Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

It Dreams in Me (11 page)

BOOK: It Dreams in Me

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Raider said, “Walking Bird tried to negotiate for the release of the hostages himself. He said that you, personally, High Matron, had authorized him to deal with the Loon Nation.”

Wink’s lips parted. “I did no such thing! The council authorized Sora, and only Sora, to negotiate with Blue Bow.”

Raider lifted a shoulder. “Walking Bird offered us great wealth to release the hostages. When Blue Bow refused and insisted upon seeing Chieftess Sora, Walking Bird flatly stated that she was not coming, and told Chief Blue Bow that he would have to deal with him or face the wrath of Water Hickory Clan.” Raider smoothed his fingers over the sides of his cup, tracing the designs. “I have always wondered how he knew the chieftess wasn’t coming. I thought, perhaps, you might wonder about that as well.”

Wink exchanged a look with Feather Dancer. The truth seemed to dawn on him before it did on her; he slowly rose to his feet, drew his stiletto from his belt, and headed for the door.

“Feather Dancer, wait!” she called.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around, and she could see his
muscles bulging through his warshirt. He’d started to shake with rage.

“Not now,” she ordered in a low voice. “Soon, I promise, but this is not the time.”

It took a few moments before he again took up his position by the door.

Raider gave Wink a small smile. “I hope that I have been helpful.”

“You have.” She stood up. “Now, for both our sakes, you should get out of Blackbird Town as soon as possible, but it will be easier under the cover of darkness. I recommend you remain here until nightfall. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, if I am not a burden.”

Wink gestured to Feather Dancer. “War Chief, make certain that our guest is
very
comfortable.”

Feather Dancer inclined his head. “Of course, Matron.”

Wink strode for the doorway with her heart pounding in her throat. Feather Dancer held aside the curtain for her. Their gazes barely touched before she ducked out into the warm sunlight … but it was enough.

In that brief moment, they sealed a bargain.

SORA SAT JUST OUTSIDE THE CAVE WHERE STRONGHEART had played as a child. Enormous sassafras trees and water oaks had grown up in front of the small opening, almost blocking it. As she leaned down to peer inside, a damp earthy fragrance breathed out. It was absolutely black inside. “Were you happy here?”

Strongheart stood four paces away, near the lakeshore, and seemed to be studying the late-afternoon light that lay like sheets of pounded copper between the distant cypresses.

“Sometimes.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water. “Toward the end, I only came here after Juggler had shouted at me.”

“It sounds as though he grew cranky in his old age.”

“No, it wasn’t age; it was me. I knew he wanted me to go home, but the more he tried to shove me away, the harder I clung to him like a bug to a sinking canoe.”

Her gaze drifted across the sunlit water to the opposite shore, and despair filtered through her. All day long she’d been
second-guessing herself. She hadn’t actually seen the man Flint spoke to; maybe it wasn’t Red Raven. There must be a thousand men in the world that fit Strongheart’s description. However, if it had been Red Raven the ramifications were staggering. “We should get back to camp.”

“Are you sure?”

She massaged her aching temples. “Maybe it wasn’t Red Raven. I should give Flint the chance to explain.”

Me and the pitying wives.

But at her first step, he held out a hand—a sort of weightless, noiseless gesture, almost ghostlike. “Before we return, I need to know about White Fawn,” he said.

“White Fawn?”

“You said you thought you may have killed her. I need to know why you think that.”

“I—I’m not sure I know why.”

A breath of wind caught his shirtsleeve and flapped it against his side like the tapping of fingers upon a door. “You did know. What changed your mind?”

She gestured awkwardly. “Too many pieces don’t fit.” “What are the pieces?”

“They’re glimpses … faces. Warriors scouting the forest … a beautiful woman being carried on a litter … I must have been there, or I wouldn’t know what she looked like, would I? And if I was there …”

I killed her.

“Tell me what she looked like?”

