Read People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) Online

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

People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) (25 page)

“We deceived him once,” White Stone murmured. “It won’t happen again.”

“But why didn’t he just cancel the Moon Ceremonial?”

“How could he? Many of these people have been walking for days. If they’d arrived and discovered the ritual canceled there would have been an uproar.”

White Stone watched two shapely young women walk by. Both carried infants in their arms and had war clubs hanging from their belts.

The taller woman glared at the charred remains of Matron Weedis’s lodge and said, “I pray the gods tear their testicles out of their sacks for what they did here.”

“And feed them to the village dogs,” the other woman added. “The filthy murderers.”

The hatred made White Stone’s gut squirm. He waited until they passed, then whispered, “Keep your head down.”

“I will,” Red Dog managed through gritted teeth, “but Blessed Spirits, if we’re discovered, promise you’ll kill me before the women can get ahold of me.”

They moved into the plaza with the crowd, and White Stone noticed the clothing. He saw faded red capes and holey yellow moccasins, beaded headbands with more than half the beads missing, and old rabbit-fur shawls that looked mangy. No exotic stones or shells sparkled.

“These poor desperate people have worn their best, but it’s worse than the slaves wear in Fire Village.”

Red Dog grunted and whispered, “Makes you wonder what those old women in the Council think these people are hoarding, doesn’t it?”

Evening Star stood on the far side of the plaza and was speaking to an elderly woman. What a stunning beauty she was. Her waist-length hair had been freshly washed and hung over her elkhide cape in thick red waves. She looked pale, weary, and completely enchanting. From the moment he’d first seen her, White Stone had thought her the most attractive woman on earth. What a shame that she’d ended up as Ecan’s toy.

“Let’s work our way up the slope,” he said as a reminder they had a job to do.

White Stone eased through the sea of people and ascended the trail beyond. He climbed onto a rock and stood looking down upon the gathering.

Red Dog climbed next to him. As the crowd eddied, people moved to within a few hands of them. Were they safe here, at the edge? Did the distance and face paint grant them anonymity?

Four rows of people encircled the plaza. Children sat in front, closest to the fire; a boy and girl appeared to be having fights with carved wooden dolls. Behind them, a row of elders sat on hides; then men and women stood behind the elders. Finally, a row of warriors kept watch over the plaza.

The ceremonial would not begin until sunset. That gave White Stone time to just watch. He studied the children sitting around the plaza. He didn’t see Tsauz, but he noticed several children kneeling at the northeastern corner of the village with a big man. His movements were familiar.

“Is that Rain Bear?” He gestured with his chin. Back when Rain Bear had been a warrior in Fire Village, he and Red Dog had been friends.

Red Dog examined the man’s elkhide cape and long black braid. “He moves like Rain Bear, but I can’t tell. What’s he doing? Can you see?”

White Stone climbed higher into the rocks to get a better view of the plaza. “It’s him.”

Rain Bear put an arm around one little boy’s back and pointed to a line of dead dogs that lay on the ground. The boy gestured to several and spoke to Rain Bear, as though identifying them. Another child, a girl with long black hair, stepped forward, crying, and petted one of the animals. Rain Bear smoothed her hair and said something to her. She nodded and ran away.

“What’s he doing?” Red Dog repeated.

“The children are telling him about the dogs that were killed during the battle.”

“Why?”

White Stone rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know.”

Two guards with red headbands walked to within a body’s length of White Stone.

“
When
we catch them, Lynx,” the first man said, “I plan to stake White Stone to the ground, slit open his belly, and boil his guts while he’s still alive.”

White Stone pulled his hood lower and turned away slightly, as though concentrating on the pillars up the slope.

Lynx grinned. “You will have to beat me to it. I plan to cut out his kidneys a little piece at a time and eat them before his eyes. I saw a warrior do that to one of the Cougar People once. It was amazing. Using a white-hot stone to sear the blood vessels, he kept him alive for three days.”

The first guard grunted and scanned the crowd. His gaze fixed on Red Dog. White Stone’s heart felt squeezed. After what seemed an eternity, the two guards moved on.

