Read People of the Longhouse Online
Authors: W. Michael Gear
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal
People of the Longhouse (13 page)
A
s they marched up the twisting moon-silvered trail, the air was fragrant with the ghosts of long-dead ferns and rushes. Gonda shivered beneath his cape. With each frigid gust of wind, the trees shook moisture down upon them. The drops sprinkled Koracoo’s hood and shimmered like white beads upon her shoulders. Black spruces and ankle-deep drifts of moldering leaves lined the mountain path. He slogged his way through them behind Koracoo.
s they marched up the twisting moon-silvered trail, the air was fragrant with the ghosts of long-dead ferns and rushes. Gonda shivered beneath his cape. With each frigid gust of wind, the trees shook moisture down upon them. The drops sprinkled Koracoo’s hood and shimmered like white beads upon her shoulders. Black spruces and ankle-deep drifts of moldering leaves lined the mountain path. He slogged his way through them behind Koracoo.
Sindak and Towa brought up the rear. His new allies had been quiet for most of the journey, but had started to whisper to each other. It annoyed Gonda. Even barely adequate warriors knew better. A man on the war trail did not speak. He listened for the sounds of the enemy, or wound up with his throat slit. Either by his enemies, or his friends.
The trail curved around a hillock of rounded boulders. As he silently passed, in the night sky high above, he heard the distinctive, lonely honks of geese.
Gonda looked up, trying to see them, and made out a faint chevron of black dots, headed south. Their calls were melodic, soothing.
Sindak said, “A medicine elder told me that geese mate for life. Do you believe that, Towa? I mean, they probably don’t trace descent through the female, right? If women don’t rule the goose world, why would males mate for life?”
“Sindak—”
“Old Kelek also told me that the Flint People build platforms in the marshes for them to nest upon. The geese. Not the Flint People. It makes hunting them much easier. We should do that.”
“Hunt the Flint People?” Towa asked.
“No, the geese, you moron. We already hunt the Flint People.”
Gonda turned and glared at them. They both went silent. They made a strange pair. Towa stood a head taller than Sindak and had broad muscular shoulders. Sindak, on the other hand, was lean and homely. His beaked face and deeply sunken eyes reminded Gonda of a winter-killed hawk that had been drying in the sun for too long. But the youth moved like a warrior. He was agile and catlike, whereas Towa always seemed to be stumbling over something.
Koracoo veered around a wind-piled mound of autumn leaves, and Gonda saw the cornhusk doll clearing. Moonglow sheathed the crooked limbs of the gigantic oaks that fringed the meadow, icing them in white.
“At last,” Gonda said. “Let’s eat something and get to sleep.”
“I agree. Daylight is not far away.”
Gonda trudged into the clearing. He unslung his bow and quiver and set them aside; then he knelt and began scooping aside leaves. Koracoo tied CorpseEye to her belt and crouched to help him.
Sindak and Towa stood looking on as though mystified.
Curtly, Gonda said, “I’ll build the fire if someone else will gather wood. Like you two.”
Sindak scanned the leaf-filled clearing. “Are we camping here? It looks damp. Why don’t we get out of the wet leaves?”
Irritated, Gonda said, “Why don’t you close your mouth and go collect wood?”
Sindak stiffened. Gonda’s tone had obviously offended the youth, but Gonda didn’t care. When Sindak and Towa made no move to obey his order, Gonda rose to his feet to be even more unpleasant … .
Koracoo said, “Sit down, Gonda.”
He clenched his fists, gave her a distasteful glance, and then did as she’d instructed.
Koracoo explained, “Sindak, once we get the fire built, it will be warmer sleeping among the leaves than out in the open. If you and Towa will gather some dry branches, we’ll cook something to warm our bellies; then we’ll rise before dawn. That means we don’t have much time to rest.”
Sindak muttered something Gonda couldn’t hear, but it sounded mutinous. Gonda glowered, and Sindak took a threatening step toward him.
“Enough,” Koracoo ordered in a voice that brooked no disagreement.
Towa quickly grabbed Sindak’s arm. To Koracoo, he said, “We will gather wood, War Chief.”
As he and Sindak wandered away and started collecting wood, Koracoo watched them. They moved through the oaks, breaking the dry lower branches from the trees, casting glances at Koracoo and Gonda. “They’re curious, aren’t they?” she asked.
“Curious? I think they’re both simpletons. We should send them home before they get us killed.”
Koracoo kept her eyes on the young men, studying them. “They are careless. At least Sindak is. I thought for a moment he might try to take you.”
“That would have been a fatal error.”
“It would also have been your fault. You seem determined to split our party in two. Stop it. We all have to be on the same side.”
Anger rose hotly in his veins. In a hushed voice, he said, “They are Hills People, Koracoo. They don’t know what
our
side is! They are our enemies. Do you really think they want to help us rescue
our
children?”
our
side is! They are our enemies. Do you really think they want to help us rescue
our
children?”
Her expression turned to stone. “I am always prepared for the worst, Gonda. But until they demonstrate they are not on our side, I plan to treat them as though they are.”
“Well, that’s foolish. They probably have secret orders to kill us and our children as soon as they have Zateri.”
“They may, indeed.” She tucked a lock of wind-whipped black hair behind her ear. “But given their inexperience as warriors, I doubt they can accomplish it. And our best defense against treachery is to try and befriend them.”
“Befriend them? Are you joking?”
“We will be traveling together for many days, Gonda. Perhaps, moons. It will not help us if you are constantly antagonizing them. I won’t tolerate it.”
