People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) (14 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear,Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)
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Runner made soft sounds of joy, his tail lashing the air as he snuffled and tried to lick Tsauz’s chin.
Who was that other man Father had been talking to? War Chief White Stone and Red Dog he had recognized, but that last voice? It had been so low that even if Tsauz had known him, he doubted he would have recognized his voice. He—
Father’s steps pounded the ground, and he tugged the lodge flap aside. “Tsauz? Get up, my son. I need you to travel with me today.”
“Yes, Father!”
Tsauz sat up so suddenly, Runner scrambled as he rolled across the hides.
Father ducked into the lodge. “I’m sorry my journey took so long.” He seemed to be ignoring Runner. Tsauz could hear the puppy snuffling at Father’s moccasins.
“Don’t be sorry, Father. I’m just happy to be with you.” Tsauz dutifully began rolling up their bedding hides. “When did you get back to camp?”
“Hmm?” Father said distractedly, then, “Just a short time ago. Were you asleep?”
“Yes. The sound of your voice woke me. I’m glad to see you.” Tsauz smiled his love at Father.
“And I to see you. I know this trip has been difficult for you. I’m often away, and you are alone with our slaves in Fire Village.”
“I have Runner, Father. I’m not alone.”
Runner heard his name and galloped over to lick Tsauz’s hand.
Father said, “Well, you’re very brave, but I won’t take you on my next trip. It’s too dangerous for you to be away from Fire Village. More and more villagers have been flocking to Rain Bear. Any one of them would love to harm you, and … and I couldn’t stand that.”
Tsauz beamed, finished rolling the hides, and tied them with a sea-grass cord. “Why do people flock to him? Why don’t they come to us for protection?”
Father paused, and Tsauz could feel his rage; it made the very air seethe.
In a clipped voice, Father said, “Rain Bear offers them things that we cannot. He has been pillaging villages for a long time. He has amassed great wealth, especially dentalium, and uses it to pay them to fight against us.”
“But we have great wealth, too, don’t we?”
“Yes, but we cannot afford to give it away to the filthy Raven People. We need everything we have to purchase food for ourselves. Our fishing and hunting last autumn produced barely half of what we needed to survive the winter.”
Tsauz edged closer to Father, eager to repeat the words he’d overheard. “Father, is that why we’re leaving Fire Village, because there’s no food?”
Father went still. Angrily, he snapped, “Who told you we were leaving Fire Village?”
“I—I heard you say it. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. When will we be moving to Wasp Village?”
Tsauz could hear Father’s breathing turn shallow. “Very soon, my son. Wind Scorpion arrived last night with word that Old Woman North has had a vision. She said the North Wind People must abandon
Fire Mountain. But no one is supposed to know. Do you know why?”
“No, Father.”
“Because if the Raven People knew that the North Wind People were going to abandon the Fire Mountain villages, they might take the opportunity to attack us. It would be easy enough. We will be traveling, strung out on trails for several days to get down to the coast.” Father turned and seemed to be staring across the lodge. “According to Wind Scorpion, Old Woman North said that if we travel at night the Meteor People will lead us. Wasp Village will be the rebirth of the North Wind People.”
Tsauz stroked his puppy. Runner’s fur felt soft and warm. “We will have all of our warriors on the journey, won’t we?”
“Yes, but the Raven People still might be tempted to attack us. They hate us, my son. Hate with a passion that you will never fully understand. That’s why the North Wind People have been packing in secret. We don’t want to give the Raven People time to plan and prepare an attack.”
“Are we safe here, Father?”
“I’m not sure we’re safe anywhere. And today I need you to be very brave. A huge camp of Raven People is just a short distance away.”
Tsauz’s belly clenched. “B-but we’ll be safe when we get to War Gods Village, won’t we? And we’ll get there today?”
Father patted Tsauz’s cheek. He always seemed to use a little too much force; it hurt. Nothing like when Father really got mad. Then it hurt for days afterward.
“It will depend upon how much snow has fallen on the trails, my son. But we will be there tomorrow morning for certain.”
“Then matron Weedis will give us shelter, won’t she? She’s one of the North Wind People. She won’t let anyone hurt us while we’re there.”
“Of course not.” But something hid behind his voice.
Tsauz turned blind eyes on his father. “I am looking forward to the Moon Ceremonial. Will there be many people?”
“I suspect the entire mountaintop will be infested with Raven People,” Father said distastefully. “But we will make the best of it, won’t we?”
