People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) (52 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear,Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)
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R
ain Bear sat quietly in the shadowed patch of timber that overlooked Whispering Waters Spring. Below him, he could see the grassy meadow where he fully expected Cimmis to stop for a midday rest.
To his right, Evening Star crouched over the body of Cimmis’s scout. He had already been stripped, Falcon Boy donning his clothes so that he could wave the all-clear when the North Wind procession arrived at the spring. If all went according to plan, they would begin to relax, and then, as they let down their guard, Rain Bear’s warriors would charge down the hill.
The advantage of surprise would be his. Cimmis’s people would be tired, off their guard. The terrain here favored an attack, allowing momentum to carry his people through their lines. Better, the defenders would be casting uphill at rapidly moving and bobbing targets.
As soon as his people had broken the lines, Kaska’s warriors would rally to their aid. If it worked as planned, within moments, Dogrib would have taken the Four Old Women. That was the key. Hold them, and all North Wind opposition would crumble.
He glanced back at the low knob above Raspberry Creek where the curious white plume of smoke had appeared. They had seen it a hand of time ago as they moved into position. It looked like someone was burning green branches to make so much smoke. Like a beacon.
But for whom? He had dispatched Sleeper and a handful of scouts to find out, fearing a flanking move by Cimmis.
“He’s dead,” Evening Star said as she stood. The scout’s body looked pathetic and forlorn in the meadow grass. “Look at him there. Just one more young man who has lost his future. All of his Dreams are gone, Rain Bear. Within days, his flesh, too, will be stripped away. By this time next year, the grass will have grown through a few white bones. Porcupines will gnaw at his remaining ribs, and mice will build a house inside his skull.”
“It’s how Song Maker made the world.” Rain Bear gave a shrug. “It’s such a waste, but what can we do? Name a single people who don’t make war, who don’t raid.”
She nodded. “I know, but I don’t have to like it.”
He glanced at the warriors who had lain down in the shade behind him. He wanted them as completely rested as they could be.
A day this warm was unusual for the middle of the winter. Just days ago snow had coated these same trees. Now the needles looked green in the bright midday sun. It felt like spring.
Evening Star cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“It sounded like someone shouted in the distance.”
He listened, hearing the soft sigh of the breeze through the fir branches, the melodic trill of a chickadee.
“Definitely shouting,” she said, her blue eyes narrowing.
Rain Bear shrugged, wondering if age had robbed him of hearing as well as flexibility in his joints and muscles. “If there’s anything to report, Talon will let us know. He and his scouts are keeping—”
“Great Chief!” Sleeper called from below. The war chief was waving for all he was worth.
Rain Bear frowned. “Curious. Stay here. I’ll go down to get his report.”
He started down the ridge, nodding to his warriors as they dozed, checked their weapons, and waited.
As he stepped into the sunshine, it was to see Sleeper’s small party of scouts weaving through the trees, followed by what seemed to be a litter. The dress of the bearers couldn’t be mistaken for anything but North Wind.
Sleeper’s expression immediately set Rain Bear on edge.
“Did you find that fire?” Rain Bear asked.
“Did we ever.” Sleeper’s eyes were wide. “You were right. It was a signal for us. We crept up the Raspberry Creek bottom, and look what we found.” He extended his arm toward the litter bearers.
Rain Bear read the awed expressions of Sleeper’s warriors. These were the men who had shadowed Ecan, definitely not callow novices.
He stepped forward to meet the litter. The four young men carrying it were muscular, fit-looking. Beautifully dyed blue war shirts hung to midthigh, and each was decorated by a wealth of stone, shell, bone, and copper beads. They carried themselves well, each as alert as a hawk sailing into an eagle’s territory.
Rain Bear raised a hand. “What is your purpose?”
As one, they slowed to a stop, the right-hand man asking, “Can you take us to the great chief, Rain Bear? We come in response to his promise of safe passage.”
That caught him by surprise. “I am Rain Bear. If your purpose is peace, your safe passage will be honored.”
The speaker smiled uneasily, and at a gesture, lowered the litter. “I am Gispaxloat. I am here on the orders of our great matron. We place ourselves under your protection, Great Chief, and invoke the honor of your oath.”
“What is this?” Rain Bear stepped forward, hands raised. “I grant you my protection, but why are you here? Who’s in the litter?”
