Cry of the Wind (45 page)

The men began to mutter, and Ghaden could hear the fear under their words, the anger. He wanted to block his ears, but he sat very still. Star was here with them. Couldn’t the others tell that? Why draw her attention?

“Do you remember the woman who was Chakliux’s mother?” Take More asked. “She died in that same way—by a knife.”

“Sok’s wife, now dead, did that in trying to escape,” Man Laughing said. “You think she came back to kill Star?”

“Who can say? There are stories about such things,” said Take More.

He looked at Aqamdax, and Ghaden knew Take More wanted her to tell them of such a story, but Ghaden squeezed his eyes shut tight, shouted at Aqamdax in his mind to say nothing, sit still, don’t move.

But even had she wanted to talk, Night Man’s voice rose loud over everyone’s. “Sok’s wife is dead. She did not do this. The dogs would have seen her. We would have heard them. Did anyone hear dogs barking this morning, early, when it was still dark?”

“How would they see her through this storm?” Take More asked.

Night Man ignored him. “You think some spirit did this? No. Someone here in this village killed her.”

“What reason would any of us have to kill her?” Twisted Stalk asked. “She had done nothing to us. We needed her child.” She lifted her chin at Ghaden and Cries-loud, then turned her head toward Yaa and Carries Much, at Squirrel and Black Stick, sitting beside their mother. “Look how few children we have. Can a village survive without children?”

“Perhaps it was one of the Near Rivers,” Take More said. “They hate us.”

“There is that chance,” said Night Man, “but if they wanted to kill our women, why not attack us on our return from the hunting camp? We would have been easy to kill, laden with packs as we were. Or why not attack the village while we were still hunting? Our old women could not have defended themselves. If the Near Rivers wanted to kill or raid our caches, why not come to the village when those caches were full of summer salmon and the old women were here alone?”

He looked at Ligige’. “You were out checking your traplines this morning,” he said. “Did you see anyone?”

Ligige’ roused herself as though she had been asleep through all Night Man’s yelling. Her voice was thick and her words difficult to understand. “After I left my traplines, I saw nothing but my own dog,” she said slowly, “then the dog Snow Hawk and these dead ones.”

Night Man squinted at her. “You saw nothing but two dogs, your own and Snow Hawk. Snow Hawk is Sok’s dog, nae?”

“Sok’s or Chakliux’s,” Ligige’ answered. “I am not sure whose.”

“Sok’s,” Aqamdax said quietly, and Ghaden sucked in his breath, shook his head at her, but she did not notice him.

“Sok is away, but you live in his lodge,” Night Man said to Aqamdax.

“Be quiet, be quiet,” Ghaden moaned under his breath. “Be quiet, Aqamdax. Star will hear you. She will steal your eyes.”

But Aqamdax answered, her voice clear, her words loud. “Yes, I live there with my husband and Sok’s sons. I take care of their dogs.”

“You let Snow Hawk go this morning? You let her out into the storm?”

“No. She chewed through her tie. I did not even know she was gone until you and Ligige’ brought her back.”

Night Man nodded, then turned to Ligige’. “You went out into the storm, Aunt,” he said. “Why?”

“To check my traps. An old woman will not live through the winter if she does not help feed herself.”

“But you took a dog with you. Do you usually take a dog when you check your traps?”

“No. But I needed his eyes in this storm. And if I got lost, I knew he would keep me warm until the storm cleared.”

“Do you think most people would take a dog with them if they had to go out into a storm?” Night Man asked.

Ligige’ narrowed her eyes. “I know only what I would do,” she said. “How can I tell you what others might do?” She flipped one hand toward the circle of people in the lodge. “You should ask them, not me.”

Ghaden watched Night Man, saw he was angry at Ligige’. Why? She had found Star, but why be angry about that? Someone had to find her.

“Twisted Stalk,” Night Man said, “would you take a dog?”

“I would not go out,” said Twisted Stalk. “Not in a storm.”

“If you had to. If you had no choice,” Night Man persisted.

Twisted Stalk shrugged. “I might. How do I know what I would do?”

“I would take a dog,” Take More said. “And I think most people would.”

Night Man smiled, but it was not a smile of happiness. Ghaden felt his legs begin to tremble, and he had to hold his arms tight around himself to stay still.

“Perhaps Snow Hawk did not go by herself to the women’s place,” Night Man said. “Why would a dog go out into the storm?” He lifted his head toward Cries-loud. “Where is the dog?” he asked.

