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

People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) (46 page)

BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)
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Dzoo tilted her head, as though considering. “He is often here. He comes and goes. But he’s never far from me for long.”
Pitch reached out to touch her hand. “Do you know who he is?”
“Not yet. But I will. When he wears the mask, I can smell damp moss. At other times …”
Her voice faded as footsteps crunched the sand outside.
A man gruffly asked, “What are you two fools doing? And why do you both have your hands cupped over your balls? War Chief White Stone wishes to see both of you. I’ll stand guard while you’re gone.”
Dzoo sat up straighter, one elegant eyebrow cocked.
“But, Red Dog,” Deer Killer objected, “Ecan told us to stay here until dawn. I’m in enough trouble, I don’t wish to—”
“Yes, yes,” Red Dog said irritably. “That was before the great chief changed his mind. White Stone has convened a war council around the central fire. That lazy Wind Scorpion is missing, so you are each going to be leading war parties tomorrow.”
Whispers broke out, both men asking questions at the same time.
“Don’t ask me,” Red Dog said. “Go and get your orders straight from the war chief. I wouldn’t keep him waiting too long. He’s in a foul mood.”
The guards grumbled, then pounded away into the dusk.
Dzoo rose to her feet with the silence of Wolf and stared at the doorway.
A few instants passed.
Red Dog ducked his head through the curtain. He gave Pitch a gap-toothed grin that was anything but reassuring. His gray-streaked black hair was pinned back in a bun, which made his broken nose stand out even more. A tattered deerhide cape draped his burly shoulders.
“Tell me quickly,” he whispered. “I’m leaving tonight.”
Dzoo hissed, “The slaves say that Astcat and the other matrons will lead the group, encircled by the best spear throwers. Cimmis will bring up the rear. He’ll be dressed as an ordinary warrior. It won’t be easy to spot him. He—”
Someone walked up the trail outside, his steps as soft as spider silk. He carried a torch; its orange gleam edged the door like liquid flame. Red Dog’s eyes went wide a second before he ducked back outside, taking up his proper guard position.
The torch’s gleam strengthened as the man came closer.
Pitch held his breath, listening.
Ecan’s deathly quiet voice called, “Well, well, Red Dog, imagine finding you here.”
Pitch rose to his feet, but Dzoo stopped him short when she asked casually, “Tsauz said Ecan would die?”
He frowned. It took him a moment to understand; then he replied, “Poor little boy, he’s frightened half to death for his father.”
“Why didn’t Tsauz ask you to tell Ecan?”
“I—I think he was afraid.” Pitch shrugged in mimic. “How does a boy like that tell his father he’s going to die?”
“But if Ecan is going to die before he gets to Wasp Village, something must happen on the trail. Is he killed in the fighting?”
Pitch tried to decide what to say next. Outside, an unearthly silence had descended. Ecan’s ears must be trained on their voices. “Tsauz didn’t tell me, Dzoo.”
She lowered her voice and said, “Death has already wrapped its tendrils around Ecan. That cannot be changed. What of Tsauz? Does he survive?”
They continued talking for what seemed a long time, making up this and that.
“You’ve heard enough,” Ecan growled outside. “Get out of here, Red Dog. And don’t go spreading their poison, or I’ll slice your liver out of your body.”
Steps sounded as Red Dog left, followed shortly by the wavering of Ecan’s departing torch.
When the same two guards returned to their door, Pitch slumped to the floor, breathing hard. He whispered, “I don’t understand. What is—”
Dzoo clenched a fist to order silence. “You must be exhausted, Pitch. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
So. Even at a whisper, it was not safe to discuss Red Dog. Pitch’s thoughts twined around that fact.
Dzoo paced back and forth in front of the fire, clearly distressed. Firelight sparkled across her beaded dress.
Pitch curled up on the buffalohide, but his heart pounded like a drum at a ceremonial.
“So much at risk,” Dzoo whispered to herself.
“
T
hose were her exact words?” Kaska asked.
“Yes.”
She stood beside Sand Wasp outside her lodge in Salmon Village and gazed up at the glittering Star People who arced like a giant wheel around the cone of the mountain.
When she’d been notified that Sand Wasp had returned, she’d risen straight from her husband’s arms. She must look it. She was barefoot, and long red hair streamed over her cape. “Do you think Rain Bear can do this?”
Sand Wasp braced his hands on his hips. “With enough warriors, he and Evening Star can do anything, Matron.”
The soft hum of conversations radiated around Salmon Village. She could hear children crying and dogs barking. Old Woman Shuffling Feet snored loudly, as she had for as long as Kaska could remember.
