Roe started up the firelit trail, and Pitch called, “Wait, Roe. I’m coming.” He clutched his wounded arm to his chest and hurried to catch her.
Rain Bear and Dogrib spoke for a time longer; then Dogrib headed for his lodge. Rain Bear walked over and crouched opposite Evening Star. In the firelight, she could see the lines that pulled tight at the corners of his dark eyes. He held his hands out to the flames.
“How is the boy?” he asked.
“He’ll be all right. Won’t you, Tsauz?”
Rain Bear chewed his lower lip, fatigue reflected in his face.
Rides-the-Wind appeared out of the darkness and leaned against the dark smoky trunk of a fir. He had the hood of his tattered cape pulled up, but his eyes gleamed in the shadows.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” Rain Bear said. “I’ll let Tsauz sleep in my lodge tonight.”
“Word will travel fast. You know that, don’t you? You should expect ‘visitors’ soon.”
He exhaled hard and nodded. His long black braid hung over his left shoulder. There was something about the vulnerability in his eyes that made her long to hold him.
“I’ve posted guards around the perimeter of the village and on every high point,” he told her. “If they see anything suspicious, they will warn us.”
“There won’t be anything suspicious. I assure you they’ll leave their wolf tails at home.”
Tsauz’s eyes widened suddenly. Evening Star watched him. He obviously knew who she meant.
Rain Bear drew up a knee and rested a fist upon it while he scrutinized the boy. “A single man will be difficult to defend against. In this mass of humanity, who will notice one more stranger?”
Tsauz blinked, probably understanding more than they thought.
When Rain Bear looked at her she saw the desperation that lived in those dark depths. One man, bearing the weight of his people and hers on his shoulders. How did he manage?
Carefully, he said, “If it looks like the emissary might fail, I’m sure he will have instructions to kill our hostage.”
Evening Star smoothed her hand over Tsauz’s hair. “I can’t believe his father would—”
“No.” Rain Bear shook his head. “I don’t think his father would. But Cimmis and the Council are another thing entirely.”
Tsauz clutched Runner’s cold fur.
“Blessed Ancestors,” Evening Star whispered. She shifted to sit cross-legged, and her cape fell around her in firelit folds. He had obviously been doing a good deal of thinking since they’d talked.
“Cimmis and the Council will do whatever they must to maintain their authority.”
“But, why kill … ?”
Her uncle was shrewd and ruthless; it should have occurred to her that he might kill Ecan’s son.
Rain Bear’s eyes remained on the boy for a time before he said, “It would deny us leverage.”
Against Ecan. Yes, of course.
“If he thinks for one instant that Cimmis … It might start a war between the North Wind clans.”
Rain Bear frowned at Tsauz.
The boy seemed to sense it; he shivered and petted Runner. In a
voice just above a whisper, he said, “I want my f-father. Please take me to my father.”
Rain Bear said, “We will, Tsauz. For the moment, however, there are a great many obstacles to overcome before we can.”
Tsauz’s chest spasmed, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “I want to go now!
Take me now!
”
It was an order. He was, of course, accustomed to giving them—he was one of the elite in Fire Village. Almost everyone bowed to his needs. Just as they had bowed to her needs only a short time ago.
Evening Star said, “Tsauz, we are all tired after the Moon Ceremonial. I think we should finish this discussion when we are rested.”
She put a hand on the boy’s arm, and he flinched. “Please, come with me. I’ll take you to Rain Bear’s lodge.”
Tsauz rose on shaking knees and clutched Runner to his chest.
“It isn’t far.”
“You’re Evening Star?” he asked softly. “Matron Evening Star?”
“I am.”
“What are you doing with
them
?”
She considered the responses she could have given, and finally told him the truth. “I’m trying to save myself, Tsauz. And in so doing, trying to save our people, too.”
“From what?”
“From ourselves.”
He let out a deep-throated roar and wrenched his hand from her fingers.
“Fine. All right.” She stepped back. “Can you walk at my side? I’ll tell you if there’s something you might trip on.”
He nodded, and she slowly guided him to Rain Bear’s lodge at the foot of the gray basalt cliff.
