The Storyteller Trilogy (126 page)

The animal was smart enough to realize that the dog could not come after it, and took several light steps toward them, as if in a dare, before it turned and disappeared into the trees. Aqamdax began to laugh. With a whine, Snow Hawk sat down, raised her nose to the sky and howled.

“A good welcome for us,” Aqamdax said, and guided Snow Hawk to where she would set her shelter. She cleared away the loose snow, then used the butt end of a fallen branch to break through the crust until she reached bare ground. She set up her tent like a lean-to and made a fire at the open side with the kindling she carried under her parka. Then she gathered branches and split them with her knife to expose their dry centers, and fed them to the fire. She untied a bundle of dried meat from the travois, rubbed the meat with snow and set it near the fire to warm.

Snow Hawk lay down beside her, her head on her paws.

“We will live here,” Aqamdax said. “There are fish in the lake and animals in the woods.” She gave the dog a share of the meat, took a piece for herself. She let the smoke flavor carry her back to the days of their caribou hunt. In her mind, she saw Chakliux’s face, then had to fight against the tears that suddenly burned her eyes.

She patted the small mound of her belly and spoke to the baby she cradled under her heart. “Have I told you the story about whales and their villages under the sea?” she asked.

Snow Hawk whined, and Aqamdax said, “The dog wants to hear it.” Then Aqamdax pushed away her worries with the words she had learned long ago.

THE COUSIN RIVER VILLAGE

Three days after Night Man had left the village, Ligige’ returned alone. Yaa, hearing someone in the entrance tunnel of the lodge, pulled aside the doorflap. When she saw Ligige’, Yaa shouted out her joy and clasped the old woman in a hug that nearly knocked Ligige’ down.

“Child! Enough!” Ligige’ said.

Her voice sounded strange, and Yaa drew back, looked into Ligige’’s face. She caught her breath at the sight of Ligige’’s blackened eyes and swollen nose.

“Aunt, what happened to you?” Yaa asked.

Ligige’ shook her head. “A branch fell,” she said. “I was lucky. It might have done worse. What is a nose for an old woman like me? Even if it stays like this, it will not cost me a husband.”

Yaa was not sure if Ligige’’s words were intended as a joke or if she was serious, so rather than risk laughing, she asked, “Do you want me to get your dog’s packs? Do you need me to feed him?”

“The dog is dead,” Ligige’ said.

Her voice broke, and for a moment Yaa thought Ligige’ might begin to cry, but then the old woman set a frown on her face and crawled past her into the lodge.

“The baby is with Yellow Bird,” Yaa said.

“It is not the baby I worry about,” Ligige’ snapped. “Where are your brother and Cries-loud?”

“Out getting wood.”

Ligige’ stared at her, eyebrows raised. “You will be a good mother someday,” she finally said. “Help me with my parka and roll out my bedding mats. Then go get Take More and Dii. Bring Sok as well. I need to talk to them.”

“Did you see Aqamdax?” Yaa asked as she hung up Ligige’’s parka.

“I saw her.”

“She is well?”

“She is well.”

“And Night Man?”

“Aaa, child,” Ligige’ said, “you ask too many questions.” She smoothed a blanket over her bedding mats and lay down.

Yaa went first to Sok, found him alone in Star’s lodge, the hearth fire sputtering without enough wood to make it burn well. The bottom of the boiling bag was charred, the smell of burnt caribou hide thick in the air. She went out into the entrance tunnel—at least he had stacked up a good supply of wood—and brought back several sticks to feed the fire. Then she studied the boiling bag, considering what she could do.

It was too badly damaged for use, she decided, the hide too weakened to hold anything. She sorted through the supplies on the women’s side of the lodge and found a new boiling bag, removed the ruined one and hung the new bag from the tripod.

Sok had lifted his head when she entered the lodge, but he said nothing to her, and as she worked, he continued to smooth a spear shaft, his eyes staring through her as though she were not there.

“It’s better to keep the bag away from the fire,” Yaa told him. “Just put hot rocks into it. It will last longer. But if you do set it over the hearth, you have to keep water in it, as high as the flames, or the bag will burn.”

Sok suddenly seemed to notice her. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes with the balls of his thumbs.

“Ligige’ is back,” Yaa said to him.

She thought he almost smiled.

