People of the Earth (100 page)

 
          
 
The evening softened into night, leaving long
shadows to creep across the sandy hills. Out in the sagebrush, two foxes were
yipping sharply in their hunt. Crickets clicked and chirred, and the cool air
carried the spiced aroma of the land.

 
          
 
White Ash and her party had made camp on the
leeward side of a large, stabilized dune. Tall greasewood and sage provided
shelter from the wind and helped to screen the fire. Sleeping would be more
comfortable on the sand than it would have been out on the rocky flats, or on
the clay hardpan.

 
          
 
Weary from worry and lack of sleep, White Ash
pulled the robes over herself and Still Water. Trouble rolled up into a furry
ball and tried to lie on their feet. She pushed him away. Trouble grunted and
studied her with annoyed brown eyes before he padded around to Still Water's
side, snorting and sneezing his disgust before he flopped down again.

 
          
 
The others sat around the low fire built in a
shallow basin they'd scraped out of the sand; sounds of their desultory
conversation drifted on the quiet night. White Ash could hear
Aspen
's musical voice. More than once during the
day, she'd caught the woman's measuring eyes on her. She smiled to herself. You
don't understand because you've never seen Still Water's soul, Aspen. Wind
Runner could never share me with the Dream. His love isn't as generous or as
kind as Still Water's.

 
          
 
When White Ash closed her eyes, she could feel
the threat pouring over the mountains to the north. The final trial approached
on cougar feet.

 
          
 
She took a deep breath, trying to still her
deepening anxiety. Peace wouldn't come. Her turbulent thoughts swirled like
storm clouds through ragged mountains. She relived that terrible eternity as
she stood vigil over Bright Moon's soul-split body. She drifted into that first
Dream, when she'd heard the voice of First Man and felt Bright Moon's passing.
Brave Man's leering face appeared startlingly out of nothingness, eyes glazed
as he wrestled her to the ground and jerked her dress above her hips. His
features shimmered, as if seen through water, and merged into Three Bulls'. Her
body contorted as he drove his manhood into her . . .

 
          
 
White Ash knotted her fists. The death cries
of the White Clay crashed through her. She lived that night again as darting
Wolf warriors sprinted through the camp yelling, whooping, and releasing their
darts. Clubs whistled in frightening arcs before smacking
soddenly
into vulnerable flesh. And above it all, his face outlined in the early morning
clouds, Old Falcon watched with horrified eyes. Blood spilled from his cracked
skull and streamed down his face, filling his eyes. The sunlight caught the
color of the blood and shot crimson rays over the terrible scene.

 
          
 
White Ash called on all the strength she could
muster to drive the vision away. Seek, Singing Stones' ancient voice told her.
And she floated in water, whirling and icy, until Still Water's fingers wrapped
in her hair and pulled her back from eternity. Her soul rose, leaving her limp
body to rise above the floe-packed river. As a bird might, she watched Still
Water struggle with her inert body as he pulled her to shore and made that
agonizing trek to the
hot springs
.

 
          
 
One by one, the images replayed. Her gut
turned as she relived her capture by the Broken Stones and the journey to Brave
Man's camp. She heard Brave Man's gloating voice again as the huge bonfire
raged and the Broken Stones Danced. The Wolf Bundle gleamed bloody in the
light. The skin on her stomach crawled as Brave Man's woman sliced her shirt
open and jerked her pants down. Brave man's weight crushed her against the
robes.

 
          
 
"White Ash?" Still Water demanded
urgently, splintering the memory. "You're shaking."

 
          
 
Still Water. Always arriving at the right
time. She took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Still Water. That's all."

 
          
 
She rolled onto her back in order to see the
glittering stars that had sprouted in the darkening night sky. To the north,
the somber flanks of
Green
Mountain
rose like a blot against the horizon. An
owl hooted, the call lilting over the endless dunes.

 
          
 
"So am I," Still Water
confided—hesitation heavy hi his voice. "But not because of Brave
Man."

 
          
 
White Ash glanced over to where the others had
finally bedded down. Soft whispers came from Wind Runner's robes. He's happy.
She seems worthy of him.

 
          
 
Sage Ghost slept to one side. Throughout the
day, he'd kept to himself, lost in his own thoughts. The other warriors had
followed grimly, forcing themselves to be courageous in the face of a threat
they didn't understand.

 
          
 
"White Ash?" Still Water touched her
pale cheek.

 
          
 
"What?"

 
          
 
"Are you . . . How long has it been since
your last bleeding?"

 
          
 
She turned, staring at him in the darkness.
"My bleeding?”

 
          
 
He let his hand drift gently down her throat
and arm until he could twine his fingers with hers. "It's been two moons,
hasn't it? Bitterbrush thought that . . . well ..."

