People - People of the Wolf Part 51

He stiffened, remembering how the evening light had shone off the white hair where he'd unrolled it on the rocks. He shifted nervously. What if someone came along and .. . No, that was unthinkable!

Seeing his indecision, she added softly, "Sure, you can chase me down.

Finally corner me, catch me off guard, but you can't while you carry that Hide."

He considered it--too true. Ice Fire's words haunted him. "Are you strong enough to carry the Hide? The Power it holds will destroy a man who shirks his responsibilities to it. " Annoyance ate at his resolve.

The answer came.

He smiled. "For now, the Hide is enough. With it, all things will come .. . including you."

"To plant your seed in my belly, you'll have to keep me tied like a dog.

But, remember, you, too, must sleep sometime --be less than alert. And when you do, I'll drive a dart through your cursed body. By the Soul Eaters of the Long Dark, I swear. You hear?"

He nodded, turning on his heel. What were the Soul Eaters of the Long Dark against the Power of the White Hide?

"You'll be mine," he called over his shoulder as he trotted down the slope toward the gleaming Hide, now partially covered with snow. "I've seen it!"

Chapter 60.

On the other side of the Big Ice, the mountains rose, some of the peaks to the far north familiar. The range extending to the south, however, gleamed in unknown patterns. Here, in the broken foothills, patches of spruce mixed with open gra.s.sy meadows, amber now in fall color.

Overhead, the last flocks of geese winged southward in irregular V's, their voices haunting as they called among themselves.

Behind, the wind blew chill off the Big Ice. Storm clouds continued to pile up along the northern horizon while the valley of the Big River hooked below the uplands the People now hunted. Such a rich land, this.

A feeling of freedom spread among them as they crafted new shelters, tailored new clothing, and awaited the coming of the Long Dark. The vast gra.s.sy valleys to the south beckoned, moving splotches of game visible from the heights.

The trap had been built along a game trail, hidden deep in the shadows of the trees. Broken Branch had picked the place, turning on her swollen ankles, mouth working as her eyes studied the spot. She'd poked at the soil with her digging stick and grinned.

Green Water climbed out of the pit, a b.l.o.o.d.y quarter of elk over her shoulder. Under the weight, her steps careened, the leg bone eating into her shoulder. She stumbled to drop the heavy weight onto a mat of spruce needles, then blew an exasperated breath. A strange animal, this. The antlers were a lot like those of the caribou, only the hooves were much smaller, the rump brown, and no white beard hung under the animal's neck. Other strange animals had fallen to her pits. Another deer, smaller, with forked antlers, abounded. Other than that, no sign of horse could be found. Musk ox and mammoth and long-horned buffalo were everywhere, though--and this interesting brown deer, which had a sweet and delicately flavored meat.

"I could almost wish this one had gotten away," Broken Branch muttered as she looked up from the bottom of the hole. "He almost did," Green Water reminded her, images of the brown deer's incredible agility lingering. When it fell through the trap she'd carefully dug, the big animal had whirled despite a broken front leg and yelped as she approached. In a desperate leap, it had cleared the pit, landed on the broken leg and tumbled back in. By the time Green Water closed, the animal had leapt again, locking its good front leg along with one rear.

While it teetered at the edge of the pit, clawing with the other back leg, she'd driven a dart deeply into its side, sending it crashing once more into the hole. This time the large span of shiny antlers had caught, breaking the animal's neck.

"So much bigger than caribou!" Broken Branch grinned up from the bottom.

"Fat meat and good game! Ha-heeee! Wolf Dream did us good!"

Green Water's baby cooed and gurgled in agreement where it swayed in the breeze, dangling in a hide bag from a spruce limb. Green Water smiled at the child, bending over to pluck up some of the snow and scrub the caked blood from her fingers.

"People'll be coming through the ice soon." Broken Branch's lips spread in a wide grin to expose her toothless gums, the wrinkles of her face rearranging into different patterns. Green Water nodded. "Water's down in the Big River. Curlew Song was down there yesterday."Broken Branch's ancient fingers gripped a heavy bifacial chopper.