“Come on,” Red Dog whispered. “Let’s go higher. I don’t like being this close.”

R
ain Bear glanced at Evening Star, then pointed to a black puppy with a white face. It wasn’t dead, but would be soon. Someone had
shoved a spear through its belly. Dirt crusted the blood-caked entrails protruding from the wound. “What about this dog, Wood Quill?”

The little girl twisted the end of her long braid and studied the dog with glistening eyes. “I don’t know this puppy. He didn’t live here.”

Rain Bear patted her back. “Sunfeather told me the same thing. I thank you. You can go back to your grandfather now.”

Wood Quill turned and dashed away through the crowd. When she’d shouldered her way into the ring of elders, she climbed into an old man’s lap.

Rain Bear gazed at the western horizon. Raven had almost finished flying the sun to the sea. Barely a hand of time remained before Sister Moon’s appearance.

A memory floated, that of a little boy with a pack on his back, and the button nose of a puppy barely visible from within. He gently picked up the black puppy with the white face. The beautiful little dog had a pointed nose and spotted ears. It whimpered softly.

Rain Bear petted him. “I know,” he said as he carried the puppy through the plaza and down the trail away from the burned lodges. “I promise I will end this pain for you. Very soon.”

Twenty-six

“
T
sauz?” Rain Bear called. “Tsauz, if you can hear me, I found your puppy!”

Rain Bear carried the dog down the trail away from the burned lodges. All day long, Evening Star had walked the mountaintop with the children, hunting for Ecan’s son. They hadn’t found a single track.

Rain Bear held the little dog close, wondering who had speared it and why. In the heat of battle, a warrior might kill a dog that leaped for his throat, but he wouldn’t waste a spear thrust on a puppy—and none of Ecan’s warriors had stayed long enough after the fight to prepare a meal, so he doubted the little dog had been targeted for food.

Not only that … Rain Bear fingered the dark red paint that encircled the wound. It had come off the spear. The few times he’d seen ground cedar-bark paint, it had been on special ritual tools, consecrated for killing witches. Ordinary warriors wouldn’t touch such things.

Five or six people in Fire Village used cedar-bark paint—Cimmis, the clan elders, and Ecan.

He took the trail through the burned guard post. In the past ten hands of time, snow and ash had been trampled into the mud until they’d formed a dark slimy wallow. The mud sucked at his moccasins
as he walked through. Just beyond the smoldering lodge, he stopped and studied the rocks that rimmed the mountain trail.

“Tsauz? I’m here! Can you hear me?”

Rain Bear gently placed the puppy on a stone with his nose pointed to the north and his furry tail stretched out straight behind him. The puppy whimpered.

Rain Bear stroked his side, and called, “Your little black-and-white puppy is right on the edge of the cliff! He was speared during the battle. He’s dying, Tsauz. If you wish to say good-bye to him, do it now. I promise it is safe for you to come for your friend.”

The guard on the point to Rain Bear’s left turned. Rain Bear lifted a hand, motioning him to silence. The man lifted a hand in return.

An enormous crowd had gathered on the mountain slope between the burned village and the War God pillars, but here, lower on the mountain, and within sight of the charred bodies, he stood alone.

Rain Bear walked to the cliff and crouched down. The bitter fumes of burned wood and scorched hides stung his nose.

Near the pillars, people began Singing the Death Song.

Rain Bear swiveled to look. As Pitch led the procession up the slope at a slow, resolute pace, eight people followed him, carrying the North Wind People’s burial shrouds on their shoulders. Matron Weedis and her son would soon be on their way to the first of the Above Worlds.

Rain Bear propped his war club on his knees and stared out at the ocean. The tide was coming in. The waves had grown violent, battering the shore. He sighed and concentrated on the weariness that numbed his body. He hadn’t slept all the way through a night for three moons. It felt good to just sit and watch the water.

Movement caught his eye.