“I tied her again at our lodge,” Cries-loud said, and Ghaden, sitting beside him, felt Cries-loud begin to shake.

“Go get her.”

“It is enough that you ask us all to come to your lodge in this storm,” Ligige’ said. “Now you want this boy to risk the storm alone? Do you ask him to do such a thing because his father is not here to defend him or because he is Near River? If you want the dog, go get her yourself.”

“Who are you, old woman, to tell me what to do?” Night Man asked. “Who are you, a woman of the Near River Village, to speak to a hunter of the Cousin People in such a way?”

“Who are you, a man who sits all day feeling sorry for himself, to show such disrespect for an elder?” Ligige’ retorted. She lifted the hare still hung at her waist, then the wolverine. “At least I bring in meat.”

Several of the hunters hissed at her, and the women covered their mouths.

“You speak boldly for an old woman who has no one here in this village who belongs to you. Have you forgotten that your nephews have left us?” He lifted his hand toward the top of the lodge. “You hear the wind. Who knows whether they will return?”

“Pray your words stay in this lodge,” Aqamdax said. “What will we do in this village without them?”

Then, to Ghaden’s amazement, Night Man tilted back his head and began to laugh. It was not a good laugh. Biter began to whine, and again Ghaden clamped his hand over the dog’s muzzle.

Suddenly Aqamdax stood. “Since you yourself are afraid of the storm,” she said to Night Man, “I will get Snow Hawk for you.”

Ghaden waited, thinking Night Man would go, but he did not move. Aqamdax handed the baby to Ligige’ and pulled up her parka hood.

“Biter and I will go with you,” Ghaden said, and did not care if his sudden words brought Star’s attention. She was a lazy one and even as spirit would not want to follow them into the storm.

“You will stay here,” said Night Man.

Ghaden looked at him in surprise. Why would he care what Ghaden did?

As though Night Man knew Ghaden’s thoughts, he said, “My dead sister took you in as son. Now you are mine.”

Then Yaa was on her feet. “We do not belong to you. Now your sister is dead, we belong to our sister, Aqamdax. We do what she says.”

Aqamdax raised her eyes to Night Man’s face. “Ghaden, you stay here,” she said. “But I would be glad to have Biter go with me.”

Ghaden took his dog to Aqamdax and watched as they left the lodge. Then he sat down beside Cries-loud and listened as Night Man spoke. Night Man’s words were filled with tears as he talked about his sister, but gradually the crying left his voice, and Ghaden realized he was not talking about Star or the one who killed her but about the Near River People, and about those who had died in the fighting. He spoke about the Cousin men who had given their lives, the Cousin women who still lived in the Near River Village, lost to their families. He spoke of burned lodges and empty caches. He spoke about revenge.

Chapter Fifty-one

A
QAMDAX AND BITER RETURNED
with Snow Hawk, both dogs whining as they walked back to Night Man’s lodge. The wind had shifted again and now blew from the south. A good sign. The worst storms often began with a wind coming from the east, changing gradually to north and then west.

Biter nosed his way past the outer doorflap of Star’s lodge, and Aqamdax pushed Snow Hawk into the entrance tunnel. Snow Hawk snapped at her, but Aqamdax spoke in a soft voice. From the time Snow Hawk was a pup, she had been trained to stay outside. Aqamdax, her hand on Snow Hawk’s back, could feel the low rumble of the dog’s growling and knew she was frightened, forced into the dark, low entrance tunnel of someone’s lodge.

As Aqamdax removed her snowshoes, she heard Night Man’s voice coming from inside. His words were harsh and loud, filled with hatred. A fool that one, she thought, but still she understood his anger. Someone had killed his sister. In considering all the people living in the village, Aqamdax could not imagine any of them doing such a thing.

But then, it had been difficult to believe Red Leaf had killed people, had continued that killing, even taking Day Woman’s life. So perhaps Red Leaf had not died. Perhaps she had been able to stay alive, and she had killed Star. But why?

Aqamdax could imagine K’os doing such a thing, but K’os would kill more subtly. A woman who knew plants like K’os did would use some poison like baneberry. Perhaps Awl was right. Aqamdax had heard her whispering of nuhu’anh. The First Men had no stories of nuhu’anh, but Aqamdax had heard Chakliux’s tales of those wild ones, giants who lived by eating other men.

