People of the Earth (57 page)

 
          
 
"They put you up here in front?"
Snail Shell asked as he paused before Wind Runner.

 
          
 
"I guess I know the country."

 
          
 
"And you brought us here." Snail
Shell glanced around at the growing circle. "You've made a lot of friends
among the warriors. Many will listen to your words today. Make them as cunning
as you've been in the past and we'll be beyond your
Sideways
Mountains
in the turning of a moon."

 
          
 
"Sit." Wind Runner moved over to
share his robe. Snail Shell dropped instantly, well aware of how close he'd be
to the leaders. "What do you think?" Wind Runner asked. "Are you
ready to go south into the unknown? What if there are monsters . . . silver
bears as big as mountains, and Soul Stealers and other evil beasts?"

 
          
 
Snail Shell made a gesture of denial.
"Then we'll just have to kill them off and go on about our business. It's
the Hollow Flute that make me nervous. So many of them." He shook his
head. "And they're coming to stay. What we saw wasn't a summer migration
to hunting grounds. You could tell by the way they walked. You could feel the
determination . . . like Power in the air. I'll take a gamble on the
south."

 
          
 
Black Moon had been talking with others. Now
he called a greeting as Hot Fat walked into the circle. The sun shimmered off
the old Soul Flier's silvered hair. The two elders spoke quietly, heads
nodding.

 
          
 
"Ah! There's Hot Fat's
granddaughter." Snail Shell gigged Wind Runner in the ribs as
Aspen
knelt at the edge of the filling circle.
More than a few male eyes drifted in her direction.

 
          
 
"
Aspen
? She's nice." Wind Runner glanced back
at the elders, thoughts on other things. "We've talked a few times. She
often comes to listen when Hot Fat and I discuss things."

 
          
 
"Nice? She's exquisite." Snail Shell
grimaced. "I bet you don't know that she watches you."

 
          
 
"Hmm?"

 
          
 
"I said, she watches you. What's the
matter with you? You worried about talking in front of the whole clan?"

           
 
"No, I was just thinking. What did you
say?"

 
          
 
"I said,
Aspen
watches you. She ignores the rest and
watches you."

 
          
 
Wind Runner cocked his head. "Why? What
did I do?"

 
          
 
Snail Shell smacked himself in the forehead
with the palm of his hand. "You've got all the cunning of a rock. She's
interested in you. She's been a widow for months now and hasn't lifted a finger
to any of the outstanding warriors—like the one sitting next to you. You show
up and she's making fawn eyes. What happens? You could have the most beautiful
woman in the clan—and you don't care!"

 
          
 
Wind Runner laughed and glanced across at
Aspen
. She'd been inspecting him with that veiled
scrutiny he'd become used to. He couldn't deny her beauty. Large, dark eyes
stared out from a heart-shaped face. She had a delicate nose, and shapely brows
were framed by a wealth of glossy black hair that reached below her slim waist.

 
          
 
"I have another one to find. Best of luck
with
Aspen
."

 
          
 
"Your White Ash?"

 
          
 
"My White Ash." My? At the mention
of her, Wind Runner's memory stirred. He could see her laughing while that
teasing twinkle lit her flashing eyes. Her thick black hair caught the sunlight
with a bluish sheen. She walked in his daydreams, the leather of her dress
shifting with each move of her sleek body.

 
          
 
I love you . . . yes, I'll marry you . . . The
words echoed in his ears as if they'd just been uttered.

 
          
 
I'll come for you. Before the first snow
flies. She strolled toward him, a
sukry
smile on her
full lips, a dare in her lowered eyes. Her hips swayed with each balanced step.
Her arms swung
lissomely
, while her lips parted and
an excitement grew in her eyes.

 
          
 
A sharp elbow to the ribs punctured his
reverie.

 
          
 
"You want to listen to any of this?"
Snail Shell whispered into his ear.

 
          
 
Wind Runner shook his head to clear his
thoughts as the clan leader spoke. Hot Fat sat cross-legged beside Black Moon,
fingers laced in his lap, gaze on the trampled grass, listening intently.

           
 
On the other side of Black Moon sat One Man,
and just behind his right shoulder crouched Stone Fist. Both men were
travel-worn, their clothing splattered with mud and mottled by dust. Wind
Runner could see a wary fatigue in their hard eyes. They looked like dangerous
men who had more than their share of worry.

 
          
 
One Man twirled a stalk of grass in his
fingers. The lightning bolts tattooed in his cheeks puckered as he sucked in
his cheeks.

 
          
 
One Man and Stone Fist? When did they arrive?
Wind Runner had heard that they would be out scouting the Hollow Flute for at
least ten days—but then, all it took was a glance to tell they'd already found
something. And we're not going to like it.

 
          
 
"You've got a bad case of woman
poisoning," Snail Shell grunted. "She must be some woman."

 
          
 
Wind Runner glowered reprovingly at his friend
and turned his attention to Black Moon, who was saying, ". . .has come in.
I would hear him tell us everything he and Stone Fist learned."

