Death in the Time of Ice (30 page)

They hurried toward the Sacred Hill, following the narrow footprints.

I remember something,
thought-spoke Jeek.
Right after Aja Hama was killed, Stitcher came to the gathering. He was called the New One then. And he was wet. Dripping. He had been to the stream. The day was not warm, but it looked like he had been in the water.

Do you think he washed off the Red of Aja Hama after he killed her?
Enga shook her head as soon as she asked the question.
Why would he kill her, though? I know she did not like him. But to kill her!

Jeek gave her no answer, just plunged ahead up the hill.

Enga followed, fighting the rising wind that whipped her garments and her hair in all directions. Snow fell harder. She pondered what it meant, if Tog could indeed thought-speak with Stitcher. Kin could always understand kin.

Stitcher was taller than any Hamapa, but not as tall as most Tall Ones. Was he truly a Tall One? Could he be kin to Tog? How could that be?

They approached the Holy Cave, still tracking Stitcher. Enga’s mind whirled like the wild wind, which tossed snow into the air from the ground and stung her cheeks. If Stitcher did do harm to Aja Hama, did Tog know about it? Did he help him? But Aja Hama was the birth mother of Tog. Nothing made any sense.

The wind had blown the new fallen snow off the side of the hill. The ground was bare. The footprints ended just before they reached the Holy Cave.

I remember something else, too,
thought-spoke Jeek again.
Stitcher hides antlers under a bush in the woods. But after he carved the buttons for Aja Hama, he never carved anything else from antler. He has done many carvings, but always from wood.
He frowned in concentration, puzzling as he thought it out.
I saw him in the woods with the antlers and wondered why he kept them there, in the forest. I saw him take an antler from the pile when I went to get the spears for the musk-ox kill.
His eyes bulged.
It must be the antler he has now.

He hides antlers? Are they caribou antlers?

Jeek screwed up his face, bringing the picture back. He nodded. He was sure they were caribou and that Stitcher had hidden them.

That means he does not want us to see them. Or to know he has them.

Yes, that is what I think,
answered Jeek.

Enga wondered if Tog knew about the antlers. She wondered what exactly he knew about Stitcher.

Chapter 28

The wind carried a sound to Enga Dancing Flower’s ears. It could have been the sound of a small trapped hare, but Enga knew what it was. She had heard that quiet keening before. It was a sound she had heard long ago. When she had attained the age of eight summers, she had heard it.

She had left the group to lie on a cool stone at the edge of the village. Two figures had appeared on a rise behind the wipiti. One had made this noise. It had sounded like weeping, but was a different sound than a Hamapa would make. Had that long-ago Tall One been Stitcher? He had been imploring someone, someone who had been backing away from him, refusing something to him. Had that been Jansa Wild Wind, as Enga thought at the time? Her adopted mother and later Hama of the tribe?

The alien weeping did not come from the Holy Cave, though. She cocked her head, then looked at Jeek. They agreed they should find the source. It was hard to hear above the roar of the wind, blowing more and more fiercely.

It comes from the Burying Place, Enga Dancing Flower.

Yes, you are right. I think Stitcher makes the sound. But let us go there quietly. I have never known Stitcher to detect scent. We can get close to him without him knowing we are near.

She waved her hand for Jeek to follow and they crept through the woods, keeping to the soft fir needles and avoiding the crunchy poplar leaves, to the edge of the clear space that was the Burying Place. Stitcher sat cross-legged on top of Aja Hama’s grave. He sobbed and made soft sounds, like speech, that Enga could not understand. His sounds mixed with the moan of the wind. While they watched, he threw himself face down onto the grave and pounded the ground with his fist.

Enga and Jeek together wished they could tell what was bothering him. Enga held her breath and concentrated as hard as she could.

But I can understand him.
Tog’s close thought-speak made Enga jump. He was behind them. She had been trying so hard to read Stitcher she had not sensed his approach.

