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

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BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)

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Forty-eight

T
he news had traveled like a racing wolf. Within a single hand of time, everyone around Sandy Point Village knew that Pitch had left to carry a message to the matron of the North Wind People—a message Thunderbird had given Tsauz in a Dream. Many people, tired from running and heartsick over their losses, rejoiced that Thunderbird had told Tsauz how to stop the war. But there were others—Raven People who’d been looking forward to killing North Wind People—who grumbled around their fires while they crafted enough spears to serve their needs five times over.

Rain Bear’s elkhide cape billowed as he and Evening Star slowly continued up the trail toward the hastily arranged meeting place. He had picked an old hunter’s storage lodge some distance from the camps. Dogrib’s warriors had kicked out the squatters who occupied it and had seen to the refurbishment of the place. Rain Bear hoped they would be away from prying eyes and interference. Guards stood every ten paces, ringing the lodge like hard-eyed statues.

“My Chief, let me examine this place before you enter.” Dogrib trotted toward the moss-covered lodge in the trees ahead. Warriors, thicker than the trees themselves, stood around talking, laughing, casting curious glances at each other.

“At least no one has thrown anything pointed in our direction,” Evening Star mused wryly.

He shot her a glance from the corner of his eye. “We just got here. There’ll be plenty of time for that after the council.”

“I love optimists.”

He was puzzled by her, and still more than a little off balance by what had occurred that night in his lodge. He hadn’t been prepared for the passion of their lovemaking—either for his reaction, or for how she had clung to him as her body tensed and undulated under his.

Nor was that all. Since their coupling she had changed. He’d been surprised by the emergence of a cutting wit and subtle but dry sense of humor. He had heard her laugh, and periodically, a sparkle lit her blue eyes.

A terrible longing grew within him. More than anything, he just wanted time to learn her moods, see her laugh. From somewhere came the memory of Cimmis’s offer: He could leave. Take this marvelous woman, load his canoe, and paddle off into the north with his family. They could build a lodge on one of the small islands, fish, pick berries, and live out their lives.

If only … if only …

Dogrib reemerged from the lodge; his long white hair blazed in the morning’s yellow gleam. He waved Rain Bear forward. At that moment the other chiefs emerged from the trees, maintaining the fiction that they had all arrived together.

Rain Bear nodded to this one and that, wondering if the old lodge would hold them all. Before he could enter, Dogrib grasped his arm and whispered, “There is a new war chief here: Brush Wasp. Says he’s Gray Owl Clan from Trailing Raspberry Village. I don’t believe it.”

“Why not?” Rain Bear whispered and glanced at the two guards.

Dogrib’s eyes bored into Rain Bear’s. “Look at his earrings.”

Rain Bear followed the others under the flap into the council.

Nearly two tens of chiefs packed themselves in two concentric circles around the fire. The chiefs formed the inner ring while their war chiefs knelt behind them. Rain Bear knew Brush Wasp instantly. The rough-looking young man sat cross-legged to his right, alone. He had seen perhaps twenty summers, but the battles he’d fought showed on his face. A long scar cut across his forehead, as though someone had almost succeeded in scalping him. He obviously had no chief here. His appearance would have meant little were it not for his earrings. They had been beaten from copper nuggets.

Copper was the property of the North Wind People. The rare nuggets were jealously guarded and only given to Raven servants for the most meritorious of service.

Had Brush Wasp simply forgotten he was wearing them?

The grizzled old Talon nodded as Rain Bear walked around the circle. He and Evening Star took seats beside Goldenrod, Dogrib settling close behind them. They made a stark contrast. Goldenrod was twenty-six and wore his black hair coiled in a stern bun over his right ear. Evening Star, on the other hand, had left her long hair loose. It fell over the shoulders of her elk suede dress in glossy red waves. It seemed that all eyes were upon her.

Goldenrod whispered, “The warriors outside are growing restless.”

Rain Bear raised his hands to the assembly. “I pray that the Ancestors will watch over us today and grant us wisdom. We have many decisions to make.”

Chief Black Mountain leaned forward. His bulbous nose and shoulder-length graying black hair shone, as though freshly washed. “Let’s begin with the boy’s ‘vision.’ We have all heard the stories. It is said that Ecan’s son flew on the back of Thunderbird. That Thunderbird told him how to stop the war. Do you believe it?”

Whispers eddied through the lodge. Several chiefs shook their heads in doubt.

Rain Bear looked around the room, meeting each pair of eyes. “Rides-the-Wind believes it; so, too, does Singer Pitch. As to whether I believe it? Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve always placed more faith in the actions of men and women. But I was there for part of it. Something happened to the boy. I watched him prepare, and I saw him after he came out of the lodge. Much of what happened to him cannot be explained. How did a boy inside a lodge get soaked while the rest of the lodge remained dry? How did he get the scratches that he said were from branches?”

“I saw him at the Moon Ceremonial,” Talon said reverently. “A shaft of white light fell only on him. He seemed to glow in the night.”

“His little dog took a message to the gods,” old White Flicker added. “The Soul Keeper himself saw the dog rise like smoke.”

Several grunts of assent followed this. Rain Bear said nothing, but wondered at the awe in so many of the chiefs’ eyes. They
wanted
to believe.

Black Mountain was among the skeptics. “What was in this vision, Great Chief? What did the boy say? That he can do what? Turn himself into a shaft of white light and burn the Council away, or send his Spirit Dog to rip Ecan’s throat out? Or will he simply walk up to Fire Village and order Cimmis to leave us alone?”