“She is alone, and her nose is broken.” Yaa raised a hand to finger her own nose, short, but humped as her father’s had been. She had admired her father’s nose, was glad she had one like it, and wondered if hers would grow as large as his had been. “Her dog is dead.”

Sok looked at Yaa as though he could not quite understand what she said.

“She went to bed, but she wants to talk to you,” Yaa told him.

“Now?”

Yaa shrugged. “I think so. I have to get Take More and Dii. Then I can come back and make some soup for you, unless Dii wants me to stay with Long Eyes.”

“No,” he told her. “I eat and sleep at the hunters’ lodge. I am here only a part of each day.”

His words were slow, as though he thought about each one before saying it, but Yaa was not surprised. The old women said that he had only half his spirit since Snow-in-her-hair had died, and now with Chakliux dead… Yaa felt tears gather in her throat, and she cleared them away so they would not choke her.

She had lost many people in her life. First her father, then her mother, now Aqamdax and Chakliux. But no matter how many people died, she would not lose her spirit like Sok had. Not even part of it. She would stay strong. Otherwise, who would take care of Ghaden and Ligige? Who would go on walks with Cries-loud and listen to him when he talked about his worries and dreams?

She left Sok, found Take More, then went to Dii’s lodge. Dii met her in the entrance tunnel.

“Sok already came and told me,” Dii said. “Will you stay with Long Eyes?”

Yaa crawled into Dii’s lodge. The place was filled with the warm smell of meat and was cheerful with light from the hearth fire. Long Eyes sat as she usually did in a nest of bedding furs, a string of sinew dangling from her fingers. The caribou hide of her leggings was bare and dark over one thigh where she rubbed the sinew to twist it.

Yaa took off her parka and hung it from a peg, greeted Long Eyes, then teased away several strands of sinew from the chunk lying at Long Eyes’s side. Yaa began to rub the strands between her palms, and thought of how well she had done, keeping Ligige’’s lodge while Ligige’ was away.

The first day, she had burned some meat, but she had made the boys eat it anyway. She had kept the fire going and shook out the bedding furs, had almost finished a pair of boots for Ghaden.

Long Eyes began to mutter, a familiar rhythm that Yaa could not quite place. A song, she decided, something she should know. It battered at her mind like a riddle until she pushed it away with thoughts of Cries-loud.

I will be a good wife to him, she told herself, and as she worked, she began to smile.

“He killed my dog,” Ligige’ said, “and he would have killed Aqamdax. You think I could let him live?”

Sok stared at her. In his surprise, he could think of no response, but he realized that Ligige’ had mistaken his silence for accusation.

“Aunt,” he finally said, “you did what had to be done. I will keep his widow’s cache full.”

He nodded at Dii. Her face was pale, her eyes large.

“Where is the body?” Take More asked. Then, before Ligige’ could answer, he said, “How did you kill him?”

“The body is there at the hunters’ spring. I burned it in Aqamdax’s shelter. Perhaps someone can go and get the bones.”

“I will get them,” Sok said. “Tomorrow, I will go, in the morning.”

“Aqamdax?” Dii asked.

“I told her to travel to the Grandfather Lake,” Ligige’ said, “but who can say if she did?”

“Who can say if she is alive?” Take More said.

Ligige’ hissed her disgust. “Aqamdax is alive!” she spat out.

“She needs to come back to this village,” said Sok.

Dii shook her head. “Many of the old women still think she was the one who killed—”

“They are fools, those old women,” Sok told her.

“It is easier for them to believe Aqamdax is the killer since she is Sea Hunter,” said Dii, “than to believe someone from this village did it.”

They spoke together for a long time, until finally Take More decided to go to the hunters’ lodge and tell whoever was there what had happened to Night Man. “So,” he said to Ligige’ as he was leaving, “you did not yet tell us how you killed him.”

“You see what he did to me,” she said, raising her hands to her face. “Then he killed my dog.” She shook her head at the memory. “I killed him with his own spear. That is how I killed him. A spear in his neck.” Then she settled herself into her bedding furs. “Now go away,” she said, “and let me sleep.”

Ligige’ slept through the day and into the night. She awoke to a sound at her lodge door, shook herself awake. Who was fool enough to come here in the night? By now the whole village knew what had happened. She was an old woman. Did they think she could live without sleep?

Surely there was no one who would seek revenge for Night Man’s death. But the thought chilled her bones, and she wrapped herself in a hare fur robe, took her walking stick and used it to push aside the inner doorflap.