It was so hard to imagine anything but this. Where would she go? What would she do? She had taken for granted that her two-summers-old daughter would grow up as she had: beloved and respected, with everyone knowing she would eventually be the matron of Salmon Village. She loathed the idea of telling little Sotic that instead of being one of the most powerful women in their world, she was going to spend the rest of her life in hiding, trying to scratch out a living with her bare hands. Assuming, that is, that a band of bloodthirsty
Raven People didn’t smack the brains out of her little skull first.
“How many warriors does Rain Bear have?” Kaska asked.
“Ten tens at most. Those are his trained warriors. In addition he has plenty of hunters, fishermen, old men, and boys. They’re mad enough to fight, but probably won’t stand when they see their best friend shot through the guts with a spear.” The long scar that slashed Sand Wasp’s forehead gleamed whitely when he turned to her. “If we add our warriors to his, however, we’ll even the odds. If not, he will be badly outnumbered.”
Wind Woman rushed up the slope, and the hem of Kaska’s cape flapped around her legs. Her toes were quickly turning to ice. “What is your advice, War Chief?”
“I cannot advise you, Matron, beyond telling you that joining an alliance of Raven People to make war on North Wind People makes me most uncomfortable.”
“A bit like sleeping with a rattlesnake, isn’t it?”
“Very much so, Matron.”
Kaska smiled wanly. On the night of Gispaw’s murder, her mother had told her,
The North Wind People are doomed, my daughter. Leave now. Take your family and run.
Kaska had, of course, vehemently disagreed.
That was two moons ago.
After her mother’s murder—and so many others—she had begun to fear that Mother may have been right. If the Raven People didn’t kill them, her people would murder each other just for spite.
But Evening Star has joined them. Could Naida’s daughter be making such a terrible mistake?
“Tell me how the Raven People reacted to Evening Star speaking in their council.”
“She won most of the doubters over, Matron.” He smiled in the darkness. “She might have had the support of a couple of the chiefs going in, but when it was over she had even won the respect, if not the hearts, of the dissidents.”
“How did she look, act?”
He gave her a piercing glance. “Like a great matron should.” A pause. “And I mean no disrespect, but if I were Astcat, let alone Old Woman North, I’d be sending every Wolf Tail I could find to cut her head off.”
“That persuasive, was she?”
“Yes, Matron. Even while arguing for Ecan’s life.”
Kaska took a deep breath. The future was looming before her. In a
stroke, she could be destroying her whole family. A loyal Kaska would be worth a great deal to the Council. Her heart ached for Astcat. Then she imagined Evening Star, haunted, hunted, fleeing desperately through the forest …
“How would I go about putting our warriors under Rain Bear’s command?”
“It won’t be easy. They think they’re supposed to fight Raven People, not help them.” Sand Wasp gave her a somber look. “If we do this, we will have to get word to Rain Bear soon. He must have time to plan how to use our warriors, and we must get our people into position without arousing the suspicions of the great chief, his Starwatcher, or White Stone.”
Kaska curled her toes to keep them warm. “I need you here to help me. Can you find someone else to deliver the message to Rain Bear?”
“I can, but it will cost a great deal, Matron. To assure secrecy, we must
buy
a messenger.”
“I will pay whatever is necessary. But choose well, Sand Wasp. What little tribute we have left is rapidly disappearing. Make him aware of the consequences if he betrays us.”
Sand Wasp stood quietly for a time, then whispered, “What will happen to us if Rain Bear wins, Matron?”
Kaska studied the wealth of sparkling Star People, wondering how her ancestors would answer that. They were probably all glaring down at her this instant, asking how one of Gispaw’s children could betray her own people. She prayed with all her heart that her mother could explain it to them.
“The North Wind People will be reborn as something else, Sand Wasp. But for good or ill, I cannot say.”
“Where will we go?”
“I suppose we will live at Wasp Village for a time. After that … who can say?”
Sand Wasp took a deep breath and whispered, “Know this, Matron. No matter what happens, I am your servant.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She lightly touched his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. Now, leave me. Find a messenger.”
Sand Wasp bowed and left.
Kaska’s gaze followed the steep mountain slope up to Fire Village. Even at night, the images of the gods painted on the palisade wall shimmered as though alive.
She walked back to her doorway. Just before she ducked through into her firelit lodge, she murmured,
“Forgive me, my daughter.”
T
he air cooled with the coming of night, and the savory tang of the fires and burning alder filled the forest. Rides-the-Wind drew it into his lungs as fingers of breeze stirred.
Rain Bear and four people—Tsauz, Dogrib, Talon, and Evening Star—sat around the great chief’s fire.
“If I can pull Matron Kaska’s forces into mine on the south”—Talon leaned over the map they had sketched into the charcoal-stained soil near the hearthstones—“it will create an opening to Cimmis’s inner circle. Assuming, that is, that Kaska’s warriors obey my commands.”
