Sun Conch. “Best scoop up what’s left for the
other one.”

 
          
The
fearful glance Sun Conch gave the other hut showed that she understood who the
occupant must be. She went back to the pot, scraped up what was left, and met
Panther at the western shrine. Panther lifted the flap to expose Okeus to the
gaudy light of the fire. Painted in black, he was the opposite of Ohona. He had
a white band on his chest, dotted with black. His shell eyes glimmered in the
firelight, but unlike Ohona, he was smiling as if in great glee.

 
          
Sun
Conch bowed low, her forehead almost touching the dirt. Cautiously, she poured
the remains into the empty bowl before Okeus. Then looked up at Panther.
“Aren’t you going to ask his blessing?”

 
          
“No.”

 
          
Panther
let the flap drop and walked over to his fire. He settled himself on his log
and picked up the boiled oyster drill. With a splinter, he coaxed the body out
of the interior; then he plucked off the horny plate and popped the animal into
his mouth. As he chewed, he used the corner of his breech clout to rub the moss
from the shell’s exterior.

 
          
Sun
Conch returned slowly, glancing back and forth between Panther and Okeus’
shrine.

 
          
“Sit
down, girl. You’re not ready for the answer yet.” Panther squinted at the
polished shell, and belched.

 
          
Sun
Conch just stood, frowning.

 
          
Panther
didn’t even look at her. “Why should I become entangled with this mess your
friend High Fox has gotten himself into?”

 
          
After
a long silence, Sun Conch said, “I’m sure Black Spike would pay you handsomely
for defending his son.”

 
          
“I
see. And what could he give me that I don’t already have?”

 
          
“He’s
the Weroance. He is paid whatever tribute he asks from his people. You could
have corn, copper, tobacco, steatite, greenstone, shell, puccoon… why,
anything.”

 
          
“I
grow or gather enough food for my needs. The same with tobacco. Copper and
puccoon? Those are for showing off, proclaiming wealth and status. Who would I
preen for? The seagulls? They don’t care, and, frankly, neither do I. Stone for
making tools? I’ve already built everything I need.”

 
          
She
shifted uncomfortably, and the bright feathers of her cape shimmered in the
firelight. “You must want something.”

 
          
“What
I want, no man can offer me.” Then, on impulse, he gave Sun Conch an evil glare
worthy of Okeus. “What about you?”

 
          
“I
want to save—”

 
          
“No.
What about you? What if I want you? Hmm? If I go and speak for this friend of
yours, will you give yourself to me? Become my slave? Live here and do my
bidding? Is it worth that much to you, Sun Conch? Do you believe in ‘right’
enough to sacrifice yourself in your friend’s place? Give up your clan and
family? How about your very soul?” Panther laughed at the girl’s horrified
expression. “Ah, I see. Well, no matter. I’ve actually enjoyed talking to you.
Tomorrow, the weather will be calm again. Go. Tell your beloved High Fox that I
wish him luck.”