Tsauz nodded. Father had hated Raven People for tens of summers, since the day Raven warriors destroyed his village and he saw his parents slaughtered before his eyes. He said Raven People
weren’t really human beings. More like vermin with a language. It had always puzzled Tsauz that his mother had been one of the Raven People. But she had been very beautiful. Father had often shouted that men always watched her with longing in their eyes, and that she was his alone. Perhaps that explained it.
“Will I be able to touch the stone bodies of the gods, Father? I have always wished to touch them. The Traders speak of them with such awe.”
“That’s why I wished you to come with me on this journey. I think you will be astounded. The twin War Gods are enormous and perch right on the very edge of the mountain overlooking Mother Ocean.”
“Can I help you with the Moon Ceremonial? You said I could if matron Weedis didn’t object.”
“Are you certain you wish to fast and pray while everyone else is feasting and dancing?”
“Oh, yes, Father,” Tsauz said reverently. “Someday, I plan to be a very great holy man, just like you.”
“Well, if that’s true, we’ll have to start looking for a proper teacher for you. Old Rides-the-Wind has recently placed himself in a most precarious position. As a way of making amends, I’m sure he will be willing to instruct you.”
Tsauz stared in blind disbelief. “Rides-the-Wind? Truly?”
“We will try, my son, but I can’t promise anything. He is old … and he recently gave me a hint that his health might be in jeopardy.”
Tsauz sat back on the hides and let the sense of wonder fill him. Very few boys received instruction from the old Soul Keeper. The idea made Tsauz’s thoughts swim. In a hushed voice, he said, “I would like him to teach me, Father.”
“I’m sure. I would have given my very life to have been taught by that crazy old man.” Bowls clattered as though Father were stuffing them into a hide bag.
“Didn’t he wish to teach you?”
“Well, he might have, but my grandmother said he was dangerous. She wouldn’t allow it.”
Tsauz wondered about that. Wouldn’t allow it? Rides-the-Wind was one of the most holy men in the world. Why would any matron not jump at the chance of having one of her descendants taught by such an august man?
Father finished tucking their few possessions into the bag and said, “We must hurry. The slaves have prepared breakfast around the
central fire. Let’s eat so we may be on our way. I want you to be very brave today. In fact, I’m counting on it. Just keep this one thought in your head: We are going to War Gods Village for the ceremonial. Nothing more. Understand?”
“Yes, Father.” But he had to ask himself what more there might be than the ceremonial.
P
itch blinked. Disbelief had just begun to set in. He’d been hit. The sticky blood cooling his skin, the stinging agony and insult to his flesh, couldn’t be denied. Blinking again, his vision blurred as Dzoo rushed him toward the village.
Am I going to die?
The question slipped sideways through his mind as he hurried down the familiar path. Sudden nausea gave him the slightest warning. His stomach lurched, and he pulled away from Dzoo to vomit. She didn’t even allow him the simple relief of wiping his mouth. The bitter taste of bile and acid lingered on his tongue as she propelled him forward.
Woozy and wobbling, he stumbled along. Voices were shouting. He caught the image of one of the young warriors, a village guard, as he stepped out of the trees. Dzoo seemed to be speaking from a great distance, giving orders.
The world began to spin, and Pitch whimpered in fear.
Am I dying?
Was that the hazy loose sensation that curled into the pain?
They passed more trees, vision jerking with each step. Then they were in the village. He should have been relieved at the sight of the familiar houses.
“Easy, Pitch,” Dzoo told him firmly as she lowered him to the ground. Glad to rest, he hunched forward, holding his wounded arm. A crowd gathered, whispering, asking questions.
He looked into Dzoo’s eyes as she bent over him, inspecting his wound. Her words seemed to vibrate in his bones. “You’re safe now. I must go after him.”
“No!” he had wits enough to protest. “Wait! Take warriors with you.”
Dzoo ran cool fingers down his cheek, her smile like a sunrise. “It isn’t that easy.”
He pressed his eyes closed, forcing himself to concentrate. “Dzoo, you can’t …” But when he opened them again, she was gone. Vanished.
He stared around at the gathering people, searching in vain for Dzoo. Then Roe pushed her way past the gawking crowd. He smiled up into her face. It was all right. He could die now. Looking terrified, she leaned over him, fingers probing his blood-soaked wrappings.
“I’ve sent for Father,” Roe said. “He’ll be here soon.”