She glanced at Rides-the-Wind. He had his wise old eyes focused on the boy.
Evening Star said, “The door to Rain Bear’s lodge is right in front of you, Tsauz. I’m going to pull the hanging back.”
He held Runner with one hand and felt for the doorframe with the other. When she pulled the hanging back, he entered the lodge.
Evening Star followed.
It was clean, everything in its place, though the chief seemed to have few belongings. A woodpile was stacked near the door, and three baskets sat near his bedding hides in the rear. She noted the two polished spears and a war club. Leaning beside the door, opposite the woodpile, stood a fishing pole and fishing spear. Two extra
buffalohides lay rolled near the fire, probably to sit on. She guided Tsauz toward them.
“Let’s make you a bed near the fire. You’ll be warmer there.”
He shook off the hand she placed on his shoulder and used his toes to feel the way.
“Keep going, Tsauz.” She walked at his side until they were a pace from the flames. “That’s far enough. Let me spread out the hides for you.”
She spread one hide, and said, “All right.”
He gently put Runner down, and sat, nervously twisting his hands in his lap. As she unrolled the bedding, he said, “They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?”
“They will have to go through Rain Bear first.” She tried to force assurance into her voice and wondered if the little boy heard through it.
T
sauz curled onto his side and pulled his dead puppy against him. Evening Star draped the other buffalohide on top of him, the hair side in, to keep him warm.
“You are about six hands from the fire, Tsauz, so you must not roll into the coals.”
The whimper caught in his throat. He closed his eyes. He could see better when his eyes were closed. Twinkles of firelight danced on the backs of his eyelids.
“I’m going to go fetch more wood for the fire. But I’ll be right back.”
He heard her duck outside.
Sticks clattered.
Tsauz whispered, “It’s all right, Runner. We’re all right.”
He knew he should try to run, but he longed to sleep. He’d hurt himself when he’d fallen down the mountainside. Besides, he didn’t know where Rain Bear had gone. He was probably right outside. Even if he weren’t, there were many other warriors who’d catch him before he got away.
Cold air blew in through the lodge flap as Wind Woman played in the fir branches outside.
Evening Star returned and placed more wood on the coals. In almost no time, sparks popped and flames licked up around the tinder.
Evening Star said, “Sleep well, Tsauz. You’ll feel better this afternoon.”
“Are you …” He hesitated and heard her turn.
“What is it?”
“Are you my father’s slave? The matron he brought home from Obsidian Cliff Village?”
Her cape rustled as though the question disturbed her. “I was. I escaped.”
“People said you killed my uncle Kenada.” A huge black bubble of pain welled in his chest. Uncle Kenada had always been kind to him, bringing him gifts from War Walks, running races with him. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“You slit his throat with his own knife?”
The way she moved, he thought she might have nodded. “I did.” A pause. “Do you know why?”
Tsauz closed his eyes and hugged Runner’s cold body. He whispered, “You’re Rain Bear’s woman now, aren’t you?”
“No. He granted me sanctuary, that’s all.”
“He treats you like you’re his woman.”
He had heard in Rain Bear’s voice a softness he used with no one else, including his own daughter. Evening Star must be his woman. Why would she deny it?
“I counsel him when he asks me to. That’s all.”
The unexpected sob caught him off guard. “You
are
his woman! He will listen to you. Please,
please
tell him to let me go home!”
She knelt beside him, and he smelled the scents of wood smoke and wet leather that clung to her. “I will do everything I can to help get you home, but it’s going to take time. Do you understand? I can’t do it right away. It’s too dangerous.”
Tsauz snuggled his face into the buffalohide and cried.
Evening Star petted his hair. “There are warriors everywhere. By noon today, they will know you are here. The trails will be filled with people who want to hurt you. We must be cautious.”
“I know! I heard the people calling me names on the trail!” He whimpered and tried to look at her. “I’m your enemy!”
He heard her sigh. “No, Tsauz.You are not my enemy. You are just a boy who got lost in a battle. A boy caught between two warring forces. We just want to keep you safe.”
“But my father is your enemy.”
