People of the Mist (56 page)

 
          
“You
always have the answers, don’t you, old man?”

 
          
“Not
always. But I tend to find them eventually.”

 
          
Copper
Thunder tugged angrily at his copper necklace. “I didn’t kill the girl.” He
made a fist. “But tomorrow you’ll be leaving. My warriors will take you home.” Panther
chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure they will, so long as my ‘home’ is at the bottom of
the
Salt
Water
Bay
. Once out past shore, they could whack me
in the head, weight my body with rocks, and pitch me over the side. When they
return a couple of days later, who is to doubt that they delivered me safe and
sound to my island?”

 
          
Copper
Thunder narrowed an eye, making the tattoos look especially fierce. “You’ve
pushed me as far as I will be pushed.”

 
          
“I
doubt it.” Panther cocked his head. “The mere fact that I’m still upright tells
me just the opposite. Of all the people alive, you want to kill me the most.
You blame me for your father’s death, for your mother’s slavery. That I am
still breathing indicates a weakness on your part. No, Grass Mat, I don’t think
the Independent villages need you nearly as much as you need them. Otherwise, why
would you stay here?”

 
          
“I
warn you, old man …” Panther stepped over to inspect the baskets hanging from
the wall. Some were woven from splits of cedar, some from supple willow, and
others from slender sumac branches. Most contained nuts, dried fruits, and
other foodstuffs that would mold inside a sealed leather sack. “You know, I
could be mistaken.” He turned speculative eyes on Copper Thunder. “You might be
smarter than I thought. You have finally come to understand, haven’t you?”

 
          
“Understand
what?”

 
          
“That
you can’t build a chieftainship here like the ones you so obviously admired
among the Serpent Chiefs. You’ve figured out that you can’t maintain a full
time warrior class, that your warriors have to hunt and fish part time. You
can’t produce the food surplus to support them. The soil won’t grow enough in
this hilly land with its narrow flood plains Like the Independent villages, you
need allies. Yes, you’ve whipped the Mamanatowick’s warriors, and Stone Frog’s
Conoy, too, but you understand now that in the end they will wear you down.
Like sand rubbed on steatite, over time they’ll hollow you out, gut your
forces.”

 
          
“No
one can stand before my warriors!”

 
          
“Maybe
not, not when they are massed for an attack, but the enemy keep coming back,
bleeding you a little nip at a time. It’s like killing mosquitoes with a war
club. If you could just connect, you could squash them all. But all you can do
is flail the humming cloud while they bleed you bit by bit until you’re sucked
dry.”

 
          
Panther
shook his head. “My poor little Grass Mat, still a puffed-up boy with dreams of
greatness, and no way to make them happen.”

 
          
The
Great Tayac’s throat worked, the veins standing out in his neck. “Get out,
Raven!” He seemed to be choked on the words. “Get out of my sight!”

 
          
“As
you wish, Grass Mat, But I’d—”

 
          
“You’ll
never call me that name again! You hear me ?”

 
          
“Names
are transitory things.” Panther shrugged. “One’s as good as another.” He swung
his blanket about his shoulders. “But, as I was saying, I’d take a hard look at
Flat Willow. I think he’s unreliable. Come, Sun Conch, we should see if that
fish is still hot and steaming. Oddly, despite the company here, my appetite
seems to have come back.”

 
          
When
Panther cast a last look over his shoulder, Copper Thunder’s face had turned
purple, contorted. And then Panther was outside, walking through the veils of
snow.

 
          
“Elder,”
Sun Conch whispered. “Why do you do these things?” “What things?”

 
          
“Enrage
him like that. He was ready to kill you!”

 
          
“Sun
Conch, he was ready to kill me the moment he knew I had entered the village. It
is an old thing between us. The issue is not whether he would kill me, but
when. And, as for today, I was perfectly safe.”

 
          
“Safe?”
Sun Conch rushed around to stand before Panther. “He needed but to reach out to
break your neckI”

 
          
“Oh,
but had he done so, everything would have been in ruins for him.”

 
          
“I
don’t understand.”

 
          
“Then
you don’t know the Weroansqua.” He veered around Sun Conch and kept walking.
Sun Conch followed. “You don’t think she’d leave him alone with me, do you? No,
no, my brave young woman. This was a carefully planned event. Copper Thunder
told Hunting Hawk he was going to have it out with me, put me in my place as a
demonstration of his authority. He hoped I would trip myself, say something
that would condemn me as a witch or troublemaker. Grass Mat was never clever at
these things, and he’s no brighter now that he calls himself Copper Thunder.”

 
          
Sun
Conch opened her mouth, then closed it.

 
          
“The
Weroansqua handled that particularly well, don’t you think?” Panther blinked as
the snowflakes caught on his eyelashes.

 
          
“She
did?”

 
          
“Oh,
yes. Hunting Hawk is no one’s fool. She was there the whole time, hidden behind
the mat divider, listening to the entire exchange. That’s why Copper Thunder
couldn’t just kill me. It would look like he was trying to silence me, and that
would have strengthened Hunting Hawk’s position. She’d use the knowledge like a
club against him.”