Despite the cramped s.p.a.ce, she skillfully smashed the ribs loose from the spine and sternum, exposed now that they'd removed the front and rear quarters. With a flake from her pouch, she sliced through the diaphragm and grunted, lifting the heavy ribs up to Green Water.

"Lot of meat here. Not a mammoth, by any means .. . but enough to last a family a full turning of the moon." Green Water carried the flopping ribs to the pile, thankful the flies had frozen out.

"I wonder who Wolf Dreamer will bring. Buffalo Back's clan? All of them?" She shook her head. "Hard to think about what's happening on the other side of the ice when we've done so well here." She severed the heart sac, lifting the thick organ out, flicking bone slivers off the meat as she sucked the blood from the wide aorta, pumping the muscle to squirt the warm fluid into her mouth.

Smacking her lips, she handed it to Green Water, bending to cut out the lungs and liver.

"My One Who Cries will be coming home." Green Water sighed longingly, reaching down for the thick liver, taking time to bite a chunk from the rich organ, chewing and taking yet another bite, enjoying the taste of the new creature.

Broken Branch turned the stomach inside out, inspecting the rough surface. "It'll do for a boiling bag."

"When do you think they'll start through the hole?"

Broken Branch wiped a blood-encrusted hand across her wrinkled forehead, squinting up at the slant of sunlight. "Maybe a week. We'd better have lots of food stored--just in case all the clans come at once."

"You think they will?" Green Water asked, worried. They'd laid in a lot of food, but not that much.

Broken Branch turned her withered face up. Sunlight gilded her wrinkles.

"Depends on how bad the pressure from the Others is. And how many believe the Wolf Dream."

The band of the People gathered on the rocky hillside above Heron's hot pool, their bodies silhouetted against the wavering flames of the Monster Children's War. A few stars peeked out above the southern horizon, sparkling in the frigid night air. "I know many of you fear the ice." Wolf Dreamer turned, hands raised. "Don't worry. I've Dreamed the ghosts away. Tomorrow you won't even hear a groan from them."

Who's he trying to kid! One Who Cries wondered to himself. He stared curiously at Wolf Dreamer, uncomfortable with the detached gleam in the young man's eyes. He'd lost weight, and more sooty smudges than usual lined his face. He'd gone to Dreaming constantly, only appearing for brief moments when he sensed it necessary to rea.s.sure his people. And why'd Singing Wolf and Dancing Fox have to run off and leave me here to keep things going? Why is it always me? I hate messing around with spirit stuff!

"There'll be no ghosts?" Four Teeth wondered aloud."The Big Ice is nothing more than illusion." Wolf Dreamer smiled serenely.

Four Teeth c.o.c.ked his head, squinting uneasily at people around him.

"What's he mean by that? Illusion?"

Wolf Dreamer ignored the question. "One Who Cries tells me the water has ceased to run. Gather your things."

"You will protect us?" Buffalo Back called.

"My soul is yours. We walk together in One." Wolf Dreamer smiled radiantly and walked back down the slope to Heron's shelter.

"Walk together in One?" Buffalo Back asked, perplexed. "What's he talking about?" The People looked anxiously back and forth, eyes veiled.

One Who Cries had seen that look before--among a herd of caribou about to bolt as they sensed a hunter's keen eyes upon them.

One Who Cries--without thinking--called out, "Use your heads. The man's a Dreamer. He means we go through one hole together." At least, I hope that's what he meant. "I've been through there. Dancing Fox came through alone--with no light. Wolf Dreamer knows what he's doing. He's Dreamed us safely through already."

"What's he going to do now?"

One Who Cries shrugged irritably. "Talk to the ghosts, maybe. Tell them we're coming and to leave us alone."

He looked around, suddenly aware he'd become the total center of attention. For a half second, he stood there, speechless, undone by their shining eyes. He could see the fear that lay hidden behind set mouths, worry grating at the bottoms of their hearts. They wanted to believe--desperately.