He sat perfectly still as the boy crawled up from the ledges beneath the cliff and used his hands to feel his way. He had his mouth open, and tears coated his young face. Crying without making a sound.

“Runner?” the boy whispered.

The puppy lifted his head, whimpering through the pain in its little body. When he glimpsed Tsauz, his tail thumped the stone.

Tsauz hurried, patting the ground until he felt the dog’s pointed nose; then he pulled the puppy into his arms.

“I’m sorry, Runner,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I should have hunted for you. I knew I should have. I was just scared.”

He kissed the puppy’s icy ears and held him close. The puppy’s tail wagged again, and Tsauz sobbed against Runner’s furry neck.

Rain Bear waited patiently, his heart heavy at the sight. What kind of creatures were humans that here, in the shadow of terrible atrocity, one little boy could bear so much love for a dog?

“I made something for you,” Tsauz whispered, and drew a prayer stick and six eagle feathers from his belt. “I heard your souls calling to me.”

The sky had turned a pale shade of lavender, and it blushed color into the feathers, making them look like sculpted amethyst.

One by one, Tsauz tucked the eagle feathers into Runner’s ears and slipped two between the toes of his front feet, then two in the toes of his back feet.

Rain Bear had never seen the ritual performed for a dog before. The boy was making certain that Runner could find his way to the North Wind People’s afterlife in the sky. He must have seen his father preparing the dead for the journey.

“I’m sorry I don’t know the Songs, Runner. But when I get home, I will find a Singer to Sing for you. I promise.” Tears flooded his cheeks.

Tsauz gently rested Runner on the stone, then got on his knees and turned toward the pillars. Sister Moon remained hidden, but her gleam cast a bright silver halo around the stone bodies of the twin war gods. Could the boy see it?

Tsauz held the prayer stick to his lips and breathed his prayer into the wood: “Blessed Ancestors, please protect Runner. He’s been a good friend to me.” He placed the stick on Runner’s side and choked out, “I love you, Runner. If you see Father in the Above Worlds, please tell him I’m all right.”

Rain Bear softly said, “Your father is both alive and well, Tsauz.”

Tsauz whirled around, and his blind eyes searched for Rain Bear’s voice. His expression twisted with a powerful mixture of fear and hope. He wet his lips, as though afraid to speak, but he said, “Where is he? Where’s my father?”

Rain Bear slowly walked down the rocky trail. At the sound of his approaching steps, Tsauz started to shake.
“Where’s my father?”

“By now, he should almost be back to Fire Village.”

“Who are you?”

When Rain Bear hesitated, Tsauz let out a muffled shriek, jumped to his feet, and ran.

“No, Tsauz! Don’t run!”

Rain Bear pounded after the boy.

Tsauz charged headlong over the edge of the cliff. His feet
churned air; then his body somersaulted down the steep incline like a thrown rock, striking boulders and old tree stumps. New saplings slapped him in the face and raked at his arms and legs. When he hit a huge fir tree, it knocked the wind out of him.

Rain Bear lunged down the slope after him, ordering, “Lie still! Don’t move. I’m not going to hurt you!”

The boy screamed, stumbled to his feet, and careened down the slope again.

Rain Bear caught up with him and grabbed Tsauz’s flailing arm.

“No, no!”
Tsauz lashed out, striking Rain Bear with his fists. “Let me go!
Let me go!
”

“Stop it! Listen to me!” He knelt in front of Tsauz and grabbed both his arms, holding them tight. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you hear me? I won’t hurt you!”

Dogrib and two other warriors skidded down the slope and surrounded them.

Rain Bear held up a hand to tell them to stay back.

Tsauz cried, “You’re going to kill me! You’re my enemy!”

“Tsauz, please, I’m not your enemy. I wish to help you.”

“Then let me
go home
!” The last word turned into a wail.

“I will … when it’s safe. But for now, please listen to me. I am Rain Bear, chief of Sandy Point Village. After you’ve eaten and warmed yourself before the fire, we will talk about how to get you home.”

The boy’s eyes widened at Rain Bear’s name.

Rain Bear said, “Do you remember me?”