Biter pawed at the weighted doorflap, and Aqamdax pulled it aside. He trotted in, stepped over several people until he found Ghaden, shook his wet fur, then lay down beside the boy. Snow Hawk set her feet, and Aqamdax had to pull her into the lodge.

“She has not been inside much,” Aqamdax said, though the explanation was unnecessary. Aqamdax tucked her legs under herself and knelt beside Snow Hawk, one hand on the dog’s back.

“You say she chewed off her tie strap?” Night Man asked.

Aqamdax nodded.

Night Man lifted his chin toward the strap dangling from Snow Hawk’s neck. “It does not look chewed,” he said.

“I put a new one on her.” Aqamdax lifted the strap. She had found it in Sok’s supplies. It was dark with age, but wide and strong, a braid of spruce root.

“It looks old,” said Night Man, then came around the hearth fire to squat in front of Aqamdax and the dog. He lifted the strap. Snow Hawk growled.

“Yes,” Aqamdax said. “I found it in one of Sok’s packs.”

“It has not been chewed,” Night Man said, holding the end of the strap so others could see.

“No. It has not.”

He leaned in quickly, then, ran his hands over Snow Hawk’s belly. She jumped back, bared her teeth, barked. Aqamdax grabbed her collar.

“I am not strong enough to hold her if she decides to attack you,” she told Night Man.

“If she attacks me, I will kill her. She should have been killed long ago.” Night Man slipped a knife from its scabbard.

“Then be prepared to give Sok one of yours, and pups to replace those she carries in her belly.”

“You are so loyal to a man who once threw you away?” Night Man asked.

“I believe in doing what is right. A dog for a dog.”

“You believe such a thing,” he said. “That is something your people teach? A dog given for one taken?” His smile chilled her. “Perhaps you also believe a child for a child,” he said, and suddenly she understood what he was trying to do.

“I did not kill Star,” she said, then regretted her words. Why put that idea into the minds of those who listened? Who did she have among them to defend her? Only Ghaden, only Yaa and Cries-loud, and they were children. Perhaps Ligige’, but who could say?

Night Man pointed his knife at Snow Hawk. Again she growled. “Life for life,” he said, and raised his knife as though to throw it.

Aqamdax slipped the tie strap from Snow Hawk’s neck, lifted the doorflap and pushed the dog out. “Go!” she cried, and blocked the entrance tunnel until Snow Hawk had run out into the storm.

“Life for life, Aqamdax,” Night Man said. “You killed Star’s child because of your son.”

THE FOUR RIVERS VILLAGE

K’os was startled when Red Leaf came into her lodge. In the supplies River Ice Dancer had brought back from the Near River Village, K’os had found several small drawstring bags filled with beads; some were common, made of birdbone, but others had been cut from shell and wood and polished. She had dumped them out on a caribou hide floor mat in front of herself, was playing with designs.

She glanced at Red Leaf, then jerked her chin toward the beads. “From my husband,” she said. “I am making a pattern for one of my parkas.”

“Better you should make it for him,” Red Leaf said. She lifted the bundle of furs she had in her arms. “I brought the furs. I decided it was best to take the poison now before I lose my courage.”

K’os went to her medicine bag and took out the bound packet. “I will make you a tea,” she said to Red Leaf, but Red Leaf shook her head.

“Do not worry,” K’os told her, “you will not die here. I will make it weak so it takes a little time before the sickness comes.”

Red Leaf held out a trembling hand. “Let me take it to my own lodge. I left my daughter there and I must get back to her.”

“You think I am fool enough to let you have the poison?” K’os asked her. “How do I know what you will do with it? You might try to poison Cen or my own husband.”

“Come with me, then,” Red Leaf said. “I cannot be gone any longer from my daughter.”

K’os laughed. “Your husband is away?”

“Hunting,” Red Leaf said. “He will be back by night, he told me.”

“That is good,” K’os said. “You should not have to suffer without your husband near.” K’os smiled in derision and handed Red Leaf the small packet, tied in four knots with red-dyed sinew. She got her parka, pulled on boots, outside leggings. “Well, you and I, we will have a nice visit,” she said, then she picked up her knife from where it lay beside the hearth, slipped it from its scabbard and held the blade in the smoke rising from the fire.

“A reminder for the spirits to protect me,” she said to Red Leaf, then strapped the scabbard to her leg as though she were a man and followed Red Leaf outside.