One Who Cries caught himself before he lowered his eyes. Instead he looked back, saying the first thing that came to his staggered mind.

"I've been through to the new land. The animals are fat and unafraid!

Not only that, but we've got a Dreamer to call them in. There won't be any Others there. We can live in peace, see what's to the south beyond the ice."

"But we have to walk under the ice for two days?" Four Teeth shook his head.

"It's not that bad! We've all had to walk in the depths of the Long Dark. There's not much difference. My beloved Green Water carried my little son through. Curlew Song walked with Jumping Hare. Even Old Broken Branch went through." He paused, frowning. In a wry voice he added, "Well, no wonder the ghosts didn't want to mess with us."

A chuckle of laughter broke the dam of reservations.

A warmth spread through his breast as he looked at them. His people, they looked back, a trace of the old humor in their eyes. "Sure, it's a scary place under the ice," he agreed honestly. "But we're safe. I've seen the truth of the Wolf Dream." He waved his hands. "Oh, I know, I've sat around the fires with you, heard the stories. What if this? What ifthat? Well, the time's come to go. There's nothing here for us anymore."

Several looked up at him with beaming hopeful faces, nodding, eyes alight. As suddenly, he swallowed hard, realizing what he'd done, what he'd given them of himself.

"One," he whispered under his breath, taken aback. Like Wolf Dreamer says, I've given them something of my soul. He tried to feel around, to see if any of him was missing, but he seemed whole, curiously satisfied--even if their staring eyes left him shy and embarra.s.sed. Four Teeth nodded agreement as he stepped over next to One Who Cries. "I've heard the Dreamer. I've heard One Who Cries, Singing Wolf, and Dancing Fox. If we have even a little bit of their courage and honor, no harm will come to us."

One Who Cries grinned sheepishly. "If a coward like me can make it through just think how well the rest of you will do!"

The next morning, they wound their way out of Heron's valley, leaving behind trampled snow, the refuse of a year's occupation, charred fire pits--and the bones of the dead. One Who Cries stood on the rim of the valley, looking back. The stinking geyser billowed toward the snow-gray sky in a puffy cloud. Around the spots where the shelters had been, rings of brown from discarded sc.r.a.ps and chipped stone flakes remained.

The willows had been systematically trimmed out, their roots riding high where they'd been tied to packs, the sweet bark eaten while the outer material had been woven into rope and string. The People used all of the willow.

We are so few. Where once the People would have streamed by for hours, now we are this pitiful remnant. Look at us. Our clothing is worn, torn, polished thin from use. The children walk on legs like spindles. No face is without lines traced by pain and loss. Is this what we 'we become ?

He shook his head.

Tired, ragged, they walked southeast to the Big River, a line of bobbing forms. Together they followed the Dream. But what of the Dreamer? A gnawing misgiving ate at the base of his heart. Every time he thought he'd come to know the man Runs In Light had become, he changed, became someone different. Each time the sensation was more and more disquieting. I feel like I lose more of my old friend every moment.

He looked ahead, seeing that thin figure walking with a straight back, head held high. Though he couldn't see his eyes from where he stood, he knew what they looked like: distant, shining with an eerie illumination.

One Who Cries sighed. "Well, he's led us this far. The end is almost come." He shook his head, muttering softly under his breath. As the last of the women pa.s.sed, he took one final look at Heron's valley before following in the steps of his tattered, weary people.

Everyone tried to pack in around the outskirts of the council. Ice Fire found mild amus.e.m.e.nt in their jostling. Beyond the bobbing heads and the whispers back and forth behind secretive hands, he could see the marshy lake they'd just skirted. The ice still couldn't be trusted to bear a man's weight--so they'd gone the long tedious way around through the rocks. Behind him, to the south, the hills of the Enemy rose. There, in the final holdings of the Enemy, the web would be drawn tight. There, it would all be played out.

A fitful burst of wind harried them as he tried to bring his thoughtsback to the council at hand. Strange developments, these, but what did they mean? He looked up to see the confusion in Broken Shaft's face.

