The People of the Black Sun (55 page)

… And I wait.

I wait for a voice. For a child to cry out. I have heard that suffocating little boy's voice so many times in my nightmares.

Hoarse breath tears my lungs.

It's growing darker as Elder Brother Sun flies farther and farther away, but I can't hold my arms up any longer. As I lower them to my sides, tears trickle from my wounded eyes and flow down my face.

Hiyawento suddenly shouts,
“Look!”

My heart seems to stop when a blinding crescent of Elder Brother Sun's face reappears. As he steps from the abyss, white veils flutter, pouring down from the heavens. A man yells,
“Elder Brother Sun is turning his face back to the world!”

I see it. The light in the darkness shines.

Something cold strikes my face.

Snow. Snow drifting down. Spinning flakes flash and dance around me like tumbling petals of pure light.

“Odion?” Hiyawento points.

The gates of Bur Oak Village are thrown open. People rush out carrying clan flags. As the carriers weave across the meadow, cheering at the tops of their lungs, their lines furl and unfurl like dark tines raking through a sea of white.

Hiyawento reverently whispers, “I finally understand. Gods, Odion, I understand.”

From the southern hills beyond the old sunflower fields, women, children, and elders flood down the slopes and onto the battlefield. Sobs of joy and cheers shred the cold air. I know that accent. They are Landing People.

As my knees shudder, and give way, my vision sparkles.

Both Baji and Hiyawento lunge to grab me, but I fall … and fall … landing without a word in the glistening blanket of newfallen snow.

 

Fifty-nine

That night, Baji sat around a campfire to the east of Bur Oak Village, listening to the stunningly beautiful cries echoing across the moonlit hills. It was as though the very fabric of the air was woven of long drawn-out howls, melodic hooting, and the shrill calls of plummeting eagles. For the first time since Atotarho's ambush on her war party, the cries were unbearable. They created an ache of longing in her soul like nothing she had ever known, and she knew at last that such beauty could not possibly exist in this world.

She looked around the fire. The most important people in her life were here—except for Cord, Jigonsaseh, and Zateri. As they talked, her heart thumped painfully. To her right, next to the warm flames, Dekanawida lay on a litter beneath a pile of hides. Jigonsaseh had ordered that he be taken to one of the warm longhouses, but he had refused, saying he had to be out among the people where they could see him and know that he had not been killed.

For many hands of time, the line of awestruck people had passed by him, reverently looking down, whispering gratefully to him, then moving on to allow others to see.

Finally, at dusk, they'd gathered in the meadow below, where they danced around dozens of great fires, singing and laughing with joy. Scents of roasting venison and acorn bread wafted on the cold breeze. It was as though not a single person doubted the war was over, and with the burden gone, their happiness overflowed. Most of their songs were about the Creator and Sky Woman. Rumors had already begun to filter across the camps that Dekanawida was the returned soul of Sapling, and Jigonsaseh was Sky Woman herself. Within a moon, Baji suspected everyone south of Skanodario Lake would believe it … and even unknown peoples far beyond.

She looked down at Dekanawida's swollen face. In the firelight, the purple bruises had a bluish-orange tint. It comforted her to see him. He was still here. Still alive … after all the horrors they had lived through together. If only she could lie at his side with her arms around him, watching his breath rise and fall, absorbing every small movement of his body, while the long summers etched the lines deeper into his face, her life would be perfect. During the long periods when they had not seen each other—she had lived in fear that he would vanish as her parents and sisters had vanished. The terror had tormented her dreams.

And now … now …

She reached beneath his hides to squeeze his warm hand, and sighed.

Across the fire, Towa and Sindak carried on a quiet conversation with Gonda and Hiyawento. To Gonda's left, Tutelo listened. Occasionally, Tutelo's young daughters asked her some question. Baji barely noticed when a messenger arrived from the darkness requesting to speak with Sindak, and he rose and walked away.

She concentrated on stroking Dekanawida's hand. He'd been drifting from consciousness to unconsciousness throughout the night. Each time he opened his milky eye, he gave her a faint smile, and glanced down to make certain that Gitchi still slept on the soft blanket at the bottom of his litter. The old wolf always wagged his tail when Dekanawida woke and looked at him. As Dekanawida sank into sleep again, Gitchi's luminous gaze returned to Baji, and his heart shone out of his eyes, as hers did when she looked at him.

Sindak returned to the fire, and said, “That messenger was from the Ruling Council of the reunited Hills nation. They ordered Negano to use his forces to help us. He was so thankful I thought he was going to faint. His warriors now consider him a great hero.”

Gonda replied, “I'm sure he thought he was going to be executed as a traitor … along with you.”

“He wasn't the only one who thought that,” Sindak replied. “Gods, I hope the Landing People join us.”

Towa's long braid sawed across his cape as he turned to stare at Sindak in disbelief. “Are you joking? Of course, they will join us. Look at the Landing People below! Once Sky Messenger's followers return to Shookas Village and tell their stories of what happened today, how can they refuse?”

Sindak paused as though wondering. “Do you think the same will be true of the Mountain People?”

There was a moment of rustling shirts and shifting feet as they all turned to look northward to where Chief Atotarho and Chief Wenisa were being held in a heavily guarded camp. A small spruce-bough structure had been thrown up beside a campfire. Guards passed back and forth in front of the flames.

Gonda said, “I know Sky Messenger ordered that we release both chiefs, but I plan to spend some time talking to them before we do that.”