“Who is it?” she called.

She saw from the corners of her eyes that all three of the children were awake. Ghaden and Cries-loud had already left their beds, and Biter was crouched at Ghaden’s feet, growling.

Ligige’ cried out, dropped the stick, and rushed into the entrance tunnel.

“Aqamdax, it has to be,” Yaa said and almost knocked the boys down as she ran across the lodge. Suddenly she was backing away, eyes huge, hands over her mouth.

As Ghaden turned to grab a weapon, Cries-loud shouted, “Chakliux!”

Then all three children were in Chakliux’s arms, and he was smiling, in spite of the sorrow in his eyes.

“My brother,” he said softly, mouthing the words as he looked down at Cries-loud, the boy with his head on Chakliux’s shoulder.

“Sleeping in the hunters’ lodge,” Ligige’ told him.

Chakliux’s mouth dropped open. “He came back? He came back here…to the village?” He shouted out in laughter. “He is not hurt? He is…”

“He is sad,” Ligige’ said, “and worn out from his grieving, but when he sees you…”

Her words caught on a sob, and Yaa said to Chakliux, “Sok thought you were dead. He came and told everyone—” She stopped and, with her eyes suddenly wide, asked, “You aren’t dead, are you, Chakliux?”

“I am alive, Yaa,” he said quietly. Then he rubbed a hand over his face, and Ligige’ saw how tired he was.

“I have food,” she said, and scurried toward the hearth.

“No,” said Chakliux, “I must go to my wives. I stopped at Aqamdax’s lodge, but she was not there. I thought perhaps she had decided to live here with you while I was gone. I did not go yet to Star, but—” He saw the look in Ligige’’s eyes, stopped. “Aunt,” he said softly, “where are my wives?”

THE NEAR RIVER VILLAGE

K
’OS STOOD AT THE
ridge that ringed the Near River Village and looked down on the well-made lodges. Woodpiles were stacked high, and banks of snow pressed against the lodge covers to protect against winter winds.

She heard a rill of laughter, and three boys ran out from between two caches, each brandishing a stick. Their game carried them through the village and earned them a scolding from one of the grandmothers at the cooking hearths. K’os smiled. How good to return to this place, not as Gull Beak’s slave but as River Ice Dancer’s widow. Silently she counted the lodges: five handfuls, another five handfuls; fifty, at least. And how many warriors in each? One, two? Sometimes more.

The walk had been difficult. Her lips had split and bled in the cold; her fingers were so bent and swollen that she could hardly fasten the travois straps. She needed a warm fire and some goosefoot and willow bark tea.

She called the dogs forward and led them to the elders’ lodge. The battle between the Near River and Cousin People had cost almost all the old men in this village their lives. Only Sun Caller, that stutterer, and Fox Barking had survived, and, of course, Giving Meat, but his mind was less than that of a child. Surely by now Dii had killed Fox Barking, and probably been killed in return by the Near Rivers. Pity. She had been an interesting companion.

K’os hoped that the middle-aged hunters of the village had taken their places as elders. Of those men, there were only a handful she had not pleasured when she was a slave. Wolf Head, River Ice Dancer’s father, was one she had not yet taken to her bed, but he was her best chance for revenge. In his sorrow, she would win him to her cause. They would avenge River Ice Dancer’s death at the Four Rivers Village, then, with their success giving them strength, would go and finish off the Cousin People.

K’os removed her snowshoes, tied them on the travois, and stepped into the entrance tunnel. She brushed the snow from her parka and leggings, pushed back her hood and used her walking stick to scratch at the inner door. She recognized Sun Caller’s voice as he stuttered out a welcome.

K’os had spent much time considering a greeting that would establish her place in the village and put thoughts of revenge into the minds of the Near Rivers, but when she entered the lodge, she stood with her mouth open, her fine words forgotten. Ringing the hearth fire, each sitting in a place of honor, were the old women of the village—Vole and Blue Flower, Lazy Snow and Three Baskets. Two others sat on either side of Giving Meat, feeding him as though he were a child, one wiping his chin with a scrap of grass matting. Beside them was Sun Caller.

He nodded at her, opened his mouth to speak but could not get his first word past his tongue. He lifted his chin toward the woman at the back of the fire, the place given the chief elder. The hearth smoke was a cloud that blocked K’os’s vision, and so she took a step to the side, then stopped in disbelief. The chief elder was Gull Beak.