Sora heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, seeing the woman again. “She was young, maybe fifteen winters, with long black hair and a thin pointed face. Pretty.” She reached up to touch her own ears. “Her pounded copper earrings had been twisted into spirals. I—I was there. I must have been.”

Strongheart’s brown eyes had fixed on her, depthless and unblinking, as though seeing into the past.

“Being there,” he said, “doesn’t mean you killed her. It means you were there. Providing the woman you saw was White Fawn. What makes you think it was?”

“Well,” she said in a rush of breath, “who else could it have been?”

“Had you ever seen her before?”

“No.”

“Then it could have been any bridal procession.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No, her father said he saw me in the forest the night she died. I must have done it.”

Her emotion never touched the milky stillness of his calm. He extended a hand to the sandy shore. “Sit with me. Let’s start from the beginning.”

She walked over and dropped to the sand.

As Mother Sun descended into the western underworld, her gleam reflected from the lake with blinding intensity. She had to shield her eyes with her hand to watch Strongheart sit down cross-legged beside her.

“The beginning,” he said.

“I don’t know where the beginning is.” She suddenly felt very old and tired.

“Then let me start … . Flint told me that your party camped outside Eagle Flute Village. You told Feather Dancer you were going in with just one guard, Walking Bird. But you sent Walking Bird in alone and you vanished into the trees. Do you recall that?”

She shook her head. “Some of it. I did order Feather Dancer to camp just outside your village and told him I would be going in with only one guard, Walking Bird.”

“That was very dangerous. Why did you do it?”

“Walking Bird and I had discussed it the night before over dinner. We agreed that it would be a gesture of goodwill if just the two of us went in, alone and unarmed.”

“Did you walk away into the trees?”

Through a taut exhalation, she answered, “Strongheart, I don’t even remember walking away from our camp that morning.”

“Feather Dancer told me that when you returned five days later you told him a Loon warrior had tried to kill you the instant you set foot in Eagle Flute Village. To protect you, Walking Bird had leaped in front of you and taken the arrow himself. He was dead.”

“Feather Dancer wouldn’t lie about that. I just don’t recall saying it.”

He touched her hand. “Look at me.”

She lifted her head.

Gently, he said, “You and I both know that’s not how it happened. Walking Bird entered Eagle Flute Village alone and remained there for five days, trying to negotiate the release of the hostages. Chief Blue Bow considered it insulting to have to deal with a lowly warrior. He refused to negotiate the release with Walking Bird, preferring to wait for you. When you never arrived, Blue Bow ordered him killed.”

It had never occurred to her that Walking Bird would have tried to negotiate the release himself, but of course he would have. That was their mission, the reason they’d gone to Eagle Flute Village. With or without her, he knew what had to be done.

“If I didn’t go north to kill White Fawn, where was I? These are the pieces that
do
fit. Eagle Flute Village was two days away from the bridal procession. I must have gone north, killed her, and returned to our camp outside of Eagle Flute Village.”

He didn’t move, as though he feared any extraneous gestures
would distract her. “What did Flint tell you about the days before White Fawn’s murder? He and War Chief Skinner went out to meet the bridal procession. Then what happened?”

“He told me that by the time they arrived, White Fawn was dead. Her family thought she’d been poisoned. It was only later that he discovered I’d been missing when White Fawn was killed.”

“What made Flint believe you’d killed her?”

For a time, it hurt too much to speak. “He said he and Skinner weren’t sure which trail the bridal procession was going to take. The barbarian Lily People had been raiding the borders of their territory; the procession had to be careful. He and Skinner took two different trails, hoping to catch the procession and lead them to Big Cypress Spring, where they would have warriors waiting to escort them into Oak Leaf Village. They promised to meet up at Big Cypress Spring. Two days later, they did, but neither had seen the procession. Frantic, they began searching the lesser, little-used trails.”

“They found the procession.”

