People of the Mist (42 page)

 
          
Nine
Killer looked at The Panther and Sun Conch. The old man had been thoughtful all
evening. From the wrinkles on his forehead, his mind had been knotted around
the problem of the girl’s death.

 
          
Sun
Conch seemed moody, and withdrawn. Most of the evening she had stared absently
at the fire, eating as if her food had no taste. White Otter had attempted
several times to draw Sun Conch into a conversation, but something had changed
between the girls. Once they had been close friends, but now Sun Conch seemed
older, more a woman than a girl.

 
          
Noting
that Rosebud was out of earshot, Nine Killer asked, “What did you discover
today?”

 
          
“Oh,
a great many things.” Panther rubbed his face with a leathery hand. “Tell me;
War Chief, what is the penalty for a young man who is Caught sleeping with a
girl?”

 
          
Nine
Killer shrugged. “That would depend on who the girl was, how old, and which
clan she belonged to. And, of course, it would depend on who the man was.”

 
          
Panther
reached out and pinched tobacco from the small ceramic pot beside him. He
packed the cut leaves into the bowl of his old stained clay pipe, glanced at
Sun Conch, and indicated the fire. To Nine Killer’s surprise, it took a moment
for the girl to realize what she was being asked. Sun Conch jumped, looking
startled and somewhat guilty, and reached out with a twig to light the Elder’s
pipe.

 
          
Only
after The Panther puffed a blue cloud did he say in low tones, “Let us suppose
the young woman was Red Knot.”

 
          
Nine
Killer took a deep breath. “The Weroansqua’s granddaughter?” Nine Killer shook
his head, imagining the hot anger that would have brewed in Hunting Hawk’s
eyes. “That would have been bad indeed, Elder. Only a fool enrages an old sow
bear as possessive of her cubs as Hunting Hawk is.”

 
          
“Granted,
but say the youngster was High Fox, son of Black Spike. This wouldn’t be quite
so impermissible as, say, Flat Willow?” Nine Killer’s pipe was forgotten in his
hand. Panther could read the shock on his face. “This coupling was forced, or
with her consent?”

 
          
“According
to my sources, she wasn’t forced.”

 
          
“Good.
If she had been, not even you could have stemmed the Weroansqua’s rage. Oh,
Black Spike’s Bloodroot Clan might have been able to buy off some of Hunting
Hawk’s anger—provided-suitable tribute was offered. High Fox would still have
to be punished, of course, but he might have been spared his life. On the other
hand, if someone like Flat Willow forced her, Hunting Hawk would most likely
have tortured him until he died, or broken his arms and legs and thrown his
body on the bonfire to burn to death.”

 
          
“But
if she wasn’t forced, and freely coupled with him?”

 
          
“That’s
different,” Nine Killer said slowly. “In Flat Willow’s case, she might have
ordered him beaten to within an inch of his life. Maybe his legs would have
been broken and he’d have had to live on the mercy of his clan. Catch her on
the wrong day, and she might still have ordered me to brain him and toss his
body into the
Fish
River
at high tide.”

 
          
Sun
Conch bit her lip.

 
          
Nine
Killer gave her a questioning look. Panther noticed, and explained, “It seems
as if young High Fox lied to me. In the process, he placed Sun Conch at a
disadvantage.” He turned to the chastened girl. “How much of this did you
know?”

 
          
Sun
Conch dropped her head to stare at her slim brown hands. “I didn’t know, Elder.
I swear. I…”

 
          
“You
suspected?”

 
          
“Well,
they—they used to disappear. You know, just up and slip away. Sometimes a
person doesn’t ask… doesn’t wish to know.” She spread her hands wide. “Besides,
they thought they would marry. No one anticipated this match with Copper
Thunder.”

 
          
Nine
Killer considered the implications. To think, the Weroansqua’s immature
granddaughter dallying with a man—and right under his nose!

 
          
Nine
Killer growled to himself, realized his pipe had gone cold, and snagged up the
twig to relight it. Very well, it had happened—and Red Knot was dead. So, how
were these things related?

 
          
The
Panther gave the fire a baleful look, his fingers gripping his pipe stem until
the nails had gone pale. “I told him I would skin him alive.”

 
          
“Pardon?
Skin who?” Nine Killer asked.

 
          
“High
Fox! I told him what would happen if I discovered that he’d lied to me.” Nine
Killer exhaled through his nose, watching two threads of blue smoke wind upward
from his nostrils. “Perhaps we have yet another reason for murder. Was this
something Red Knot was using to control him? To manipulate him to her ends?
After all, her word against his would be a powerful incentive. Perhaps he
thought the only way to keep Red Knot quiet. was the most permanent way?”
Panther stared into the distance, eyes vacant. “That makes a great deal of
sense, War Chief. More now than at any time before. If she married Copper
Thunder, she would hold that club over High Fox’s head for years. Oh, gradually
the seriousness of it would fade, but at eighteen summers and blinded by the
impetuousness of youth, did High Fox understand that?”

 
          
Sun
Conch shook her head, answer enough.

 
          
“It
appears, Elder, that rather than champion High Fox, you may have just killed
him.”

 
          
“Oh
… but…” Sun Conch’s eyes blurred. “Elder?”