Evening Star hesitated. “He is that. But he is also my distant cousin, Tsauz, as you are. As relatives I don’t wish to hurt either of you.”
She sounded like she meant it, but Father’s words whispered in his head:
Any of them would love to harm you, and … and I couldn’t stand that.
Tsauz tucked his face beneath the hide and stared at the darkness where Runner rested. He wished so hard he could make him come alive again.
“Cousin, no matter what, you must promise me that you will not try to run away. Rain Bear’s oath is the only thing standing between you and death. Do you understand?”
He swallowed hard. “I promise I won’t try to run away.”
“Thank you, Tsauz.” Evening Star rose and left the lodge.
She spoke with Rain Bear; then an old man coughed, and his steps crunched on gravel. The elder walked slowly, as though each step hurt. Breath wheezed in and out of his lungs. He stopped near Rain Bear’s lodge and coughed again. Was there another lodge nearby? The old man’s lodge?
Tsauz’s paternal granduncle had lived in the lodge right next to theirs in Fire Village. Tsauz had seen him every day until he died six moons ago. Father had gotten up one morning and gone to check on Granduncle and found him dead in his hides. He hadn’t suffered. He hadn’t even been sick. Father said the gods must have loved Granduncle very much to be so kind.
Tsauz petted Runner’s cold ears. Every time he breathed, it felt as though he had broken wings beating a hole inside him.
“I’m all right, Runner,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me.”
The old man said, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
Tsauz went quiet.
“I said, it hurts, doesn’t it?” He had a rough voice that sounded familiar.
Tsauz whispered, “What?”
“That hole inside you.”
Tsauz lay still.
“It’s supposed to hurt. Don’t fear it. That’s the gateway, Tsauz. If you take just a few more steps through the darkness, you’ll pass into a bright warm place.”
Tsauz twisted to look in the direction of the door. “How do you know my name?”
“Someday everyone will know it. I’m just a little ahead of them, that’s all.”
Leather rustled, like a door hanging being thrown back. When the old man coughed again, it sounded muted. He must have gone inside.
“What’s your name?” Tsauz asked.
“Go to sleep, boy. I need rest as much as you do. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Tsauz held on to Runner’s right foot, warming it with his hand, and watched as crimson threads of light played behind his eyelids.
They’re going to kill me. Just like they killed you, Runner.
R
ain Bear nodded to the guards before he slipped into his lodge and shrugged out of his cape. As he hooked it on the peg by the door, he looked around. The boy rested beneath a buffalohide near the fire. He had his head covered up, but he moved slightly when he heard Rain Bear’s footsteps.
The soothing scent of burning alder filled the lodge.
Rain Bear inhaled a deep breath and sat down on his bedding to remove his moccasins and leggings. The boy’s sightless eyes peeked out from beneath the hide.
“Sleep, Tsauz. You must be at least as tired as I am, and I’m exhausted.”
Tsauz raised his head. In a hateful voice, he said, “Why did you kill my puppy? He was too small to have hurt anybody.”
“The spear in Runner’s belly was not a Raven spear.”
Tsauz blinked. “Not a … ?”
“It was a North Wind spear.” Rain Bear pulled his leggings off and set them aside. “Most likely a beautiful thing, covered with red paint.”
Tsauz stared blindly at the roof, but he seemed to be thinking. After several moments, he fearfully asked, “Was it cedar-bark paint?”
“Probably.”
“Oh,” the boy said in a weak voice.
Rain Bear untied his moccasin laces and removed them. Though he thought he knew the answer, he gently asked, “Do you know whose spear it was?”
“My father’s.”
“Why would your father kill your puppy?”
“I don’t know … . He—he might have worried about Runner making noise, maybe barking during the battle.” He sounded soul-sick. “But I wouldn’t have let him.”
Tsauz’s hands moved beneath the hides, probably petting the dead puppy.
Rain Bear stretched out atop his hides and heaved a tired breath.
The sensation of lying down was so wonderful, he felt like he was floating. He closed his eyes and let the sweetness of rest filter through him. “I’m sorry, Tsauz. Sometimes people do things that just don’t make sense.”
As he drifted off to sleep, soft, barely audible whimpers filled the lodge.