She was tall and slender, with a triangular face and slanting brown eyes; she looked older than her ten and six summers. The hood of her eagle feather cape waffled in the wind as she threw his clothing back to better examine the wound.
“How bad is it?” His voice stuck in his vomit-choked throat.
“You’re bleeding.”
Roe pulled the obsidian knife from his belt and sliced the wrapping Dzoo had put on him. Blood immediately began to well in the two punctures.
“Gods!” she cried, and cut a long strip from the bottom of her leather dress. When she began wrapping it around his wound, the pain almost blinded him.
Roe cut the ends of the leather bandage and tied it; then she wiped her blood-slick hands on her red leggings. “When the bleeding stops, we’ll remove the bandage and clean …”
A din went up from the crowd, and Pitch saw his father-in-law shoulder through the press with War Chief Dogrib close behind. Dogrib’s long braid hung over his shoulder like a glistening white snake. His pink skin had an eerie yellowish glow in the morning light. It took a moment for Pitch to place the North Wind woman who walked at Rain Bear’s left: Matron Evening Star.
“Pitch!” Rain Bear dropped to one knee and said, “Roe, what happened?”
“Dzoo dragged him into camp, called me to tend his wound, and left. I don’t know anything else.”
“We were attacked,” Pitch said through gritted teeth. “Just outside
of the village. We thought we’d lost them yesterday, but apparently not.”
Rain Bear said, “Where’s Dzoo?”
“She went after them.”
Rain Bear swung around to Dogrib. “Take a war party. Go.”
Dogrib left at a run.
Rain Bear looked at Roe. “How is he?”
She shook her head. Long red-brown hair draped the front of her cape. Roe looked a great deal like Tlikit, right down to her light brown eyes. “Once the bleeding stops, I’ll take a good look at the wound. The spear didn’t break the bone, though it may have nicked it. The important part now is to stop the bleeding.”
“Who attacked you?” an old gray-haired man demanded from the edge of the crowd. “Was it one of Cimmis’s assassins? Or Ecan’s warriors?”
The crowd went silent. Several people backed away, muttering with worry.
“I don’t know,” Pitch said with a gasp.
Rain Bear rose and faced the crowd. “We don’t know anything yet. I want you to stay vigilant. Know where your children are. Make sure that your elders are safe. There may be one North Wind warrior out there, or five tens.”
Some of the women pushed away through the crowd and sprinted for their lodges. The gaps they left were quickly filled as people jostled for new positions.
Rain Bear knelt again. “Pitch, you said you thought you’d lost them. So you knew you were being followed?”
“Yes.”
“How many were there?”
“I saw two, but there had to have been more.”
Rain Bear looked up when War Chief Talon pushed through the crowd, glared uneasily at the silent Evening Star, and turned his attention to Pitch.
Talon shoved his hair away from his dark eyes and squatted beside Rain Bear. “I sent my best trackers with Dogrib. We’ll find them.”
Rain Bear nodded in gratitude, his eyes boring into Pitch’s. “Tell me what you saw. Every detail.”
“Just glimpses of hide capes. I managed to cast my spear before I was wounded. I’m sure I got him. I stabbed another.”
“Were they Wolf Tails?” Talon asked. “Assassins?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Rain Bear’s gaze went to the crowd, as though searching for the culprit, expecting to see him out there leering at them.
Pitch pulled his wounded arm forward, trying to ease the pain. Blood leaked around the edge of the bandage. Rain Bear scooped up snow and packed it onto the wound. Pitch shuddered, woozy, and wondered if he’d throw up again.
“I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”
Pitch bit his lip.
“Tell me about Antler Spoon’s village. Were you followed when you left? Is it possible that you were attacked by his villagers?”
“It’s possible … but not likely. We had problems …” He flinched when Rain Bear pressed harder on his wound. “Someone tried to kill Dzoo.”
Talon’s brown eyes slitted with deadly intent. “Who tried to kill Dzoo?”
“It’s … it’s a long story. A man they called ‘Coyote’ tried to buy Dzoo’s life from the elders.”
Rain Bear asked, “Buy her life? Are you telling me the elders had the audacity to try to
sell Dzoo
?”
Pitch groaned softly as he dug into his belt pouch and removed the bag of fetishes. “They tricked Coyote. Traded another woman in Dzoo’s place. For these.”
Rain Bear took the bag and poured the fetishes into his palm. Talon sucked in a worried breath. People moved forward, trying to see.