I thought you went to your wipiti.
Why was he here?

No, I wanted to see if I could help Stitcher. I felt his distress.

You can see his thoughts?
asked Enga.
How?

And he sees mine. Look.

Stitcher stopped wailing and scrambled to his feet, facing them. The thoughts that ran between Tog and Stitcher were private ones and Enga couldn’t overhear them. She didn’t understand what was happening. She grew anxious, not being able to catch their thoughts.

Tog walked over to Sticher. They appeared to be communicating. What private thoughts were these? She strained her mind to the utmost, but could not overhear anything. She watched their actions and concentrated.

The two males gestured toward Enga. Tog’s gestures were angry. Stitcher hung his head, then looked at Tog and nodded.

The events of the last few suns finally fell into place and formed a nice, neat line in her mind. Enga grabbed Jeek’s shoulder and drew him into the trees to confer.

* * *

What is it, Enga Dancing Flower?

I think I have figured this out, but I am not certain. You are clever, Jeek. Help me.

Jeek waited for her to go on. Enga Dancing Flower had called him clever. A bright glow lit up inside his chest.

Tog Flint Shaper and Stitcher can understand each other. Kin can always understand kin. So is Tog Flint Shaper kin to Stitcher? How can that be?

Tog Flint Shaper, kin to Stitcher? Tog Flint Shaper is not a Tall One. Stitcher is not a Hamapa.
But, when he pictured Stitcher next to the Tall Ones in his mind, he could see that Stitcher was not as tall as most of them. He was slender like them, but his face sometimes looked a little more like a Hamapa face than a Tall One’s face. And his eyes were wide set, like Aja Hama’s. Jeek gazed at Enga. His brows rose as understanding began to dawn.

But why does Stitcher hide antlers in the woods? And why did he hold one at our wipiti?
asked Jeek.

Do you know that Hama was killed with a caribou antler? Stabbed with it?

Jeek gulped and grabbed his elbows, hugging himself hard.
Stitcher hid the antlers there so we would not know he killed Aja Hama? Was he going to kill Hama tonight? But why?

* * *

Let us think just a bit more. When he first arrived, Hama announced that the New One had been cast out of his tribe
, thought-spoke Enga Dancing Flower.

So she understood him, too?

She must have. How else would she know that? He must have told her.
Scenes from the past ran through her head.

The young Tall One, arguing and crying with Jansa Wild Wind right after she became Hama.

The New One, showing up a few years later and asking admittance into the tribe. He had not been admitted as a full member until after the death of Aja Hama, the one who hated him, but he was fed and given shelter.

But that Hama never wanted him here. She had even spurned the beautiful gift he had given her, the carving of herself. She had never shown it to the tribe.

And Aja Hama and Tog Flint Shaper, the birth son of the Aja Hama, could both understand his thoughts.

Tog left Stitcher and walked back to Enga and Jeek.

We have reached an understanding
, Tog thought-spoke.
He will not bother you again, Enga Dancing Flower.
Then he paused, watching her closely.
What is it? Something else is bothering both of you.

Enga stood tall, took a deep breath, and answered him over the drum beating inside her head.
If you can read Stitcher’s thoughts, and Aja Hama could also read them, then he is kin to you as you are kin to Aja Hama.

Tog looked at Enga, sending her amazement.
Kin? Stitcher, my kin?
He looked back at the Tall One, then again to Enga.

A jay screamed nearby and took wing. Did he sense their distress?

And the kin of Aja Hama
, added Enga.

Jeek hunkered down quietly, watching them.

Enga thought-spoke,
His tribe cast him out because he is different from them. He is only partly a Tall One. Our tribe accepted him because that is what we do. But Aja Hama did not want him to stay. She tried to cast him out again. And she is his birth mother.

My birth mother coupled with a
Tall One
?
Tog looked bewildered.

Enga tried to picture the coupling of Aja Hama and a Tall One.