Tsauz swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good. I’m going to give you my oath, Tsauz, that I will not harm you. Nor will I allow anyone to harm you. Do you understand what a chief ’s oath means?”

In a very small voice, he answered, “Yes,” and clutched Rain Bear’s cape tightly. “Please take me home.”

Rain Bear motioned for the warriors to back away and said, “I will, but first I’m going to lead you up to the village and get you a warm blanket and a plate of food; then we will talk if you wish, or you can sleep and we will talk tomorrow. Is that acceptable?”

Tsauz tipped his face up, nervously wet his lips, and whimpered, “Yes, but … could I hold Runner? Please. He’s hurt. He needs me.”

Rain Bear looked at Dogrib. “Bring the puppy to Tsauz. And be gentle. He’s dying.”

“Yes, my Chief.”

Dogrib trotted away.

Tsauz kept his fist twined in Rain Bear’s cape as they started back up the steep slope.

H
allowed gods,” White Stone said to Red Dog. “He has the boy.”

Red Dog spun around to look, and the entire crowd seemed to spin with him. Voices rose, wondering what was happening, asking who the boy was.

It took only instants before the name “Tsauz” hissed through the ceremonial.

Rain Bear removed his cape and slipped it around Tsauz’s narrow shoulders. The boy shivered as though the sudden warmth tingled his souls. Rain Bear was speaking to him. White Stone could see his lips moving, but Tsauz didn’t answer; he just clutched the limp body of his puppy in his arms as they climbed the trail.

Red Dog said, “There’s nothing we can do now. Let’s get out of here! If we try to take the boy, we’ll have ten tens of warriors on our backs beating our brains out with war clubs.”

Red Dog was right, but if they returned without the boy, Ecan might very well order them gutted.

“Let us watch for a time longer,” White Stone said. “We may yet have our chance.”

“Don’t forget those women,” Red Dog reminded.

Gasps of awe went up, and the crowd turned back to the pillars.

A sliver of Sister Moon’s face appeared between the pillars, and light flowed down the mountain in a glistening silver wave. White Stone’s face slackened. The huge dark bodies of the war gods seemed to be guarding Sister Moon as she rose into the evening sky. From all the surrounding high points, signal fires blazed to life, telling people in distant areas that here, at the edge of their world, Sister Moon stood shoulder to shoulder with the War Gods. For these few precious moments, everything was right and good. The gods had not abandoned them.

White Stone could not take his eyes from the sight. Across the slope, people reached out to the person closest to them, touching hands or embracing loved ones. He turned to say something to Red Dog, but found the old warrior gazing down the slope at Rain Bear and the boy.

Tsauz had stopped dead in his tracks. The long shadows cast by
the pillars resembled arms, holding the boy. His upturned face glowed radiantly in the moonglow.

“Look how Sister Moon favors him,” Red Dog whispered. “She seems to be shining directly on him!”

Stunned voices rose. People pointed at Tsauz.

White Stone said, “Dressed in Rain Bear’s cape, he looks like a young war god himself, doesn’t he?”

Red Dog ground his teeth for a time before responding, “Yes, which means they will be watching him like Eagle does Mouse, expecting him to do something gloriously surprising. Which means we’ll never be able to get close to him.” He glanced around, eyes fixing on the two young women with war clubs. “Let’s leave, War Chief! While we still have the chance.”

People descended the mountain trail, slowly at first, then faster, as though each wished to be the first to touch the favored child. It became a mad rush. As Red Dog and White Stone watched, a wall of humanity coalesced around Tsauz. The boy pressed closer to Rain Bear, who drew his war club and used it to shove people back.

White Stone murmured, “You’re right. We’ve lost him. Let’s go.”

“You go first,” Red Dog said. “I will follow in a short while. It will be better if they do not see us leave together.”

“Yes, all right. I’ll meet you in the alder grove at the foot of the mountain.”

Red Dog nodded.

White Stone eased away through the crowd, a tickling fear in his guts.

“Run!”
a voice called from deep in his imagination.