Gispaxloat carefully reached over, pulling back the corner of a stunningly decorated and painted robe to reveal an old woman, eyes sunken, her mouth agape. He’d have thought her dead but for the faint rising and falling of her chest.
Gispaxloat stood stiffly at attention. “Great Chief, I present the matron of the North Wind People, Astcat. She has asked us to tell you that when her soul returns, she wishes to speak with Matron Evening Star, Soul Keeper Rides-the-Wind, and the boy Tsauz.”
 
 
W
ind Woman blew Evening Star’s long red hair over her face. She brushed it away and stared out at the vista. From the top of the timbered ridge, she could see down the coastline and along the rugged terrain. On the distant point below them, Wasp Village could be seen. It seemed so peaceful on such an unseasonably warm day.
Movement caught her eye, and she turned to watch a man trotting down the hillside. His white hair shone like polished seashells. Glancing down the backside of the ridge, she wondered what was keeping Rain Bear. He’d been gone nearly three fingers of time.
“Is that Dogrib?” Rides-the-Wind asked and pointed with his walking stick. He sat on a rock not far from the dead scout’s body.
“With blazing white hair like that? It’s got to be. He’s back sooner than I’d have thought.”
“Perhaps they’re closer than we think and he didn’t need to run farther.”
Dogrib trotted up and stopped. He bent, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His gaze searched the people nearby before he whispered, “Where is Rain Bear?”
Evening Star said, “Sleeper returned from a scouting trip. Rain Bear went to take his report. What did you find?”
“I met our scout, Salt Boy.” He gave Evening Star a suspicious look, as though not certain he should trust her with the information. “He was running down the trail as fast as he could. There was a battle up on the old burned ridge.”
“I don’t understand? Who was fighting?”
“The renegade chiefs who refused to support Rain Bear mounted their own attack at the spring.”
Evening Star took a deep breath, expecting the worst. “And?”
Dogrib shook his head. “Salt Boy said Cimmis’s warriors cut through them like an obsidian knife through hot fat. Apparently Bluegrass’s faction managed to gather about six tens of warriors. They were badly outnumbered to start with and bungled the attack.”
“The fools!” Rides-the-Wind spat the words and clutched Tsauz’s hand more tightly.
Evening Star absently stared at the old alder leaves blowing up the trail. “Cimmis isn’t anyone’s fool. He’ll think it was a trick, a way to make him lower his guard for the real attack.”
Dogrib nodded, a new respect in his eyes. “I agree, Matron.”
“What of Kaska’s forces? Did Salt Boy see them?”
“He watched the battle from that point, Matron.” Dogrib pointed to a hilltop north of the spring, where a thick stand of firs grew. “Salt Boy said he couldn’t tell one group of warriors from another, but they all worked as one, obeying Cimmis’s orders. However, when the battle was over, he’s sure he saw Matron Kaska plunge her stiletto into Sand Wasp’s back. Many times.”
Rain Bear’s familiar steps sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn. “What happened then? Did Cimmis kill Kaska?”
Dogrib shook his head. “Salt Boy says no.”
She tucked windblown hair behind her ears. “If he’s smart he’ll wait. He won’t want to alienate her warriors when he might need to use them against us.”
She waited while Dogrib made his report to Rain Bear.
Rain Bear stared at the ground, kicking pensively at the old leaves and duff. “Do you think there’s any chance our decoy scout can just wave them in?”
“Not any more. We must choose another place,” Dogrib said. “A place far enough ahead that we will have time to get into position. If we attack at dusk, close to Wasp Village, when they’re utterly exhausted from running and fighting, we’ll have an advantage.”
“They’ve been hit once today; they’ll be waiting for us around every bend.”
Evening Star touched his arm. “Think about attacking at Gull Inlet. It’s close to Wasp Village. They will be rushing to get there, thinking they are almost safe.”
Rain Bear nodded; then his black brows drew together. “Red Dog said they expected our attack there.”
She saw his mind wasn’t on war and asked, “What is it?”
“Something unexpected has happened. I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“What?”
“Matron Astcat has taken me up on my offer.”
Evening Star blinked. “What offer?”
Rain Bear turned and used his chin to gesture. Evening Star frowned down the hill at the litter being carefully placed in the shade. Four blue-shirted warriors were watching carefully as Sleeper and his men kept curious warriors at bay.
“I don’t … ,” she started, then stopped. Yes, she did understand. “She didn’t. She wouldn’t!”
