People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) (35 page)

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

BOOK: People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past)
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“Where is he?”
“Dogrib has him in a secret location outside of the camps. He’s under heavy guard.”
Evening Star reluctantly stepped away from him, and Rain Bear folded his arms over his broad chest, as though to protect his heart. “If you went to Fire Village, it might turn ugly.”
“Oh, you have no idea how ugly it might be.”
O
ld Woman Above had left her lodge to carry the fiery ball of the sun into the sky. The dawn was so warm, a man did not even need a cape. Tiny pools of water glistened across Fire Village. Only the most sheltered ledges on the black lava cliff gleamed with frosty rimes.
White Stone had been summoned to Cimmis’s quarters just after morning prayers. The chief had his square jaw clamped, as though preparing for a hand-to-hand stiletto fight. His gray hair hung loose over his shoulders.
“I don’t think you should do this, my Chief,” White Stone said as he strode at Cimmis’s side. “It’s not wise.”
“If Rain Bear has shared his thoughts with anyone besides his council, it’s Dzoo. If I can get anything out of her, it could make all the difference for us.”
“I doubt she’ll tell you anything, unless we torture her. After enough pain anyone will talk.”
“We’re talking about Dzoo. First, I don’t think you could ever get her to talk, no matter how much pain you inflicted on her. Second, if word gets out that we’re torturing her, not only will it play into Rain Bear’s hands, but it might even lead to a revolt among the slaves. Do you understand? She may be the most dangerous woman in the world. Not only will I
not
hurt her, War Chief, I’m going to make her as comfortable as I can.”
White Stone gave Cimmis a disbelieving look as he walked away,
and shook his head before following. By Gutginsa’s bloody spear, didn’t Cimmis understand what kind of woman he was dealing with? While on the trail, Red Dog had related some of the stories people told about Dzoo. His warriors had become so frightened, he wasn’t sure they’d have had the courage to kill her under a direct order.
He glanced away, thinking. At this time of morning the palisade cast a long shadow that stretched halfway across the village. Slaves crouched around the central fire, pounding lupine root. Their haunted eyes followed Cimmis as he passed. White Stone kept his hand braced upon his belted war ax as a reminder to them. Deer Killer, on guard at Dzoo’s door, straightened as they approached. His dark eyes widened. To White Stone’s dismay, he always had a startled look when Cimmis came near him.
“Greetings, Deer Killer,” Cimmis said. “How is our prisoner?”
“I didn’t even hear her move during the night, my Chief.”
Cimmis pulled the door hanging back and ducked inside.
White Stone said, “I thought Wind Scorpion was supposed to relieve you at dawn? Where—”
“You fools!”
Cimmis shouted, and rushed back into the daylight.
“This lodge is empty!”
White Stone gave Deer Killer a murderous look.
“I didn’t do it,
I swear!”
White Stone ducked under the hanging. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the bark container on the far side of the circular structure … but that was all. “It’s impossible! She couldn’t have escaped!”
“There she is!”
Deer Killer shouted.
“Look! Near Ecan’s lodge!”
White Stone scrambled out. “Where?”
Cimmis stood with a hand up to shield his eyes from the morning glare.
Dzoo stood just to the right of Ecan’s lodge, facing the lava cliff. Wind Woman waffled her red dress around her long legs and played with her waist-length braid.
“War Chief!” Deer Killer blurted. “I swear to you I never left my post! Not even for an instant! I …” A curious expression slackened his face. “She must have
flown
out. It’s the only answer! She changed herself into a bird and soared out through the smoke hole!”
White Stone made a face. Flown indeed!
“Silence!” Cimmis ordered. The slaves had started to stand up and follow their gazes.
In a clipped voice, Cimmis said, “Come with me. Both of you.” Then he stalked off across the village with his long gray hair flying.
As White Stone hurried after his chief, he shot a glance over his
shoulder at the horrified Deer Killer. “I’ll deal with you later. Assuming Cimmis doesn’t order your guts boiled first.”
When they reached Dzoo, Cimmis slowed, ordering, “Deer Killer, make certain no one comes close enough to overhear my conversation. Including the Starwatcher.”
“Of course, my Chief.” Deer Killer trotted the two tens of paces to Ecan’s lodge and stood, eyes half glazed with fear, shivers racking his body.
White Stone asked, “And me, my Chief?”
The hem of Cimmis’s blue knee-length shirt fluttered in the breeze. “Keep your warrior company. Perhaps he has some last requests he might wish to make before I deal with him.”
He protested, “But, my Chief, what if she attacks you? Before I could get to you, she might—”
Cimmis’s dark eyes glittered. “I was a warrior for more summers than you have been alive, White Stone. I can protect myself. Go.”
White Stone glanced dubiously at Cimmis’s shriveled left arm and backed away to stand beside Deer Killer.
Deer Killer leaned sideways and whispered, “I’ve never been this terrified in my life! If she could get out of the captives’ lodge, there’s no place we can hold her. She can fly about as she pleases!”
White Stone glumly watched Cimmis walk toward Dzoo. Just beyond the palisade, the lava cliff rose like a rough-hewn black wall. She had her chin tipped up, as though studying the old owl nests that bristled in the clefts.
Assuming Deer Killer hadn’t dozed off or left his post, how had she managed to escape? “Did you ever find the missing ropes? The ones you used to tie her up in Wasp Village?
“No, War Chief.”
“Perhaps she tied them together and used them to climb out of the smoke hole. Did that occur to you?”
Relief made the young warrior’s eyes widen. “Blessed gods, do you think so?”
“Maybe.” He wondered if Cimmis was going to remember Deer Killer’s dereliction, and if so, who would be given the disagreeable task of ending his life?
 