He felt like he was about to explode. To ease some of his tension, Gonda dug into the leaves with a vengeance, scooping armfuls away and piling them to the side. He needed to clear a swath of ground large enough for three people to sleep. One person would always be
on guard. Through gritted teeth, he finally said, “I will do as you ask, Koracoo.”
on guard. Through gritted teeth, he finally said, “I will do as you ask, Koracoo.”
“Thank you.”
When he’d scooped enough armfuls away to reveal a broad circle of bare earth, his anger had faded. He sank down and slipped his pack from his shoulders.
Koracoo unslung her pack, as well. While she rummaged around inside, pulling out sacks of jerky, cornmeal, and dried onion, Gonda fought the overwhelming sensation of despair that descended over him like a black fog. His heart was beating a slow, dull rhythm against his ribs.
He removed the small stone pot where he kept coals from the morning fire. “By the way,” he said, trying to lighten the darkness, “if these are the two best warriors Atotarho has, we need to attack the Hills People immediately. We should be able to conquer the whole nation in a few days.”
She smiled faintly. “I’ll consider it. After we’ve found the children.”
Gonda removed the stopper from his pot and dumped the coals on the ground, then began carefully selecting the driest leaves he could find and piling them over the coals.
Koracoo’s smile faded, and her gaze returned to Sindak and Towa, who were cracking off dead branches while they murmured to each other. She shook her head lightly. “I can’t figure it out, but there’s more here than is apparent, Gonda.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure yet. I need to think about it for a time. By morning, I’ll have pieced it together better.”
Koracoo pulled her boiling bag and tripod from her pack. The tripod, three long sticks tied at the top, stood five hands tall. She spread the tripod’s legs, then suspended her boiling bag in the center and tied the laces to the top of the tripod.
“I still have a full water bag,” Gonda said. He removed it from his belt and handed it to her.
Koracoo loosened the laces, tipped it up, and poured the water into the boiling bag. “That should make enough soup to feed us tonight and tomorrow morning.”
As Koracoo started crumbling venison jerky into the boiling bag, Gonda bent down to blow on the leaf-covered coals. The longer he blew, the brighter the glow became until the scent of smoke rose. It
took several moments before the leaves caught and flames flickered. Gonda added more dry leaves to keep the small blaze going.
took several moments before the leaves caught and flames flickered. Gonda added more dry leaves to keep the small blaze going.
When Sindak and Towa saw the flames, they trotted across the clearing to dump their armloads of wood beside the fire.
“I could eat an entire buffalo,” Towa said, and crouched before the fire. “What are we having?”
“Jerky and watery cornmeal gruel with dried onions,” Koracoo said.
“Good enough.” Towa smiled, trying to be pleasant. “While we were out in the trees, I picked up a good cobble for the boiling bag.”
He pulled a rounded stone the size of his fist from his pack and set it at the edge of the flames; then he helpfully began laying twigs over it. As the wood burned, it would heat the rock.
Sindak made no attempt to help. He knelt and glanced uneasily at Gonda and Koracoo. Oddly, that made Gonda feel better. Getting too friendly too fast was the dead giveaway of an assassin.
As the tiny blaze grew to a fire, Koracoo lifted the sack filled with dried onions and poured some into the boiling bag. The sweet fragrance of onions rose.
In anticipation, Towa pulled his wooden cup from his belt pouch and nervously turned it in his hands while he waited.
Sindak’s nostrils flared at the aroma. To Towa, he said, “My wife used to make jerky and cornmeal gruel.”
Towa looked at him askance. “Puksu cooked?”
“Not often, but occasionally, when she wasn’t over at her mother’s place in the longhouse cursing me.”
“Was it good?”
“Her cursing?”
“The gruel.”
“Oh. Sure. Unless she’d poisoned it. I don’t think it’s healthy for a wife to know so many Spirit plants. The temptation is too strong.”
“As I recall, the study of Spirit plants was something she took up after she married you.”
Sindak scratched beneath his chin. “She told me she wanted to become a Healer. I believed her.”
Towa chuckled and shook his head.
Gonda sat quietly for several moments before he said, “I hope you two are a whole lot smarter than you look or sound.”
The two youths blinked, and Koracoo glared at Gonda with lethal intent.
“Uh … ,” Gonda said with a shrug. “That was a joke.”
“Oh. Ha.” Towa smiled politely.
Sindak looked like he wanted to get his hands around Gonda’s throat.
Gonda placed more branches on the flames and glanced around the clearing. Fire shadows danced through the massive oak limbs. He watched them for a while; then his gaze returned to Sindak, and he found the youth staring at Koracoo’s breasts as she bent to stir the gruel. The neck of her cape had fallen open, revealing a glimpse of her chest. Generally, the youth had dark beady eyes that shifted as though rolling around loose in their sockets, but not now. He’d fixed unblinking on Koracoo’s breasts like a starving wolf about to leap upon an unsuspecting rabbit.
“Sindak,” Gonda said.
He turned. “What?”
“Life is an uncertain thing. You might want to consider that.”
Sindak’s brows lifted. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; then he nodded and looked away. He had understood perfectly, but Koracoo did not. She glanced between Gonda and Sindak with a hostile expression on her face.
Gonda explained, “Nothing to worry about. I’m befriending him.” He casually watched the sparks flit upward into the night sky. Only the brightest campfires of the dead shone in the wash of moonlight.
“War Chief?” Towa said. “The cobble is probably hot enough. Should I drop it into the boiling bag?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Gonda evaded Koracoo’s eyes. She still had her evil gaze squarely on him.
Towa rose, pulled two branches from the woodpile, and used them to pick up the hot rock. As he walked around the circle, he tripped, almost dropped the rock down Sindak’s collar, and continued to the bag. When he dropped the cobble into the water, an explosion of steam gushed up, and the rich scent of venison filled the air.
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