Talon murmured, “Hallowed Ancestors, don’t let anyone see those, or you’ll be the target of every starving person within a moon’s walk.”
Rain Bear cupped a hand over them, shielding them from sight. He shivered, as though chilled by the gorgeous obsidian fetishes. “Coyote made these?”
“Dzoo thought so.” Pitch paused to clench his jaw. “But whoever made them is very Powerful. I wouldn’t touch them for long, if I were you. They drain a man’s strength.”
Rain Bear shoved the fetishes back into the bag. “Was it Coyote who speared you?”
“Maybe.”
At a call, Rain Bear stood, looking beyond the crowd. “It’s Dogrib,” he said, and tucked the bag into his belt pouch.
Pitch forced a swallow down his dry throat. He glanced up, seeing Evening Star. She kept shooting furtive glances at Rain Bear. Thinking what?
Dogrib elbowed his way through the crowd and shot a measuring
glance at Pitch. “We found a dead man. Pitch’s spear was sticking out of his guts. He was wearing this.” He removed an object from his pocket and held it out to Rain Bear.
The chief took it and turned it over in his palm. The glorious fluted spear point shimmered. Evening Star’s quick intake of breath wasn’t lost on either Rain Bear, Dogrib, or Talon.
Rain Bear said, “I need to see the corpse.”
Talon stood up and propped his hands on his hips. “I have heard that all the Wolf Tails wear those points.” He gave Evening Star a distasteful glance. “They are supposedly gifts from the North Wind People.”
Rain Bear nodded. “Yes, and highly unusual ones at that. Do you know what they would do to you or me if we so much as touched one?”
“Kill us quick, I suspect.”
A man could Trade one of those pendants for a cycle’s supply of food. If the pendant’s Spirit was properly cared for, it was supposed to bring Dreams of the future.
Dogrib knelt beside Pitch and gave him an approving look. “Excellent cast. Your spear took him through the chest.”
Pitch blinked, trying to focus. “What about the other? Did I kill him?”
“He’s wounded.” Dogrib shoved white hair behind his ears. “I don’t know how badly. We found a spatter of gut blood.”
“And the others? There had to be others. Someone hit me from behind.”
“We found a third set of tracks. Evidently the man who wounded you. After he cast, he turned and ran.”
“Where’s Dzoo? Is she all right?”
“She’s tracking the wounded man up the trail to War Gods Village.” Dogrib’s eyes glinted when he turned to Rain Bear. “We have to find her. She’s going to need help.”
“Bah!” Talon bellowed. “Pity the poor bastard she’s tracking. You can bet that by this night, his soul is going to be wailing, lost among the forest shadows.”
Rain Bear turned to stare, as though he could see War Gods Village through the layer of clouds that cloaked the mountaintop. “Yes, find her. Tell her that Matron Evening Star and I must speak with her immediately, before the Moon Ceremonial. I need to hear her side of what happened in Antler Spoon’s village.”
“I’ll be back by nightfall.” Dogrib trotted away, motioning to several of the warriors to follow him.
Pitch tried to muster enough strength to think. His senses seemed to be flowing out with his blood. Memories flitted behind his eyes, but nothing he hadn’t already—
He stared hard at Rain Bear. “One of the last things Dzoo said to me was ‘He knows I will be his in the end.’”
“What did she mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I thought she meant that they knew each other, or at least she knew him.”
Rain Bear looked at Talon. “Let’s see this dead man.”
As he rose, Talon caught his arm in a rough grip and hissed. “This is just a distraction. You know that, don’t you? This
is
Ecan’s work, and he wants our attention focused here, around the camps. Why?”
“Probably because he …”
A low hiss of surprised voices began and built to a frightened roar. Villagers ran in all directions, scattering like a school of fish at a thrown rock.
“What’s happening?” Talon asked as he drew his stiletto with a gnarled fist.
Pitch craned his neck, trying to see as Rain Bear growled, “Speaking of your demon, Talon, here he is.”
 
 
R
ain Bear stiffened when he saw Ecan. The Starwatcher walked straight down the main trail. He had placed himself in the middle of a group of armed warriors, his white leather cape shining. A head taller than any of his men, Ecan’s dark gaze fixed on Rain Bear, then on Evening Star. An amused smile crossed his lips.
Instinctively, Rain Bear reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Evening Star’s elbow. He could feel the tension rising within her. “You all right?”
She swallowed hard, eyes narrowing. “I’d forgotten how much I hate him.”

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