Mutters of both assent and dissent rose in response.

Rain Bear spread his hands in a gesture for silence. “I do not know the whole vision. He would not say. I do know, however, that Thunderbird told Tsauz that only the matron of the North Wind People could stop the war. His message was for her alone.”

Talon straightened where he sat behind Black Mountain, and his white hair glinted in the firelight. “Then, you do not know what message Pitch carries to Matron Astcat?”

“Tsauz told no one except Pitch.”

Disagreeable grumbling broke out.

He shouted above the din, “But Tsauz told us other things you must know! They are the reason I called this council.” He lifted his arms again and waited for the din to hush. “Tsauz told us that the North Wind People will be leaving Fire Mountain, abandoning Fire Village, and moving to Wasp Village. They will be on the trail and vulnerable for several days.”

“Then this may be our chance!” old Bluegrass shouted. “When?”

Black Mountain twisted around to speak to Talon, then turned back and called, “None of us wish to fight, unless we have to. Have you received an answer from Cimmis? Will he and his wife step down and turn over their Starwatcher to us?”

“We have received no answer. But it no longer matters. If we are to end the North Wind People’s attacks,
we must strike in the next few days
.”

Every chief turned to whisper to his war chief, and a rumble of voices filled the lodge.

Goldenrod loudly called, “As you know, my war chief is not here. He and several of our warriors are still out keeping vigil along the trails, so I am hindered by not having his counsel today—but I have serious doubts about all this.” He turned to Rain Bear. “You lived in Fire Village for many summers. Chief Cimmis is not a fool, is he?”

“He is not a fool,” Rain Bear agreed.

“Then isn’t it possible that the boy was left behind at War Gods Village just to give us these words? Perhaps if we attack the North Wind People on the trail to Wasp Village, we will be leading our warriors into an ambush. Perhaps they are not moving at all.”

Heads nodded and conversations hushed.

Rain Bear gave them a serious nod. “It’s possible. Cimmis would love to crush our forces in a single blow. But I think the boy was telling the truth. Regardless, I believe it is prudent to attack the North Wind People if they leave Fire Mountain.”

Brush Wasp clamped his jaw.

Rain Bear noted it, and let his gaze drift around the circle. Many
of the chiefs here were new to him. They’d come in for the Moon Ceremonial and had remained to hear this new talk of an alliance.

Bluegrass rose to his knees and propped his hands on his narrow hips. “Would someone please tell me why the boy would reveal this? He has no reason to. We are his enemies. Telling us about the North Wind People’s move will endanger the lives of his relatives.” He waved a hand in self-deprecation. “This makes no sense to me, but perhaps I am just not seeing as clearly as others in this lodge.”

Black Mountain glared across the fire at Rain Bear. “Bluegrass is right. Why would the boy tell us this?”

Evening Star said, “He was bargaining with me.”

“Bargaining? With
you
? To what end?” Black Mountain asked.

She answered, “He asked me to help save his father’s life.”

“Save Ecan!”
Bluegrass cracked his walking stick across a hearthstone, and his toothless mouth twisted in rage. “Over the dead bodies of every member of my clan!”

“Hear me out!” Evening Star shouted as the lodge exploded with questions. “If you can attack and win against Cimmis’s warriors, you can break the North Wind People once and for all! Isn’t that worth sparing the life of one man?”

“No!” Bluegrass struggled to his feet. He had to brace both hands on his walking stick to remain standing while he glowered at the other chiefs in the circle. “How many of you watched your families murdered before your eyes while Ecan stood on a hilltop out of spear range giving orders?”

“I did.” A young man to Rain Bear’s left rose. His fists clenched at his sides. “My mother was tortured to death while Ecan roasted my father’s intestines five paces away! If I have the chance, I’ll kill him myself! No matter what agreements you’ve made, Evening Star! Who are you to say what happens to Ecan?”

Just above a whisper, she answered, “No one.”

Bluegrass pounded his walking stick on the floor. “Have you agreed to this, Rain Bear?”

He glanced at Evening Star. She had her head down. Red hair spilled down the front of her cape, glinting in the firelight.

“No,” he answered. “I have
not
agreed to it.”

A clamor of shouted questions rose. Many people waved their hands, trying to get his attention. He pointed to Bluegrass. “Yes, Elder?”

“I want to know why she’s here. Has it occurred to you that she might be playing us like a spider luring bugs into its web? That she and the boy are working together to get us all killed?”

Roars went up from every part of the lodge.

Rain Bear lifted his voice above the din. “I asked her here because I thought she might be able to help us understand the North Wind—”

“Why do you trust her?”
Bluegrass spat the words. He wobbled on his walking stick. “She is one of
them
!”

He didn’t see who muttered, “He’s just thinking with his penis.”

People began to stand up, as if preparing to walk out on the meeting.

“Fools!”
Evening Star shouted as she stood. Before Rain Bear could react, she had whipped a hafted obsidian knife from her belt pouch and raised her other arm. Her sleeve fell back, revealing her pale forearm.

As the stunned chiefs watched, she slashed the underside of her arm. A thin line of red widened as blood began to leak down her arm.

“I give you my oath!” Her blue eyes were flashing, daring each of them. “The Council, Great Chief Cimmis, and that foul maggot Ecan are my enemies!”

BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)

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