 
          
Sun
Conch took a deep breath, including a snowflake, and coughed. “You play
dangerous games, Elder.”

 
          
“Yes,
yes, but Sun Conch, I’m too old to live carefully.” Panther proceeded on his
way. In his imagination, he was already picking at a warmly cooked fish.

 
          
Nine
Killer stopped before the door flap of Yellow Net’s long house and called, “It
is your cousin, Nine Killer. Might I speak to you?”

 
          
“Come,
War Chief,” Yellow Net called.

 
          
Nine
Killer ducked through the doorway and stamped the snow from his moccasins. It
took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Pungent smoke filled his
nostrils, along with the smells of cooking corn, boiling walnut milk, and
roasting tuckahoe: the root of the arrow arum. To prepare tuckahoe properly,
the roots needed a long roasting to leach the acids from the pulpy flesh.

 
          
With
a warm smile, Yellow Net rose from her seat behind the main fire. “You are
welcome to my house, War Chief. What can I do for my cousin today?”

 
          
Nine
Killer walked across the matting and slicked snow water from his brow. “I had
hoped to speak with Quick Fawn. Is your daughter here?”

 
          
Yellow
Net studied him with suddenly guarded eyes. She started to say something,
paused, then called out, “Quick Fawn? Would you come here?”

 
          
From
beside the warming fire in the rear, Quick Fawn’s slender figure rose. A loop
of cord hung from her long brown fingers—she had been playing the string game
with her younger brothers and sisters. That game occupied most of the children
when the weather was bad.

 
          
Nine
Killer watched the girl approach, her hair swinging with each step. She wore a
deerskin apron decorated in patterns of shell beads and knotted on the left
hip. A fringed deerskin mantle was fastened over her left shoulder, leaving her
budding right breast bare.

 
          
Quick
Fawn’s face was a mask of apprehension. She lowered her dark eyes, and fumbled
with the string, as if unsure what to do with it.

 
          
In
all of his days as War Chief, Nine Killer had never had trouble with the girl.
Rather, if anything, she seemed to avoid the behavioral snares that her peers
often entangled themselves in. Nine Killer twitched his lips at Yellow Net, and
tilted his head slightly. She read his meaning and left them alone, saying,
“Quick Fawn, keep an eye on the food, please.”

 
          
Nine
Killer seated himself on the matting, gesturing Quick Fawn down beside him. She
sat cautiously, hands clasped around the string in her lap.

 
          
“It’s
a good snow,” Nine Killer told her. “We were lucky to get our catch in before
the storm hit. We filled a canoe with fish yesterday. I think your mother got
some.”

 
          
“Yes,
Elder. We ate several last night.” She sounded subdued.

 
          
Nine
Killer sighed, “Do you know why I’m here?”

 
          
“About
Red Knot?”

 
          
“Yes,
cousin. I need your help.” He studied her, but she didn’t raise her eyes to
look at him.

 
          
“You
were with Red Knot that night. White Otter told me that she left the two of you
alone.”

 
          
Quick
Fawn nodded.

 
          
“Cousin,
please, tell me what you did that night. What she told you. I need to hear
everything, even if it doesn’t seem important. Any little detail might help.”

 
          
Quick
Fawn hesitated, then said, “Elder, she’s dead. Does it make a difference?”

 
          
“I
think it does. You’ve heard the rumors. You know that we almost went to war
with
Three
Myrtle
Village
. It’s a dangerous time for us. If we can
determine who killed Red Knot, the clan might avoid making another mistake.”

 
          
She
nodded reluctantly. “I understand.”

 
          
Nine
Killer steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “I already know that White Otter
slipped out that night. Did you? Did Yellow Net know that you were out?”

 
          
She
sat perfectly still, shoulders slumped. Nine Killer lowered his voice. “What
you tell me will be between us for the moment. I didn’t come here to make
trouble for you and your mother. If you did something really bad, we’ll work it
out between the two of us, all right?”

 
          
Quick
Fawn sucked a breath and nodded.

 
          
Nine
Killer laced his fingers together. “I’ll tell you what I know so far. Red Knot
planned to run away with High Fox. She was to meet him at Oyster Shell Landing,
and from there, they would paddle away. I also know that they had been coupling
despite the fact that she was still a girl. This was by her will, wasn’t it?”

 
          
“Yes,
Elder.”

 
          
“How
long had this been going on?”

 
          
“Since
the weeding last summer. Remember when Hunting Hawk asked our neighbors to come
for a feast? That was when they started.”

 
          
He
frowned thoughtfully. “I see. Did Red Knot tell you about this?”

 
          
“No,
Elder. I… I saw them. I’ was frightened for them. The next day I asked Red Knot
about it. She didn’t seem to care. She wanted to be with him.” Quick Fawn
frowned then, the lines etching her smooth brow. “She really loved him, and he
loved her. They knew it was wrong, but it was like they couldn’t help
themselves.”

 
          
“I
see.”

 
          
“Red
Knot told me that they were going to be together, that High Fox was going to be
great someday, maybe as great as the Mamanatowick… and she would be by his
side.”