 
D
zoo heard him coming. Her vision of the towering black cliff quivered as his feet struck the ground. Heavy feet, pounding out authority.
He didn’t speak, just took a stand behind her.
She turned and saw what he had become: tall, lanky, with a square jaw. His long gray hair hung over his broad shoulders like a mantle. His eyes were striking—the eyes of a trapped man who sees no way out.
“So,” she said, “you are Chief Cimmis now. It must be difficult for you.”
Cimmis’s eyes narrowed. She saw him look away, trying not to let her see his fear.
I wonder if he plays this game with every person, every moment of his life.
He exhaled. “Are you well, Dzoo? My slaves tell me that Lion Girl is ill. Is her replacement, Dance Fly, properly caring for you?”
“Your slave emptied my waste bowls before they spilled onto the floor again. If that’s what you mean.”
He walked over, close, as though to prove to the people below that he wasn’t afraid. The hem of his blue shirt waffled around his leggings. She watched as he gathered the courage to meet her eyes. To his credit, he didn’t wince when she stared past into his wounded soul.
“I did not order your capture, Dzoo. But you are here, and I cannot just release you. The other North Wind People would kill me for it.You may be a valuable tool—and these days we must use whatever we have.”
“It’s too late, Cimmis. The time of the North Wind People is coming to a close.”
He stared at her as though uncertain. She knew him so well, could read the tracks on his soul the way a hunter read an elk’s trail. She smiled as his warrior’s instinct insisted that she was bluffing.
“They can’t kill all of us, Dzoo, and I assure you those of us who remain will hunt down every last Raven Person who was involved—”
Her laughter came bubbling up from deep inside.
His shoulder muscles tensed.
She shot a glance at his warriors and leaned toward him to whisper, “If you were wise, Cimmis, you would start shedding every vestige of the North Wind People’s way of life: their clothing, their jewelry and mannerisms. Your only hope of survival is to blend into the Raven villages and forget you ever knew anything about your own people.”
His jaw hardened. In that instant she could tell that he wanted a way out, but couldn’t allow himself to take it. The snare that had entangled him was called obligation.
“Dzoo, has Rain Bear managed to bind the refugees into a fighting force? Will they follow him?”
She said, “It will be difficult to disguise your wife, but it can be done. There are many battle victims who have lost their souls. My advice is to run as fast as you can to the northern Cougar People. If she ever starts talking about who she is, just tell them she is not well. Tell them the evil Chief Cimmis killed her entire family before her eyes. So many suffered the same fate. They will believe you.”
His eyes might have been brown chert, hard and shiny. “I can’t believe Rain Bear wishes the destruction of his daughter’s relatives.”
She leaned closer, their faces less than a handsbreadth apart. She watched him lose the battle to pull away, thinking it would shame him before his people. In reply he could only glare.
“Escaping your own people will be the final test. But you know that, don’t you? The North Wind People will never forgive you for saving yourself and your wife. They expect both of you to die for them. To provide cover for their escape.” She shrugged absently. “I will tell you truly, I have not seen that part.”
“But … you have seen the rest?”
“Oh, yes.”
A swallow went down his throat. “Are you telling me you have seen the end?”
“The end is only a fragment. There is much more to fear.”
His teeth ground beneath the thin veneer of flesh.
“If you tell me the entire vision, Dzoo, from start to finish”—he exhaled a shaky breath—“I will set you free.”
“Despite the fact that you will die for it?”
He nodded stiffly. “I give you my oath.”
“Do you know what it’s like to fly, Cimmis?”
“No.”
“Before this is over, you will.” She gestured to the beaten path that led through the middle of Fire Village. “Shall we go?”
“Go?” He squinted unsurely. “Where?”
She toyed with him like a spider tapping a trapped fly with its leg. “You had my old lodge cleaned out, didn’t you? I wish to go home.”
She started down the trail. He said nothing, stunned and motionless.
White Stone cried, “Stay where you are, witch!”
Cimmis hurried to catch up.
White Stone started forward, muscles flexing as he gripped his spear at the ready. “What is she doing out here, my Chief? How did she escape?”
Cimmis bluntly told him, “She is moving to her old lodge, War Chief. I want you to escort her.”
“Her old lodge?” White Stone gestured in disbelief. “Why?”
Cimmis exploded. “Because
I ordered it
! I had it prepared for her. Tell the guards that she is to move about freely.” He shot her a slitted stare. “But if she makes any attempt to get through the palisade, they are to kill her immediately.”
White Stone lowered his spear. “I’ll tell them, but they won’t understand any better than I do.”
Dzoo gave White Stone a teasing smile. “The chief wishes me to be comfortable. Ask yourself why.”
Cimmis rolled his hands into fists, the muscles in his forearms popping and straining.
White Stone glanced at his chief. “Then you must be willing to tell us about Rain Bear’s plans. I am relieved that you’ve come to your—”
“Rain Bear’s plans?” Her laughter was crystalline. “You think Cimmis worries about Rain Bear’s plans?”
Cimmis tried to hide his alarm, making his voice louder, more confident. “White Stone, take Dzoo to her old lodge. She’ll tell you where it is.”

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