"We were dead. They caught us completely by surprise." Broken Shaft lifted his arms helplessly. "I was in the lead. The trail ran around this big boulder and they were standing there, up above us, with darts and big rocks to throw down. Like a mammoth in a gully, we couldn't do anything." "For one, I was ready to die," Smoke continued. "I nocked a dart in my atlatl and glared up, trying to judge the angle, and someone yelled, "Stop!" "

"It was a woman." Broken Shaft shifted nervously, looking around at the hard-faced men who stared back at him. "A beautiful woman." He scuffed the toe of his long boot in the snow. "She held up both hands and spoke.

I suppose if it had been a man, I'd have darted him just like that. But a woman? A warrior doesn't expect a woman to stop a fight. Not when we were in such bad position."

"And what did she say?" Ice Fire frowned, feeling the pull of the south.

"She said to go back," Smoke told them, looking around. "She said that the People were tired of warring. That too much killing had gone on. She said that we should leave all but one dart on the ground and keep that one for protection from bears. We should take our lives which the People gave to us, and to come and tell our elders that our lives were given back for some of the ones they'd taken in war."

Whispers broke out among the listeners. Ice Fire considered it, a flicker of hope born in his breast.

Broken Shaft shook his head uneasily. "It's a strange thing. I've never heard of an Enemy not killing. I don't understand this."

"They want peace."

"Peace?" roared Red Flint. "They've stolen the White Hide and they want peace? They've cut apart our young men, raped and carried off our young women? And they want peace?"

"The man, Raven Hunter, stole our White Hide," Ice Fire reminded. To Smoke he asked, "Did she say anything about the White Hide?"

He shook his head, looking nervously around.

"Cowards," Red Flint growled, spitting angrily at the smoldering fire.

"You could have killed them, wiped them out for--"

"We'd have died!" Broken Shaft protested, hearing surly mutterings among the watching warriors. "Dead, we do no good to the people."

"Cowards do no honor to the clan!" Red Flint sneered.

"Enough." Ice Fire turned, meeting the hot eyes of the warriors. Behind him, Broken Shaft, Smoke, and Black Claw stood defiantly, glaring back.

"Singer?" Broken Shaft challenged in a strained voice, his handsome face twisted. "Don't call us--"

"For my own part," Ice Fire softly interrupted, "I can't remember ever mistaking wisdom for cowardice." One of the warriors behind him gruntedaffirmation while the accusers shifted their glances.

Red Flint hissed something under his breath, violence in his eyes as he stared at the warriors.

A wound opened in Ice Fire's heart as he watched his old friend's face contort in rage. The other warriors shifted, some looking nervously at Red Flint, some chewing their lips as they glanced anxiously at Ice Fire.

Broken Shaft blinked and lowered his eyes, exhaling heavily. "I'm sorry, Elder. I didn't know our actions would--"

"It's the theft of the White Hide," Ice Fire decided in a voice loud enough to be heard by all. "We're losing our tempers, not thinking clearly."

Broken Shaft and his friends fidgeted nervously--unsure of themselves.

Across the lake, a lone goose fluttered her wings as she struggled to walk on the thin ice.

"I think ..." Ice Fire hesitated, a deep frown incising his brow. Then he looked up at Broken Shaft. The young warrior searched his face, silently seeking guidance.

"Most Respected Elder, tell me what's right? I'll do whatever --"

"You already know," he comforted, coming to a decision, patting the man's shoulder affectionately. "You left when the Enemy woman gave you your life. You speak correctly when you say you're worth more to the clan alive than dead."

"Yes, Elder," the warrior muttered gratefully.

"I don't like dealing with the Enemy," Red Flint insisted. "Taking anything from them--even a life--makes me feel shamed!"

"Remember that we've hunted them, pushed them, driven them from the last of their lands over the years. Hmm? Put yourselves in their place. Would you have spared the lives of Smoke, Broken Shaft, and Black Claw?"