Towa added, “I'm no longer worried about Atotarho. High Matron Zateri and the Ruling Council will tend to him. But Wenisa is another question, I—”

“He won't be a problem,” Hiyawento said. His eyes still glistened. A strange peace had come over him. “It will be the same thing as with the Landing People. By the time he gets back to his village, his warriors will have been there for a full day telling their stories. The Mountain People's Ruling Council will have already made up its mind.”

They all went silent, staring at the fire. Tutelo's youngest daughter, perhaps five summers, whispered something to her, and Tutelo kissed the little girl's head and hugged her.

“Baji?” Dekanawida breathed her name, and exhaled a shallow breath.

“I'm right here. I've been here all along.” Baji laced her fingers with his, and a sensation of contentment filtered through her. He weakly squeezed her hand back.

“… I know.”

Hiyawento saw them speaking, and said, “Baji, ask Sky Messenger if he's hungry or thirsty. We have plenty…”

A commotion suddenly rose from below. People ran across the meadow, and the singing stopped. Curious voices rose to replace it. Someone shouted. From the east, a large party, perhaps five hundred warriors, trotted into the firelight. Near the front, four warriors carried a man on a litter.

“Is that Chief Cord?” Hiyawento asked.

Baji's gaze longingly clung to her father as he was carried toward Bur Oak Village.

Gonda said, “Yes, it's the Flint war party. Let's go greet them. The Ruling Council is going to ask Cord to address the entire village.”

He'll tell the story of the ambush at Rocky Meadows.

Baji's hands trembled.

Out in the trees the lonesome howls and the drumming of partridge wings were growing stronger, getting closer. Somewhere very near, just beyond the circle of firelight, deer hooves crackled through piles of old leaves, kneading the ground as though anxious to be on their way.

Dekanawida seemed to sense her tension. He opened his right eye, and peered up at her through the milky haze. As she leaned over him, making sure he could see her, her long black hair tumbled around his face. In the firelight, his eyes had a sheen like tears. “Not yet … please … stay?”

She blinked down through suddenly blurry eyes. “Do you hear them?”

“I've heard them … off and on … all day.”

Baji's throat ached as she bent down to press her lips to his.

Across the fire, Sindak and Towa rose to their feet. Through her hazy vision, they seemed to swim in the firelight. Gonda, Tutelo, and her daughters rose as well. Their gazes remained on the Flint war party, studying it as it wound through the camps. Cord's litter-bearers carried him through the Bur Oak gates, where he disappeared.

“We'll meet you there,” Gonda said. He and Tutelo, with children trailing behind them, started down the hill toward the village.

Sindak said, “Towa, why don't you take the bottom of Sky Messenger's litter. I'll grab the top.”

They walked forward, and Baji backed away. They carefully lifted the litter and started to carry it down to the village.

“Wait … wait!” Dekanawida's hand extended from beneath the hides, blindly reaching for Baji.

Hiyawento came around the fire, frowning. “What's wrong?”

Sindak and Towa had confused looks on their faces, but they stopped. Baji walked forward, grasped his hand between both of her palms, and squeezed hard. “I'm still here.”

He forced his left eye open a slit to look at her with both eyes. She'd seen that same look the night they'd been rescued outside of Bog Willow Village. Koracoo had told Odion that Wrass would not be meeting them at Fire Cherry Camp, as he'd promised, because he'd been recaptured by Gannajero. Odion's high-pitched little boy scream of
“No!”
still rang in Baji's ears.

He whispered, “I'm sorry … I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved me so many times.”

“… kept you … too long.”

“No, no, you didn't.”

Hiyawento walked around the litter to stand beside Baji and gaze into her eyes. “What's he talking about?”

“He's delirious. That's all. His fever is very high.”

Sindak shifted the weight of the litter, indicating they were ready to head back to the village.

Baji squeezed Dekanawida's hand one last time and bent to whisper in his ear, “I'll see you soon,” then she kissed him and forced herself to back away from the litter.

Hiyawento gave her a strange look. “Coming, Baji?”

“I'll be along shortly. Tell my father not to worry about me. Tell him I'm all right.”

Hiyawento nodded and followed several paces behind Sindak and Towa as they started down the slope.

In ten heartbeats, Baji was alone. She watched Dekanawida's litter travel through the middle of the celebration. As he passed, people gently ran their hands down the side-rails, or reverently touched his blankets. Several fell into line behind the litter and followed it through the Bur Oak gates into the village.

She didn't realize until he nosed her hand that Gitchi had remained at her side. Baji looked down and found the old wolf gazing up at her with hurt yellow eyes. As she scratched his ears, Gitchi sat on his haunches and leaned heavily against her leg, as though he would never leave her.

“Want to run with me for a little way?”

Gitchi stood up, hesitantly turned to look at the village, at the place where Dekanawida had been taken, then whined.

They started out at a slow pace, trotting through the camps until they hit the trail that led westward. In swift silence they wound through the snowy woods, their footsteps barely audible. Shining owl eyes watched them, and wolves yipped when they glimpsed them passing through the striped moon-shadows.

Every step increased the mysterious euphoria that possessed her.

On the opposite side of the valley, the forest grew thicker, the trees taller, and frozen acorns scattered the trail like small rocks. She was wildly happy, running with Gitchi faithfully loping at her side.

When she crested the hill, a herd of four deer, all bucks, came into view idly grazing in the silvered gleam. Their antlers shone when they lifted their heads to look up at Baji and Gitchi.

She studied them, only mildly afraid, then knelt beside Gitchi to stare into his beautiful old face. Rings of white hair encircled his worried eyes. She hugged his big body against her chest, and held him for a long time, stroking his back. “I suspect I'll see you first. I'll be waiting for you at the bridge, old friend.”

When she released him and rose, she pointed to Bur Oak Village. “Now. Go find Dekanawida.”