Dogrib pointed. “If you can create that opening, I’ll rush my forces into the center as quickly as I can.” He kept his voice low. “But by the time we get there, his strength will be closing around the North Wind People. No matter how well this goes, it’s going to be precarious. One wrong move, one delay, and the battle will fall into chaos, every warrior fighting for himself.”
Rain Bear said, “We can’t let that happen.”
Rides-the-Wind looked out at the ring of guards that encircled them. The warriors stood fifty paces away in the forest, or perched on boulders overlooking the ocean, but their ears were trained on the conversation going on around the fire.
“We must take the boy.” Talon shoved age-silvered hair away from his sharp eyes. “We may need him.”
“Too dangerous.” Evening Star straightened. “The boy should stay here. Tsauz is only valuable to us if he’s alive.”
“It’s no more dangerous for him than it will be for the rest of us, Matron,” Talon replied.
Dogrib braced his elbows on his knees. “Talon is right. If our situation grows desperate, we may need to hand Tsauz over to save people we care about.”
Tsauz’s blank eyes seemed to quiver in their sockets.
Rain Bear leaned sideways to whisper, “It’s all right. We’re just talking. We haven’t made any decisions.”
“He must go along,” Dogrib said. “What if we cannot free Pitch and Dzoo? Cimmis will certainly use them against us. Tsauz gives us a bargaining piece.”
“Cimmis will not bargain for the boy,” Evening Star said. “Tsauz will only be useful if we are bargaining with Ecan. Or have you forgotten Coyote’s visit not so long ago?”
Rain Bear nodded. “Tsauz is only valuable if we can wring concessions from Ecan. And who is to say he’s safer here? At least if he goes with us, he’ll be surrounded by friends. Here he’s easy prey for the next Wolf Tail who prowls through.”
Rides-the-Wind’s gaze turned to the pebble-strewn beach where the canoes were drawn up. There, on the landing, refugees walked the shore looking for crabs or anything else that was edible. Beyond the soft whisper of the surf, an odd stillness cloaked the camps.
He propped his walking stick and said, “Perhaps it would be helpful if you asked Tsauz what he thinks.”
Tsauz blinked.
Rain Bear’s brows lowered, but he said, “Tsauz, should we take you with us?”
Tsauz licked his lips. “If you leave me here, you will have to leave fifty warriors to guard me, won’t you?”
“Probably.”
He lowered his gaze to assure Rain Bear he meant no disrespect. “You
will
need those warriors in the battle.”
“I would rather not risk having you hurt, Tsauz. I promised I would make sure you got home, and I must try to do that.”
“I—I would rather go with you.”
Evening Star tilted her head. “Why is that?”
“Two reasons: If you do not take me, Cousin, my father will assume I am dead. Second, Coyote will find it harder to kill me when I’m with you.”
Dogrib nodded, and his pale hair glinted in the firelight. “Smart boy.”
Wind Woman gusted through the forest. Rides-the-Wind shivered and tugged at the deerhide over his shoulders.
Rain Bear exhaled hard. “There is one last thing we must plan for.”
“Yes?” Talon asked.
“Kaska may be working with Cimmis.”
Evening Star said, “No, she wouldn’t. She’s not—”
Rain Bear held up a hand to halt her words. “If she is, at a critical point in the battle, her warriors will turn on us.”
Dogrib nodded. “It would make a perfect trap.”
“I know Kaska. We almost grew up together. She wouldn’t do such a thing,” Evening Star insisted stubbornly.
“Wouldn’t she?” Dogrib asked, “Forgive me, Matron, but you have no idea what pressure the Council might have put upon her. What if Coyote drops in on her every so often to remind her how simple it would be to kill her family? Her warriors are another matter. Will they obey her when she orders them to fight against their chief?”
Evening Star stared at him for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes, you’re right, War Chief. We must plan for that eventuality.”
Everyone started talking at once, and Tsauz’s blind eyes turned to Rides-the-Wind.
He walked over and lowered himself to the mat beside the boy. “What is it, Tsauz?”
Tsauz felt for Rides-the-Wind’s ear and pulled it down to his mouth. He whispered, “Thunderbird told me something.”
When the boy didn’t continue, he asked, “What did he tell you?”
“That Rain Bear doesn’t know how to win.”
Rides-the-Wind pulled away and looked down at the boy. “Did Thunderbird say how?”
Tsauz swallowed anxiously. “No. I just have to be there. But you can’t tell Rain Bear I said so.”
“No, of course not,” Rides-the-Wind said.
In the distance, over Fire Mountain, thunder rumbled.
Tsauz spun around to look. “Did you hear that?”
The old Soul Keeper said, “I heard. What did Thunderbird say?”