“She would and did.” Rain Bear lifted his brows, silently asking her what he was supposed to do now.
Evening Star looked at the litter again. “Is she all right?”
“She’s alive. But her soul is gone.”
Dogrib said, “What are you speaking about?”
“See that new litter?” Rain Bear asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s Matron Astcat.”
Dogrib looked like he’d been bludgeoned.
“What?”
Rides-the-Wind stepped forward, and his gray beard flapped in the wind. “Great Chief, Astcat has placed a strand of Power in your hand. How will you pull it?”
Rain Bear made a calming gesture with his hands. “I just need some time to think.”
Evening Star’s gaze drifted down the coastline, noting every unusual
rock formation and the way the surf curled against the cliffs. “Well, you had better think fast. With each step, the North Wind People are closing the distance to Wasp Village. Once they are behind that palisade, you won’t be able to strike at them.”
“And you are now responsible for the great matron’s welfare,” Rides-the-Wind reminded. “If anything should happen to her all of your hopes will be dashed like a clamshell on the rocks.”
Rain Bear stepped out of the trees to stare down at the distant Wasp Village. “I am very aware of that, Elder.”
Evening Star watched him stroke his chin, a reservation behind his dark eyes. He stood so deeply lost in thought that he might have been stone.
He stiffened as if struck, a light behind his eyes. He glanced at Evening Star, then at the Soul Keeper. “Having the matron complicates things, but I think I know how to do this. If we are to succeed, I need your help. And you, Dogrib, can you carry out a particularly dangerous task?”
R
ides-the-Wind held Tsauz’s hand and looked over the side of the trail to the surf below. Mother Ocean raged beside them, throwing water at the passing people as though to wash humans from the face of the world. In the distance, Thunderbirds hunted a dark wall of Cloud People, flashing and soaring. If he concentrated he could hear the deep boom of thunder on Wind Woman’s breath.
Immediately to the south, Gull Inlet cut a wide notch in the cliffs. The trail split just before the inlet. One branch ran up over the cliffs, then followed the ridge where it jutted out into Raven Bay. The other branch, which Rain Bear’s warriors currently followed, ran parallel to the ridge.
If Rain Bear’s audacious plan worked, Rides-the-Wind could see a way out of their current dilemma. So much depended on timing and Rain Bear’s control of his warriors in battle. Even more depended on Evening Star’s courage, and Matron Astcat’s condition. May the gods help them if her soul returned too soon. If the North Wind lines held and Rain Bear’s warriors fled the wrong way, they’d end up cut off from retreat and would be driven into Gull Inlet. He could imagine tens of people fleeing into the surf, trying to swim through the rough swells. Many would drown.
Astcat’s four litter-bearers seemed tireless as they bore the great matron onward. In fact, their pace only seemed slowed by Rides-the-Wind
and Tsauz. His old bones were hobbling along as fast as they could go, but already he was tired, fearful of his heart where it hammered so hard against his ancient ribs.
They had one hand of time, maybe.
“Soul Keeper?” Evening Star called just above a whisper.
He turned. “Yes?”
“I have a little dried fish left in my pack, and Tsauz has some dried seaweed. It’s not much, but anything will help keep your strength up.”
“Your kindness is appreciated.” Rides-the-Wind was freezing and hungry. “Pull the yellow bag from my pack and we can chew the last of the pemmican as we go.”
“Yes, Elder.”
As Evening Star reached to fish around in Rides-the-Wind’s pack, she almost pulled him off balance. She handed sections to him, Tsauz, and the litter bearers. They all ate as they walked.
“Is she all right, Elder?” Evening Star indicated the litter.
“I think she’s alive, though I can’t prove it.”
Tsauz bent around to peer blindly at Rides-the-Wind. Worry tightened his young face. “But she’s breathing, isn’t she?”
“Not that I can tell, but that may mean nothing. Several times in the past six tens of summers I have sat beside people who did not seem to be alive. They did not breathe. They had no heartbeat. Yet, two or three days later, they awakened and smiled at me.” He stared at Astcat, catching glimpses of her face. Damp locks of hair spread across her blankets like a dark gray halo.
“She’ll get well, Elder. I know it.” Tsauz seemed so sure of himself.
“I pray you’re right.”
Tsauz was genuinely concerned. He could see it in the boy’s eyes and the worried set of his mouth. “Was the matron kind to you?”
