People of the Mist (24 page)

 
          
Sun
Conch ran her hands over her war club. “He … well, he, too, wanted Red Knot. He
had been after her, trying to impress her. When she turned her-eyes to High Fox
… They had words. Flat
Willow
told High Fox to leave her alone or he’d make sure High Fox never set
foot on Flat Pearl land again.”

 
          
The
Panther arched a white eyebrow. “I must have a talk with this young man.”

 
          
“A
talk?” Nine Killer asked.

 
          
The
Panther smiled grimly, rubbing his hands together. “But of course, War Chief.
As I told you, I will see this thing through, no matter where it takes me. As I
found this morning when I arrived, the mist has clouded everyone’s vision—even
your own, good War Chief. Now I am curious, and as you must admit, who else but
The Panther can see this with clear eyes?”

 
          
“And
what do you wish of me?”

 
          
Panther
smiled cautiously. “Two things. First, your help. And, second, the hardest
thing of all, War Chief: your continued honesty.”

 
          
Things
had a funny way of working out, The Panther thought as he and Sun Conch walked
across the fallow tobacco fields toward the palisaded walls of
Three
Myrtle
Village
. Nine Killer could have been the blustery,
arrogant sort of War Chief, the type whose blood pulsed with self-wonder and
pride. Instead, the Panther had found him a sober and thoughtful man.

 
          
“What
do we do now?” Sun Conch asked from a half step behind. Dusk was falling.

 
          
“What
anyone with sense does to a fire about ready to burn out of control. We splash
a little water on it. How can we sniff out this girl’s killer if warriors are
killing each other and blood feud is being sworn?”

 
          
“Elder?”
she said, and caught up to walk at his side. She’d plaited her long hair into a
single braid that hung over her left shoulder. The style accentuated the roundness
of her face and size of her eyes. “What you said back there, about High Fox—you
don’t truly believe he killed Red Knot, do you?”

 
          
Ah,
what simple innocence filled Sun Conch’s soul. “I told Nine Killer the truth;
I’ll take this trail wherever it leads me. I never promised that I would
believe High Fox is innocent. If he is, I will do my best to prove it. If I
discover that he really did kill her… well, no matter how much you might love a
friend, he must suffer for his wrong actions. Or don’t you agree?” She frowned
at her moccasins. “I suppose so, Elder.”

 
          
“You
suppose! My girl, there are three kinds of people in the world: the
outstanding, the mediocre, and the truly hopeless. When you came to me, it was
with the spirit of the outstanding. Then I hear you mutter such a thing?”

 
          
Sun
Conch scuffed at the cold dirt of the tobacco field. “I have been asking myself
what I would do if High Fox really killed her, that’s all.”

 
          
Panther
shot her a glance. “And what did you decide?” ‘

 
          
“Elder,
I love him. I could not stand by and watch someone break his arms and legs and
throw him headfirst onto a bonfire. I—”

 
          
“Nothing
comes without its price, Sun Conch. We all must pay for our errors, as High Fox
must if he killed this young woman. As you found out when you came to my island
and gave yourself to me. Tell me, were the circumstances reversed, and you had
been accused, do you think High Fox would have done what you did?”

 
          
“I
would like to think so.”

 
          
“Bah!
You would “‘like to think so? “Would like’? What kind of words are those? To
me, they sound like the kind of baby dribble that people use to fool
themselves.”

 
          
Sun
Conch exhaled hard. “You don’t think much of High Fox, do you?”

 
          
Panther
stopped at the palisade gate. “No, Sun Conch, I do not. No matter that his
father is the Weroance of Three Myrtle Village, or that he comes from a
powerful clan, he will forever be one of those mediocre people, afraid to take
the step that would make them outstanding. He will be a man without commitment,
without the fiber in his soul to be a great leader. Unlike you, he won’t pay
the price to be outstanding.”

 
          
Sun
Conch frowned and fingered her war club. “I don’t understand, Elder. He took a
very great chance by asking Red Knot to run away with him. He was willing to
give up everything for her. Isn’t that paying the price?”

 
          
Panther
pulled at the loose skin on his chin. “Answer me this, Sun Conch. Let’s say you
were in his position. You’ve asked the love of your life to run off with you.”
You find her, dead, freshly murdered on the top of the ridge. What is the first
thing you do? Now, think before you speak. Be honest with yourself, and me.”

 
          
“I
have thought about it, Elder,” Sun Conch answered, “But I really don’t know.
Assuming I didn’t panic like High Fox, I think I would have… Well, but I’m not
sure. Talking about it later isn’t the same.”

 
          
“Ah,
wisdom! Very good, Sun Conch. But I would wager that even if you’d run in
panic—which I doubt-you would have turned back, accepted your responsibility,
and born the consequences.”

 
          
“I
hope you are correct, Elder.”

 
          
“Alas,
if I am not, I’ve forgotten more about people and their ways than I think I
have. And, now, let us go and see this Black Spike.”

