Read People of the Mist Online

Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

People of the Mist (35 page)

 
          
“He’s
not going to find anything.”

 
          
“Good!
Well, why not invite the Mamanatowick inside our gates to dig into our
business, too? He won’t find anything either, will he?”

 
          
“It’s
not like that!” Shell Comb protested. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

 
          
Yellow
Net stood then, wiping her hands on a rag. “If you will excuse me, Weroansqua,
I think I’d better—”

 
          
“What?
Not interested in another family quarrel?”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk asked bitterly as she studied Shell Comb through half-lidded eyes.

 
          
“It’s
late,” Yellow Net pleaded. “Quick Fawn should have everything ready for bed.
Good night, Weroansqua. We’ll talk in the morning.”

 
          
“Good
night, niece.” Hunting Hawk rubbed her shivering arms and reached for a softly
tanned deerskin blanket, its surface covered with blue peak, the highly prized
blue shell beads. This she wrapped tightly about her, as if to ward off more
than the cold. After Yellow Net had ducked out into the night, she said, “Shell
Comb, the only time I’m ridiculous js when you make me look that way.”

 
          
“I
wasn’t near the problem Nine Killer was. If you have wrath, I’d turn it his way
instead of at your own family.”

 
          
“Don’t
you see what’s happening here? We’re about to come apart. Whoever killed Red
Knot is trying to kill us all! I took a gamble by pledging the girl to Copper
Thunder. With an alliance by marriage, I hoped to play him against Water Snake
and Stone Frog, use him as a big ugly bear to take swipes at the wolves
snapping at our flanks. And now what? Eh? I ask you?”

 
          
Shell
Comb lowered her eyes.

 
          
“I’ll
tell you what,” Hunting Hawk continued. “Now I’ve got that very same bear here,
lingering, watching, learning our weaknesses while he lives in our midst. I
can’t throw him out! He’s here as our guest. If I tell him to leave, he has all
the excuse he needs to turn his warriors loose on us.”

 
          
Shell
Comb nervously creased the hem of her doeskin dress, her mouth pursed.

 
          
“And
to the south, the Mamanatowick licks his lips, fully aware by now that disaster
has struck and the Independent villages are about to lunge for each other’s
throats. Do you think he’ll just sit down there in Appa mat tuck Village and
roast hazelnuts on his fire? While to the north, you know that word will reach
Stone Frog, and his Conoy warriors will be asking questions, just to see how
disorganized we are.” She pointed a finger. “And do you think that our people
don’t understand this? That they’re not frightened by the consequences?”

 
          
“Mother,
I—”

 
          
“Wait!
Let me finish. All these things that you should know—that should be as normal
to a leader as the very breath in her lungs—seem beyond you! And when even a
fool should have a grasp of our situation, you give a notorious witch access to
our village.” Hunting Hawk slumped. “Okeus have mercy on us.”

 
          
Shell
Comb spoke slowly, deliberately, desperation in her voice, “Wasn’t it you who
constantly beat into my head that there is no setback that can’t be turned to
an opportunity if a little thought is given to it?”

 
          
“That
sounds like something I would say.” Hunting Hawk shifted. “I’m surprised you
listened.”

 
          
Shell
Comb ignored the sarcasm. “Well, I have given thought to our current situation.
There is an opportunity here, perhaps a better one than we had with Red Knot.
And The Panther can play a role, too.” “Oh, have you another unmarried daughter
to offer the Great Tayac?” “No. But you do.” “I do? But, I don’t…” Hunting Hawk
gaped at Shell Comb’s resolute expression. “You?”

 
          
“Me.”

 
          
“You’re
much older than he, almost past your bearing time.”

 
          
“I
still spend my three days in the Women’s House. Look at me, Mother. When have
you ever seen a woman of my age look so young? And I’ve seen the look in Copper
Thunder’s eyes when he watches my breasts and the sway of my hips.”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk frowned. “It’s been so long since I gave you any serious thought that it
never occurred to me the Great Tayac might.”

 
          
Shell
Comb scowled. “You can call on your sister’s family to rule after you. I don’t
have to be here. Yellow Net is your closest living relative after me. And,
following her, there is your nephew Tall Deer and great-niece Quick Fawn.”

 
          
“That’s
assuming you stay with Copper Thunder. You wear out husbands faster than most
people wear out moccasins. Each time I marry you off, you come home, divorced
and pregnant again.”

 
          
“If
I can conceive his child, we’ll have Copper Thunder in our camp, and he can
savage our wolves for us.” Shell Comb was smiling to herself, absently
fingering a ringlet of her long black hair.

 
          
“I’ll
consider it.” Hunting Hawk sat pensively. “And The Panther? Where do you see
the advantage of having him here?” “What if we do all we can to help him? If,
rather than harass him, we make him welcome?”

 
          
“Welcome
a witch?”

 
          
“Mother,
please. Let’s see what he’s like. He may not be so bad.”

 
          
“He’s
a night traveler! What do we have to see?”

 
          
“You’re
not thinking clearly about this, about our options. What if he can be molded,
turned to our purposes?” ‘

 
          
“I
don’t follow you.”