“Oh, yes. After Mother’s death she used to speak to me when no one else would. I think people were frightened by my blindness, but Matron Astcat treated me just the same as she had before Mother’s death.”
“She has guided her people well.”
“She tried to, but when her soul started to fly away, things changed.”
Evening Star’s delicate brows lowered. “How so?”
“Father said the Council of Elders had become like a boat without a paddler. There was no one to tell it which way it should go. It just seemed to flounder without her. Then Old Woman North decided to make the decisions.”
“And we all know what that led us to,” Evening Star said darkly.
Tsauz nodded. “We only started attacking the Raven People after Matron Astcat’s soul left her body.”
It surprised Rides-the-Wind that the boy knew what a bad decision that had been. He hadn’t gotten that from his father, since Ecan seemed to thrive on murdering Raven People.
In a barely audible voice, Tsauz said, “I want to marry her, Elder. I
have
to.”
Evening Star turned. “What will you do if you become chief, Tsauz?”
He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Stop the war. Then I—I’ll free all the Raven People slaves. I have to. I’ve seen it.”
“Seen it?” Rides the Wind frowned. “You mean in a Dream? Thunderbird showed it to you?”
Tsauz’s blind eyes seemed to be drifting over the white-crested waves that tormented Mother Ocean just below their trail. “No, this is a Dream I had the night I went blind. Mother was … was dead, and Red Dog left me sitting alone on a hillside with the people who’d been hurt in the fire. They all died, of course; and I was scared. I tried to climb off the rock and fell and hit my arm.” He wet his lips. “Father later said that once I got used to being safe again, I’d stop having the Dream, but it’s never gone away.”
“What happens in the Dream, Tsauz?”
Tsauz looked nervous, his feet feeling for the trail as he held Rides-the-Wind’s arm. “After I have made peace with the Raven People I’m swimming in a lake of blood trying to save a baby boy who’s drowning, and there are strange feathered Spirits—”
“Ah,” Rides-the-Wind said in a soft voice. “I know that Dream.”
Tsauz jerked his head around, almost falling. “You do?”
“Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, I’ve never known a Dreamer who hasn’t had that Dream at least once in his life. The greatest Dreamers have it many times.”
“But why, Elder? What does it mean?”
Rides-the-Wind gestured uncertainly. “I think it’s a warning. Something far in the future, I fear.”
As though trying to memorize it, Tsauz whispered, “A bloody boy far in the future.”
 
 
A
s they wound down the mountain trail through the leafless alder groves, Ecan gradually dropped to the rear of the procession to walk
beside Pitch. No one seemed to notice. Almost everyone had shifted positions after the battle. Cimmis now walked in front, beside Dzoo. Kaska’s warriors followed them; then came the three concentric circles of warriors around the Four Old Women. Kaska’s litter was the last in line as they descended the steep trail, and she had new litter bearers—Cimmis’s warriors. Cimmis had effectively separated her from her people.
She had to know that upon arrival at Wasp Village, they would separate her permanently.
With Sand Wasp dead, her warriors were like a headless serpent, writhing about aimlessly. Ecan had heard two disheartened men whisper that they should just go back to Salmon Village and live out their lives without a matron.
Pitch walked two paces to Ecan’s left, the Singer’s narrow face a stoic mask, his gaze trying to keep track of Dzoo way up at the front.
Ecan shifted to watch her through the weave of people. Ahead, the gray cliffs of Gull Inlet scooped out the coastline. Her eyes seemed to be on the wind-twisted firs that crowded the rim.
Is that where Rain Bear has set up his ambush?
The trail made a wide curve around a thicket of head-high alder saplings. Ecan saw Cimmis gesture, and two warriors sprinted to the thicket and began thrashing it with their spears, trying to flush any enemy warriors who might be hiding there.
Cimmis was saying something to Dzoo.
When her soft laughter echoed in return, the entire procession backed away.
Ecan narrowed his eyes.
Coyote will kill him after we arrive at Wasp Village. And if Dzoo is right, I have to kill Coyote as soon after as possible.
He shot a glance back at Kaska where she rode the litter. He was going to need a great matron. His first attempt to whip Evening Star into submission hadn’t gone so well. Would he have better luck with Kaska? Would she be willing to divorce her husband and marry him, say, if he were to save her life and the life of her daughter?
Coyote. How do I kill Coyote?
Gods, he didn’t even know who the man was!

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