 
          
The
Panther raised a cautionary finger. “Not yet, War Chief. Flat
Willow
claims that Red Knot’s body was cold when
he found it. He said her urine was even drying out. Now, let us consider. Flat
Willow sees High Fox charging down the trail. They talk. Not the best of
friends anymore, they have a quick conversation, and High Fox wants to escape
as quickly as he can. Flat
Willow
’s curiosity is stirred, so he backtracks High Fox to the ridge top to
find the body. How long would that take, War Chief?”

 
          
Nine
Killer pictured the trail above Oyster Shell Landing. “Say that Flat Willow was
halfway down the slope, I’d say it would take about as long to scale the ridge
as it would take to smoke the tobacco in your pipe bowl. I saw High Fox’s
tracks where he ran down the trail. His was not exactly a difficult trail to
work out, and Flat Willow, I hear, is an excellent tracker. Once on top, not
knowing what he was looking for, Flat Willow finds Red Knot’s tracks coming up
the other side. Now, he knows those tracks were not High Fox’s, so he would
scout around, trying to identify the person High Fox met. All in all, I’d say
it took less than half a hand of time for Flat Willow to find the body.”

 
          
Panther
nodded. “You think as I do, War Chief. It’s much too soon for the body to
cool.”

 
          
“If
you take Flat Willow’s word that it…” Nine Killer shook his head. “No, that
doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie about how long the body had lain there?”

 
          
“Why
indeed,” Panther agreed. “It’s a flaw in his otherwise perfect story. If he
wants us to believe that High Fox killed the girl—and I think he does—he
slipped up when he told me she was cold to the touch.”

 
          
“He’s
hiding something!” Sun Conch blurted. “You saw him, Elder. You called it a
serpent around his heart.” She glanced at Nine Killer. “Flat
Willow
even threatened the Elder! Said he’d like
to use his war club on him.”

 
          
Panther
raised a hand to calm Sun Conch. “What can you tell me about Flat Willow, War
Chief? What sort of man is he? My impression is that he’s looking for
recognition and glory, but unwilling to do the work such rewards entail.”

 
          
Nine
Killer resettled himself, glancing quickly over his shoulder to insure that
their talk was still private. “A potter couldn’t make a better impression in
soft clay with a cord-wrapped paddle. He’s all of that. His clan, Star Crab, is
respected, if not influential in
Flat
Pearl
Village
. His mother and father were killed by the
Mamanatowick’s warriors when he was a boy of four. He went to live with this
mother’s brother, Green Starfish. Green Starfish went out fishing one time, and
never came back. Drowned, we think. Flat
Willow
would have been six then. After that the
boy shuttled from family to family, never quite fitting in.”

 
          
“In
trouble?” Panther asked.

 
          
Nine
Killer shrugged. “What boy isn’t? But, yes. He’s unruly, loudmouthed, and as
abrasive as wet sand on greenstone. He has a reputation as a scrapper—generally
picking fights he can’t possibly win. You know the type.”

 
          
“Elder?”
Sun Conch said, and tucked her fingers beneath her arms, as if suddenly
chilled. “Flat
Willow
used to tell such lies. When he was a boy. Things we couldn’t believe.
Stories about huge fish he’d caught—but no one ever saw the fish. Or, he’d tell
of seeing deer that jumped over whole trees, and flying monsters. If one of us
said no, that it was just a story, he’d start a fight to prove himself right.”

 
          
Panther
stared at the embers in his pipe bowl. “Not the most reliable of people to find
the body, but in this case, do you think he would have lied to me? You said you
ran straight up there. How long after dawn was it?”

 
          
Nine
Killer sighed. “Sometime around
midday
. It took a while to determine that Red Knot
was missing. We organized a search, and were warned of Winged Blackbird’s
approach. We intercepted the raiders, and it wasn’t too long after that when
Flat Willow called that he’d found Red Knot.”

 
          
“You
saw the girl.” Panther winced and resettled himself, as if his bones were
aching. “How long would you say she’d been dead?”

 
          
Nine
Killer shrugged. “I’d say she died sometime around dawn.”

 
          
The
Panther frowned. “That fits what both High Fox and Rat Willow have told me.”
“Indeed,” Nine Killer agreed. “But, the question remains. Did either of them
tell the truth?”

 
          
Darkness
grayed into dawn, softly illuminating the forest beyond the palisade of
Flat
Pearl
Village
. Here and there, scruffy dogs ambled about,
sniffing at bits of broken pottery. Sun Conch sat with her back against the
side of Rosebud’s house, her war club beside her, watching the tatters of mist
that floated by. A few of the star people still gleamed, but most had closed
their sparkling eyes to sleep.

 
          
Sun
Conch yawned and folded her arms. Restless, she had left The Panther snoring in
his blankets, and come outside to greet the morning. The cold breeze ruffled
the red and blue feathers of her cape and fluttered her long black hair. From
this place, she could survey the entire length of
Flat
Pearl
Village
. A finger of time ago, an old man had
stumbled around the corner of a long house and spilled his night water; then
Copper Thunder and two of his warriors had slipped out of the village with
their bows. To hunt for breakfast, she assumed.

 
          
Sun
Conch tipped her head back to watch a tuft of mist curl over the thatched long
house roof. She had slept poorly. Throughout the night, images of High Fox’s
pleading face had assaulted her. She had never seen him look so pitiable. Who
would he turn to now? Red Knot was dead, and Sun Conch was gone. Was there
anyone left in the world to comfort him? For the first time, High Fox had no
one.