“It’s beginning,” Tsauz whispered.
 
 
S
ister Moon had risen into the sky; her gleam flooded the forest, shimmering in the trees and outlining every dark boulder. Shadows fell across the forest floor like a tracery of black lace.
Rain Bear hunkered on a fallen log across from Red Dog and studied his old friend. The silver glow reflected from the thick coating of grime on the battered warrior’s face. He smelled dankly of sweat, and his gray-streaked black hair straggled around his face as though he hadn’t combed it in days.
Red Dog had pledged his loyalty to Rain Bear over a cycle ago. He’d been badly wounded in a fight with Talon. Dzoo had worked day and night to save his life. Since then Red Dog had periodically passed information about the happenings in Fire Village. Of course, Rain Bear wasn’t gullible enough to believe all of it. He knew for a fact that Red Dog played his own game for his own reasons, many of them no doubt unsavory, but he seemed to worship Dzoo. How many times had Rain Bear seen that look of longing in Red Dog’s eyes as he watched her from afar?
“Thank Raven it’s all downhill from Fire Village. I’ve never felt so tired.” Red Dog sighed. “Kaska needs instructions. What do you want her to do with her warriors?”
Rain Bear outlined the proposed plan of attack. When he finished, he asked, “Do you understand?”
“Yes. You want her people to fall on the rear of the North Wind warriors that are fighting Dogrib.”
A weight seemed to lift from Rain Bear’s shoulders.
“What have you got for warriors?”
Rain Bear chuckled. “I have a core of eight tens of capable men and a couple of women. The rest are an angry rabble. They’re the ones who are unpredictable.”
Red Dog said, “Tell me truly, old friend. Are you ready for this?”
Wind Woman swept the forest, and the firs creaked in the wind.
“I’d better be. We set out at dawn. Did you speak with Dzoo?”
“Yes.” Red Dog licked his chapped lips and winced as though they hurt. “Dzoo heard the slaves whispering. Cimmis will be dressed as an ordinary warrior—blue war shirt, hide cape. Spotting him is not going to be easy.”
“Will he walk with the Four Old Women?”
“No.” Red Dog looked bone weary. “He will march in the rear.”
Rain Bear frowned. “Why?”
“If you ask me, it’s so he can run away if it all goes wrong.”
“What does White Stone think of this?”
“He’s not happy. He growled to me that since the chief insists upon exposing himself, he can defend himself.”
Rain Bear plucked a twig from the ground and twirled it in his calloused fingers. If White Stone had gone so far as to tell his warriors the chief could defend himself … he was a very discontented war chief. Could Rain Bear use that?
Red Dog shot a curious look at Rain Bear. “He also told us to expect an attack around Gull Inlet. Anything to that?”
Rain Bear rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand. He hadn’t given Gull Inlet more than a passing thought.
“What’s at Gull Inlet?”
Red Dog drew the U-shaped inlet in the frost. “The trail turns along the sea cliff like this—and branches here. A wise war chief could use the cliffs to his advantage to box his enemies in and slaughter them like scurrying mice.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. How soon can you go back?”
Red Dog smoothed a hand over his dirty face. “Ecan knows I’m up to something. If he hasn’t already hired someone to kill me, it’s just a matter of time.”
Rain Bear steeled himself. “I must ask that you go back, my friend.”
Red Dog stared at the frosty ground. “Isn’t there someone else?”
“My message to Kaska must be delivered by someone she trusts. That leaves you or Sand Wasp.”
Red Dog’s burly shoulders sagged. He closed his eyes for a few moments. “I can’t guarantee I’ll make it. The first war parties headed down the mountain trail two days ago. If they catch me coming up from the coast, don’t assume I’ll be able to talk my way out of it. Do
not
count on Kaska receiving the message I’m carrying.”
Rain Bear gave Red Dog a sober look. “Do you have friends among the warriors who guard Kaska?”
“I did when I left. But if Ecan has gotten to them, told them I’m a traitor …”
An owl sailed over their heads, and its dark shadow flitted among the branches.
“One way or another, this is almost over. If you and I both live through this, I’ll find some way to reward you for the risks. I don’t know what or how I—”
“Forget it.” Red Dog grinned wearily. “I’m doing this for Dzoo. I wouldn’t be here but for her.” He shrugged self-consciously. “And, who knows, perhaps someday she will be ready to marry again.”
Rain Bear nodded in sudden understanding. Then he tugged
open the laces of his belt pouch and drew out a bag of seaweed cakes. “Here. Roe made these. She flavored them with smoked salmon and hazelnuts.”
“Thank you.” Red Dog stuffed them in his belt pouch and playfully punched Rain Bear’s shoulder.
“You know that if there were anyone else …”
“You don’t have to say it.”
BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)
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