 
          
 
She started. "You mean Bitterbrush thinks
I'm . . ." Cold understanding washed through her. The morning vomiting,
the weight she seemed to have gained, the curious feeling of change that had
possessed her. She tried to remember her last bleeding—it was so hard to keep
track when there was no menstrual lodge to share with the other women. How long
had it been? Just before they'd stolen the Wolf Bundle? She remembered
gathering and stripping juniper bark for pads, and how scratchy and irritating
they'd been. Yes, that's when . . . just before she and Still Water had begun
to couple.

 
          
 
Frantically, she looked for another answer:
Worry over the Dreaming. The impending conflict with Brave Man. Grief and
apprehension. Doubt of her ability to Dream the One— and return to this world.
All the complications that twisted her life. The constant fear.

 
          
 
She reached down, placed a hand on her belly.
Closing her eyes, she turned within, seeking the truth—and a faint presence
answered her call. White Ash squeezed her eyes closed. "Oh, Blessed
One."

 
          
 
"White Ash?" Still Water's soft
question hung in her ears.

 
          
 
She nodded. "lam."

 
          
 
"What about the Dreaming?" he asked
tenderly. "I mean, can you . . . will it be all right to Dream with our
child in you?"

 
          
 
"I guess we don't have much choice."

 
          
 
She could sense his reluctant acceptance and
his fear for her and the baby. "I guess we don't. But ... I'm sorry. If
I'd thought, I would have never—"

 
          
 
"Still Water? You didn't do it. We did.
I'm happy to have your child. I love you. Love you the way I've never loved
anyone. If I had anyone's child, I'd want it to be yours."

 
          
 
Closing her eyes, she drifted with the One,
noting that Still Water's soul warmed.

 
          
 
"The timing could have been a little
better, though," he admitted, relief in his voice.

 
          
 
"It could have been." She wrapped
her arms around him, hugging him close. "But maybe it's the way it's
supposed to be."

 
          
 
His grip on her tightened. For long moments
they lay like that. She took a deep breath, drawing the scent of his body into
her, as if she could inhale his soul.

 
          
 
After a time, the warm flush began to fade.
She shivered as a subtle change took place. Drifting tendrils—a terrifying
miasma—touched the edge of her being. Warily she sought the edges of the gray
mist, knowing the source. She could feel the presence of Brave Man. Once again
he touched the One, and her body went rigid.

           
 
"What is it?"

 
          
 
"Brave
Man.
He seeks." She gripped a handful of
the supple hides. "He knows ..."

 
          
 
"Knows what?"

 
          
 
"What I feel—just as I can feel him:
strong, reckless, confident of his victory." She shivered hating the
thought that he'd feel her unease, hating his arrogance.

 
          
 
Still Water pulled her closer.

 
          
 
White Ash tried to drown herself in the feel
of his cheek against hers. "How can I destroy him, Still Water? I barely
know how to control the Dream. I know the trap that sucked Singing Stones
in—and it frightens me almost as much as Brave Man's Dream does." She
shook her head. "Singing Stones was so much stronger than I am—and he
..." She hid her face in his loosed black hair.

 
          
 
He rubbed his cheek on the top of her head.
"We'll do it. Just like we stole the Wolf Bundle out from under him."

 
          
 
"Tomorrow, Still Water. The battle is so
soon."

 
          
 
"I know."

 
          
 
She writhed at the knowledge of Brave Man's
Dreaming. "He found the One on his own. Without the help of a Dreamer like
Singing Stones, without the Wolf Bundle. How can I stand against that, Still
Water?" She remembered Singing Stones' face, and even now she could sense
the pulsing of the Wolf Bundle's Power.

 
          
 
"Because you have to."

 
          
 
"We could leave," she whispered,
desperately wishing she could believe it. "Wait until the others are
soundly asleep, then run until we can't be found. We could hide in those
mountains to the south. Those high ones."

 
          
 
She felt Still Water smile against her
forehead. "If I could have any wish, it would be that. But he'd find you,
wouldn't he? Look for you through the One? Follow you?"

 
          
 
Could Brave Man do that? Even if she didn't
Dream? "Probably."

 
          
 
"And Sage Ghost, Wind Runner,
Bitterbrush, and all the rest—they would have to meet Brave Man without a
Dreamer to protect them. We had our chance that day above Singing Stones'
camp."

           
 
"How can you be so brave when I'm so
frightened?"

 
          
 
He chuckled under his breath. "You should
be in here with me. I gave myself up for dead back when I answered the Wolf
Bundle's call. Every day since then has been a gift from the Creator."

 
          
 
She ran fingers down his chest. "I don't
know what I'd do without you, Still Water."

 
          
 
"Probably return to your senses and run
like a frightened antelope."

 
          
 
She laughed softly. "What if we win
tomorrow? What then?"