           
“Everyone has a right to their
dreams. It must have come as a shock when the Weroansqua promised her to the
Great Tayac.”

           
“I’d never seen anyone so upset.
She told me that she couldn’t say anything, that she was Hunting Hawk’s
granddaughter. She said that nothing would be worse than telling Hunting Hawk
and Shell Comb no. She couldn’t dishonor her clan by refusing. She was trapped,
Elder. It was because everyone expected so much from her. Then, that night,
after her celebratory dance, High Fox asked her to run off. She said she’d
changed her mind, said that after all, she was only Shell Comb’s daughter.”

           
“What did that mean? Shell Comb’s
daughter? Of course she is.” He stared skeptically at the fire, thinking about
Red Knot, and how closely she resembled Shell Comb. Like mother, like daughter?
Did that mean that Red Knot, had she lived, would have tormented some future
War Chief with secret and forbidden desires?

 
          
“You
asked about Red Knot?” Quick Fawn asked in a fragile voice.

 
          
“Yes.
I’m sorry. Go on. What happened that night?” He inclined his head to listen.

 
          
“Red
Knot told me to meet her after the dance was over. So I came back with Mother
and checked on the others. The rest of the family was asleep. Mother was very
tired. I think she was asleep as soon as she lay down. I put wood on the fires
and left. Red Knot was waiting for me. She was very excited. I thought she’d be
exhausted after all the dancing, and sweats, and ceremonies, but she was
bouncing up and down.”

 
          
“Where
was this?”

 
          
“Over
on the far side of the House of the Dead. In the shadows where the light from
the bonfire wouldn’t shine on us.”

 
          
“And
what happened then?”

 
          
“I
asked her what she was so excited about. She told me she was running off with
High Fox. That she was leaving as soon as she could see to find the trail
across the ridge. That she’d meet High Fox at Oyster Shell Landing at dawn.”

 
          
“Did
you think. it was a good idea?”

 
          
“No!”
She gave him a horrified look. “What about Copper Thunder? Her responsibility
to the clan to marry him? When I asked, Red Knot spat and shook her hands out,
like when you have something sticky and loathsome on them. She said that he was
uglier than a puffer fish, and she hated him. That if he crawled on top of her,
she’d throw up.”

 
          
“That
bad?”

 
          
Quick
Fawn gave him a sidelong look, still unsure of herself. “I’d rather couple with
a serpent, myself. He’s enough to make your skin prickle.”

 
          
Nine
Killer raised a warning eyebrow. “White Otter said you were arguing when she
arrived. Was that what you were arguing about?”

 
          
Quick
Fawn took a deep breath. “I told Red Knot that she was crazy, that she and High
Fox would never get away with it. That the Weroansqua would order you and the
warriors to hunt them down. When it was all over she’d still be Copper
Thunder’s wife. Instead of going to him in triumph, she would go in disgrace,
as a prisoner. Elder, I told her the clan would suffer for her actions, that
we’d all pay for her foolishness.”

 
          
“Cousin,
you are beyond your age in wisdom.” He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the
tension. Such foolishness and disobedience. All this trouble because of a young
headstrong woman? How had things gone so wrong in Shell Comb’s daughter? Of all
the freshly made women in the clan, Red Knot should have understood the
profound responsibility that was hers.

 
          
Quick
Fawn shrugged. “She told me I was a foolish child. She said that I’d never
understand the path to greatness. And then she told me something that made no
sense.”

 
          
“And
that was?”

 
          
Quick
Fawn frowned, concentrating as if to get the words right. “She said, “She can
cover her tracks with ashes, if she wants. But this mistake is taking her life
into her own hands.” “

 
          
“What
does that mean?”

 
          
Quick
Fawn shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. “She’ could be the
Weroansqua. Red Knot didn’t say “I am taking my life into my own hands.” That
would make you think she might have been talking about herself.”

 
          
“And
the ashes?”

 
          
“I
don’t know. Do you? Did you burn something for the Weroansqua?”

 
          
Nine
Killer shook his head. “No. I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. We’ve burned
long houses on raids, but not on special orders.”

 
          
“Is
there some adult ritual I don’t know about? Some ceremony where tracks are
covered with ashes? Maybe something in the HuskanawT’

 
          
“No.
Nothing like that.” He paused. ” “She can cover her tracks with ashes, if she
wants. But this mistake is taking her life into her own hands.” That makes no
sense. How can a mistake take her life in her own hands?”

 
          
“I
told you, Elder, I don’t know what she meant, but she sounded very serious
about it.”

 
          
“I
believe you, cousin. Then what happened?”

 
          
“I
asked her one last time, pleaded with her not to run off. I started to tell her
about her duty again, and she cut me off.”

 
          
Quick
Fawn stared hollowly at the steaming pots. From the vacant look, she was
reliving that night. “She got this hurt look in her eyes, Elder. As if she
couldn’t believe I would be telling her this. “I thought you’d be happy for me,
Quick Fawn,” she said. Then she shook her head. “But I guess I’ve misjudged you
just like I’ve misjudged so many others.” “