 
          
They
entered the palisade, through the narrow passage between the overlapping walls.
From gaps between the posts, arrows could be fired from relative safety into
exposed attackers. On the way, they passed four armed warriors who stood
wrapped against the cold. Panther couldn’t help but notice the warding signs
they made with their fingers. The sight sobered him. Ohona help him if someone
suddenly came down sick and died, or someone shot a deer that had no heart or
liver. Humans could be violently irrational when it came to notions of
witchcraft.

 
          
The
muscular warrior named Big Noise met them at the opening into the village.
“What is your purpose, Panther?” The man’s eyes seemed to gleam, and he kept a
safe distance between them.

 
          
“I
have come to see Black Spike, Weroance of Three Myrtle Village.”

 
          
“Come
this way, but be warned, at any sign of trouble, I will act to protect my chief
and village.”

 
          
“I
would expect nothing less of a responsible warrior,” Panther agreed.

 
          
Big
Noise glanced at Sun Conch. “And what is your part in this, girl?”

 
          
Sun
Conch’s expression remained wooden. “I belong to The Panther. I do as he tells
me.”

 
          
Big
Noise almost missed a step, his face stunned. “You belong—”

 
          
“Yes,”
Sun Conch replied mildly. “I have given him my soul. But it wasn’t through
witchery, Big Noise. I did it of my own free will. I will serve The Panther
with my life. Do you understand?”

 
          
Big
Noise gulped hard, and nodded, then led them quickly around the thatched
houses, across the plaza with its big ceremonial fire pit and Guardian posts,
in front of the House of the Dead, and to the high-roofed Great House that
belonged to Black Spike.

 
          
“A
moment, please,” Big Noise said, gesturing for them to stop. “I will tell the
Weroance of your arrival.”

 
          
Big
Noise ducked under the door hanging, leaving them alone in the cold evening.
Panther said, “If I really were a witch, I’d take this opportunity to change
into an owl and wreak havoc. What kind of incompetence is this, leaving
dangerous; fiends like us. alone to commit mischief?”

 
          
“Elder,
Big Noise is known for fighting. No one has much regard for his thinking.”

 
          
“I
see why.”

 
          
At
that moment, Big Noise emerged into the night, held the flap to one side, and
gestured them inside.

 
          
Panther
ducked into the warm interior and stopped, ambushed by the smoky scent of human
bodies, the aroma of cooking food, the smell of tobacco and corn hanging from
the rafters. A flood of memories ebbed from his soul: childhood, in a house
like this, the noises of cooking, playing string games, laughter, and stories
told. He could imagine his uncle, slapping his knee as he related the wild tale
of the shark he’d tried to kill from his canoe with only a paddle for a weapon.

 
          
His
own small house on the island had none of these smells, engendered none of
these memories. If it had any odor, it was the musty scent of mold in the
thatch.

 
          
No,
this odor was a thing of people, of the place where many of them lived, not
just one lonely old hermit with a reputation for witchery.

 
          
Just
how long has it been since you ‘we been in a long house? The question startled
him. Had it been ten and two, or ten and three Comings of the Leaves?

 
          
Sun
Conch asked. “Elder, are you all right?”

 
          
Panther
blinked, realized that people were staring anxiously at him, and took a deep
breath. With regret he shook off the memories and walked across the matting to
the fire where Black Spike waited. High Fox sat to his right. Off to the side,
three women—slaves, by the way they were dressed—huddled next to the sleeping
benches, their eyes wary and frightened. One of the slaves, an older woman with
gray hair and a horrible burn scar on the side of her face, squinted at him.
Her eyes widened suddenly, as if she knew The Panther. But when he studied her,
trying to place her, she turned away.

 
          
“Welcome,
Elder,” Black Spike said, his good arm indicating the mats across from the
fire. His left arm was swollen and discolored from the wound, obviously
painful. “Please sit and enjoy our hospitality.”

 
          
“Thank
you, Weroance. May Ohona guard and keep you.” Panther winced as his joints
crackled through the process of lowering him. Sun Conch stood behind him, her
war club braced upon her crossed arms.

 
          
“I
have business with The Panther. You may be excused, Sun Conch.” Black Spike
gestured with his hand. “I’m sure your family will want to hear of your recent
adventures.” “She is with me now,” Panther said evenly. “Sun Conch follows my
orders.”

 
          
Black
Spike sat back. “What is this?”

 
          
Panther
said, “You may tell him, Sun Conch.”

 
          
“I
have given myself to The Panthtr, Weroance. I no longer have a clan or family.”

 
          
“It
was the price of my service,” Panther said. He took the moment to study the
shocked Weroance’s lean face. Black Spike had blanched, unease in those dark
eyes. He was still a handsome man. Despite the years, and the gray streaking
his pinned hair, muscle packed his broad shoulders. The lines of age enhanced
the perfect nose, mobile lips, and fine features.

 
          
“I
can read your thoughts, Black Spike,” Panther added softly. “There was no
sorcery involved. Sun Conch did this thing for High Fox.” Panther shifted his
gaze to High Fox. “So, we had better hope that you didn’t kill the girl, for
more than just your life is at stake.”

 
          
High
Fox dropped his gaze.