 
          
“He
already saved the Three Myrtle raid from disaster. So, suppose that we win him
to our side. As much as our people fear him, think how much the Mamanatowick’s
people would fear him.”

 
          
“We
don’t even know who he is, what he wants.”

 
          
“But
if he could be persuaded to work with us, help us, wouldn’t that be a weapon to
use against our enemies?”

 
          
“You’re
talking about a witch, girl, not some duty bound warrior. You don’t just give
them orders like you do a War Chief!”

 
          
“Of
course not, but if we could persuade him to help us, it would strengthen our
position. Handled properly, he could hearten our warriors, and strike fear into
the souls of our enemies. Nine Killer and his men are already in his debt.”

 
          
“You
scare me sometimes.”

 
          
“Mother,
wasn’t it you who told me that nothing worthwhile ever comes without risk?
Wasn’t it you who said that sometimes, we have to deny the inclination of our
hearts, and use our heads?”

 
          
A
sorcerer of their own? Hunting Hawk considered the implications. Nine Killer
had clearly supported The Panther. But what did they know about him? The stories
that circulated through the villages told of a man with terrible Power, one who
conversed with animals, could charm even the most resolute opponent. Some young
warriors who had traveled to his island to kill him had been found floating in
their canoes, shot dead. Others had simply disappeared, never to be heard of
again.

 
          
Then,
on the other hand, if The Panther could be persuaded to join them, to work with
them, he would be a Powerful weapon indeed. In spite of her better judgment,
the idea appealed to her feisty nature. Of late, she’d grown tired of
moderating the endless squabbles among the Independent villages. The growing
threat of Water Snake’s warriors had sent her to Copper Thunder in an attempt
to break the age-old equilibrium between the Independent villages, the Conoy,
and the Mamanatowick. Suppose she could have Copper Thunder and The Panther to
boot? Wouldn’t that be a legacy to leave behind? People would speak her name
with awe for generations.

 
          
“I
don’t know. I need time to think about it.” Hunting Hawk tucked her blanket
over her legs. The possibilities raced through her head like little mice.
“There is more to this than …”

 
          
The
deer hide hanging over the entrance was thrown back, and Copper Thunder ducked
through with two of his warriors. He strode across the floor like a brooding
thunderstorm. His necklaces clinked with each step.

 
          
“Weroansqua,
a word, please.” He stopped before her, chest heaving, and propped both of his
hands on his hips.

 
          
“Speak,
Great Tayac.” Now what? He looked as if someone had slapped his face, and it
set her blood to prickling. Not for the first time, she wished she had a guard
standing at her back.

 
          
“I
want that old man cast out of
Flat
Pearl
Village
tonight!” His jaws clamped, the muscles
knotted.

 
          
“That
old man?” Hunting Hawk kept her expression blank. Shell Comb at least had the
wits to remain silent. “The one who calls himself The Panther. I want him out
of here. Now!”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk stiffened. How dare he order her as if she were some lesser chief? “Great
Tayac, he is a guest here, as you are. If his presence offends you, I will do
all that I can to minimize his contact with you.”

 
          
“You
don’t—”

 
          
“No!
You don’t order me in my village. Were I in your village, I would never presume
to use the tone of voice you just used with me.” She raised her hands in a
calming gesture and lowered her voice. “We are both upset, Great Tayac. Please.
Let us not lose our heads over a triviality. We are better than that.” He fumed
for a moment, but when she said no more, he took a deep breath. “Yes, you are
right. I apologize for my outburst. However, if that old serpent crosses me, I
will not be responsible for the consequences, do you understand?”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk’s curiosity roused at the mixture of anger and uncertainty in his eyes.
What had the old man done to fracture the iron will that had dominated Copper
Thunder’s actions during their association?

 
          
“Great
Tayac, I cannot control The Panther any more than I can control you. But, tell
me, what has he done to upset you so?” She gave him the mild look of curiosity
and challenge that had worked so well for her in the past.

 
          
“Nothing’s
changed! He’s still the same old arrogant reptile he’s always been. A
troublemaker, meddling in other people’s …” Copper Thunder stopped short, a
clenched fist raised. His gaze sharpened, the cunning returning to his
expression. “Well played, Weroansqua. Your reputation for competence is
deserved indeed. You almost made me forget myself.”

 
          
“And
my curiosity is stirred.” Hunting Hawk made a gesture. “Please, seat yourself,
Great Tayac. Someone, bring my guest a cup of hot tea.”

 
          
Copper
Thunder gave her an amused smile and seated himself with the smooth agility of
a cougar. “A cup of tea will do me quite well, thank you.”

 
          
One
of the slaves scurried to comply with her request. Shell Comb stirred for the
first time since Copper Thunder’s entrance, watched from behind large dark
eyes.

 
          
Copper
Thunder arranged himself, straightening his strings of beads and the spider
gorget. He smoothed his breech clout flap and smiled as the steaming mug was
handed to him. “Mint tea. My favorite. And what is this? Blackberry added for
extra flavor?”

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