Then she whirled around. Stitcher had come near and was watching the trio. He still held the piece of sharp antler. They stood just inside the shadow of the woods that surrounded the clearing for the Burying Place. A flock of squawking geese flew high overhead and the wind stirred the branches of the poplars, raining snow onto them.

You are my birth brother
, thought-spoke Tog to Stitcher, opening his mind to all of them.
Is this true? We have the same birth mother?

Stitcher was catching Tog’s thought-speak. Stitcher nodded. Then Tog nodded. Enga waited impatiently for Tog to report their conversation to her.

They kept conversing. Finally, she could wait no more.
Did Stitcher kill Aja Hama, his birth mother?

No, Enga Dancing Flower,
answered Tog,
although he confesses he wanted to at times.

Then who killed her?
asked Jeek.

Yes, who?
echoed Enga.

Tog gave his half-brother a steady look, then answered.
Stitcher saw Nanno Green Eyes slay her own sister. Nanno Green Eyes could not stand for Jansa Wild Wind to be Hama. She never liked her sister. Nanno Green Eyes held hate for many. For Jansa Wild Wind who was the Aja Hama, for you and your birth sister, and for Stitcher.

Why did she hate Stitcher?
asked Enga.

Because he carved figures of Aja Hama, but never would carve one of her.

Is that a reason to hate someone?

She didn’t need good reasons.

Ask him if her feet were wrapped when she killed Aja Hama,
thought-spoke Enga to Tog.

Tog turned back to Stitcher and they had a short conversation.

Yes,
Tog reported.
He saw her come out of the wipiti and strip off her foot wrappings. They were bloodied. He went inside to see what had happened and stepped in her Red. He stripped his own foot wrappings off before he left the wipiti and threw them into the stream while he was getting rid of the rest of her Red that clung to him, then made new ones. He had touched her all over to see if he could revive her, but he could not.

I saw him return from the stream,
thought-spoke Jeek.
He was all wet.

Stitcher wanted to kill Nanno Green Eyes tonight,
thought-spoke Tog.
But he found he could not do it. Even thought he knew she killed his mother.

Stitcher limped back to the Burying Place of Aja Hama and drew a carved figure from his pouch. This one was newly carved, similar to the one of Aja Hama he had first carved, but even more beautiful. He laid the figure on her grave. The lush female curves were worked in smooth, loving strokes, and the wood was polished so it glowed in the sunlight.

Then he collapsed on the grave and started sobbing again. He stabbed the antler into the ground over and over. Tog sank to the ground beside him and buried his face in his hands.

Enga thought she could feel Stitcher’s sorrow. He had loved his mother even though she had never shown love for him. Tears sprang to her eyes. Enga knelt and stroked Stitcher’s head until his sobs quieted. Tog rose and nodded to Enga. They left Stitcher to mourn in his own fashion.

Chapter 29

We came from beneath the ground, the legends say, we came from the sunrise of the east, or the sunset of the west. We climbed up to the light from the bowels of our holy mountain, we climbed down from the sky by a ladder of arrows.

—
Indians
,
William Brandon, p. 20

There had been too many unpleasant council gatherings recently, Bahg Swiftfeet thought, hoping this would be a good one. Roh Lion Hunter, as Hama Dy, stood and started the meeting at dark time.

We have an unpleasant task tonight. Let us start with a Song of Mourning. We have lost our Hama once more. We will do one last act of grieving.

Hama had died during the dark time, two nights ago. Bahg had gotten the message from Zhoo of Still Waters as soon as it happened. The tribe had mourned her at first sun and buried her at high sun, that same sun time. Some of the mourning had been sincere, some had not. There had been no council that night. Now another sun time had passed and the tribe was ready to deal with the future.

Having a full stomach is a wonderful thing,
thought Bahg. He gave a loud belch. Their night meal had pleasantly filled his belly.

The wind blew past, cold tonight, reminding Bahg that Cold Season was upon them. At least the Hamapa would be able to make it through until next Seed Season.