“Yes, at nightfall. Everyone was weeping and tearing at their clothing. White Fawn’s father said he thought he’d glimpsed a strange woman out in the trees the night his daughter died. He thought it was a Forest Spirit. Skinner said—and Flint agreed—that I was the only woman who would want White Fawn dead. That’s when he decided he had to find someone to help me. To Heal me.” A warm gust of wind blew her hair over her face.

Strongheart reached out and brushed it away so that he could see her eyes. “White Fawn’s father, then, did not say he’d seen you in the forest.”

Her face slackened. “Perhaps not then—but sometime I’m sure he told me that.”

“You met him?”

“Yes, in Blackbird Town. After Blue Bow was murdered and
I was blamed for it, Wink ordered a Healing Circle held for me. As part of the ritual, White Fawn’s father came to give me her wedding headdress.”

Strongheart gazed out at two mallards that paddled a short distance away. Their beautiful green crests shone in the fading sunlight.

“Where was Skinner?”

“What?” she asked.

“During the two days he and Flint were apart. Where was War Chief Skinner?”

She ran a hand through her hair. In the past finger of time it had grown damp with perspiration. “I asked Flint about that. I even suggested that Skinner might have killed White Fawn out of jealousy. Skinner loved Flint very much, and he’d lost Flint to a woman once before—to me. Flint told me it was impossible, that Skinner would never have hurt him that way.”

“They were lovers?”

“Yes. Flint was blindly devoted to Skinner.”

“Were they lovers while the two of you were married?” She nodded. “Flint told me that every time we argued he ran straight to Skinner for comfort. When he divorced me, Skinner rocked him in his arms for days while Flint wept. For two and half winters, they were happy together. Then Flint met White Fawn … and once again things became difficult between them.”

The mallards paddled closer, their red eyes on Strongheart and Sora. They murmured to each other, as though discussing the humans sitting on shore.

Strongheart said. “There’s one part of the story that has never made sense to me. Supposedly you walked away into the forest before you reached our village, but Chief Blue Bow had warriors everywhere. They surrounded your camp as thickly as
the trees.” He picked up an acorn that had fallen on the shore and seemed to be examining the shell’s intricate colors. “Blue Bow was furious. He ordered two warriors killed over the event.”

“Do you think the warriors let me go? Why would they do that?”

He put the acorn back on the shore and pressed it into the sand, planting it. As he covered the nut, he said, “I’m afraid that some of our warriors may have been working with Water Hickory Clan. Certainly our war chief, Grown Bear, was.” His gaze lifted to her. “You killed Grown Bear. Do you remember that?”

Her memories were totally blank. “I have no memory of that at all. Are you certain I did it?”

“Not absolutely certain.”

“Why would I have killed him?”

“You’d been attacked by the Midnight Fox. After your limbs stopped jerking, I had you taken to my house and placed two guards outside the door. Both of your guards were dead. I found Grown Bear with an ax buried in his head.” He piled more sand over the acorn. “Grown Bear was lying on the floor beside several packs of his most precious possessions. He was clearly packed to leave.”

“You mean … you think he’d planned to escape before the attack came?”

“Yes, which means he knew it was coming. He must have been working very closely with Water Hickory Clan.”

As that information soaked in, she wondered how many warriors Grown Bear had bribed to help him. Had Walking Bird led her right into their arms that fateful morning?

She shook her head. “None of this explains my memories of White Fawn.”

“No. Not yet.” Strongheart gracefully got to his feet and looked down at her. “But it will be dark soon. Do you wish to go back to camp?”

His expression told her that he hoped she would say no.

She looked across the lake. A tendril of smoke hovered over the treetops. Flint had lit the evening fire. Deep inside her, she knew she should go away with Strongheart. He had always believed Flint was a hindrance to her Healing, but …

She stood up. “I can’t believe he’s engaged in secret meetings with his clan.”

Strongheart looked at her without blinking, and she had the overwhelming urge to explain, or apologize, but when she started to, he held up a hand to stop her.

“You need to be with him. That’s enough for me.”

He took the trail that led around the lake and back to their camp.

BOOK: It Dreams in Me

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