 
          
 
One Man took a moment to scan the circle of
faces. One by one, he met the eyes of old friends, nodding now and then.
Finally his gaze met Wind Runner's, and the war leader nodded, appreciation in his
eyes. He cleared his throat and said, "Everything Wind Runner, Snail
Shell, and Blue Wind told us is true. Stone Fist and I kept to the uplands,
where we could travel without being observed. At night we moved down toward
their camps to see what we could overhear or learn. The entire Hollow Flute has
come to the Fat Beaver valley."

 
          
 
Whispers broke out among the people.

 
          
 
One Man gestured with sun-blackened hands.
"We waited in the dark and captured one of their women. We dragged her far
enough from the camp to be safe and talked to her. She told us this: The winter
north of the
Dangerous
River
was terrible. The
chinook
winds never came. The snow fell and drifted across the land, and then more snow
fell. It never stopped. Hollow Flute warriors found places where the buffalo
had been buried by drifts and others had climbed on their backs—only to be
buried, too. The plains to the north stink from rotting winterkill. The big
herds are gone. Only scattered animals can be found, and they have little meat
on their bones.

 
          
 
"But the Hollow Flute don't just flee
from the die-off. Farther north, the winter was worse. Along the
Bug
River
, the Wasp and the Snow Bird clans faced
starvation. Moose and caribou died—some frozen to death on their feet. The
northern herds of buffalo may all be dead. In such dire straits, the Snow Bird
and Wasp met and had a council. They decided that together they could push the
Hollow Flute out of their hunting grounds and save their own starving children.
They have taken the Hollow Flute lands around the
Dangerous
River
. They believed there would be better
hunting there this fall."

 
          
 
Black Moon shook his head in disbelief.
"All of the clans are coming south ?''

 
          
 
One Man shrugged. "This is what the
captive woman told us: The Wasp and Snow Bird warriors fell on the Hollow Flute
as the melt began. Behind them come the Green Stone clan, moving out of the
forest belt and into the
Bug
River
hunting grounds as the others leave. When
the Green Stones arrive there, they will find what others have already left—and
will probably follow them south, killing what they can, eating roots and
berries in the meantime. Summer is a good time. People don't starve. Fish can
be trapped in the rivers, birds and small game can be caught. But the clans
will see no big-game herds, and everyone's mind will be on the coming winter.
The only way left is south.

 
          
 
"We asked the woman if the Hollow Flute
would stay in the Fat Beaver valley and try to hold off the combined clans. She
said they would remain only as long as it took them to regain their strength—or
until the other clans appeared and began to raid them. The Hollow Flute are
tired of fighting. They have Sung too many of their people to Thunderbird.

 
          
 
"Then they saw the green fire in the sky
and took it as a sign to move even farther south. The Traders have told them
that the winters are not so harsh to the south. The deep cold isn't as bad.
People don't starve if the
chinook
winds don't come.
The woman told us the Hollow Flute are desperate, that they won't watch their
families starve again."

 
          
 
The people's whispering grew louder. However
the council ended, their expectations would be dire.

 
          
 
"Stone Fist and I heard those
words," One Man added. “We also heard the desperation beneath the words.
We heard the woman's soul speaking to us. I say this, my people: The Hollow
Flute will not be turned back, and even if they could be, behind them come the
united clans of the Snow Bird and the Wasp, and behind them, the Green
Stone."

 
          
 
Black Stone twitched as if he shivered.
"One Man, you are our greatest warrior. You've always spoken with prudence
and honesty. We all respect your counsel. What do you suggest we do?"

 
          
 
One Man took a deep breath and his shoulders
sagged. "Once I would have said that the Black Point could drive them
back. I would have been a foolish young man who had never seen the look in the
eyes of the Hollow Flute. That would have been the advice of a man who had
never seen a clan bled dry of its warriors the way Wind Runner will tell you
the White Clay have been. Where are the White Clay now? According to Wind
Runner's report, they've been nearly destroyed, reduced to only one camp,
harried by the Wolf People, pushed south all the way to the Sideways
Mountains—mountains we haven't even seen yet."

 
          
 
"And this woman you captured?" Black
Moon asked.

 
          
 
Stone Fist spoke up from his place behind One
Man. “We took her with us until we crossed the Fat Beaver River. During that
time she told us about how she had wintered on the
Dangerous
River
. When she spoke, it touched our hearts. Her
mother and father, her two children—her only children—froze to death. We let
her go and wished her well."

 
          
 
Fire Rabbit, the young warrior who had fought
so bravely in the ambush of the Broken Stones, stood and waited for Black Moon
to recognize-him. Then he cleared his throat and looked around. “If we are
going to hold the Fat Beaver hunting grounds, we will need all of our courage.
I didn't approve of coming here in the first place. Now I concede that it might
not have been a mistake. Had the Hollow Flute fallen upon us while we were
scattered, they would have driven us from the Fat Beaver and killed many of our
warriors. I think that with our combined strength, we can drive the Hollow
Flute back. They're weakened. A bold raid now could break them the way we broke
the White Clay three years ago on that very river. If we can scatter them, send
them fleeing north, perhaps their stories will make the Snow Bird and Wasp
think twice before they try us."