People of the Earth (74 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

BOOK: People of the Earth
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When I can Dream the golden haze, nothing will
stop me. He tapped callused fingers on his good knee. And you can't stop me,
Wolf Bundle. Not you . . . not your one-armed man.

 
          
 
Pale Raven's glance didn't register with him
as he brooded.

 
          
 
Who was the one-armed man? What Power did he
possess?

 
          
 
The one-armed man had stepped out of the
lodge. Had he been an apparition conjured among the bundles that had hung from
the lodge poles?

 
          
 
Upon dispatching his warriors after White Ash,
Brave Man had ordered the lodge burned—and with it, all of those terrible
sources of Wolf Power. Then he'd curled up on the robes, tucking his head in
his arms to protect himself from the screaming as his soul fought to maintain
its hold on his suffering body. Through those long four days, Pale Raven had
sat beside him, telling others that he fought a battle far beyond in the Camp
of the Dead.

 
          
 
How had he managed to find such a woman? Had
his Power directed him to her?

 
          
 
The fire crackled merrily as Pale Raven used
sticks in the fashion of large tweezers to lift hot stones from the embers and
drop them into the paunch of stew. The stones carried the heat of the coals and
would bring the stew to a boil.

 
          
 
I will find the one-armed man. And when I do,
he will know the Power of Brave Man. Brave Man knotted the necklace where he'd
broken the thong and placed it around his neck—a symbol of that promise. Then
he pulled the carved-stone wolf effigy from his pouch and studied it. The hard
black stone had been shaped through hours of laborious work and polished with
fine sand and leather until it gleamed in the light. Not much bigger than a fir
cone, it fit coolly in the palm of his hand.

 
          
 
Pale Raven's expression was guarded as she
watched him. The light caught the curves of her stately face, accenting the
soft swell of her cheeks and the lines of her thin nose.

 
          
 
"Thinking about White Ash again?"
she asked.

 
          
 
"I will have her in the end. I can feel
it. Power will bring us together." He gave the wolf carving a careful
scrutiny. Did it carry more Power than just the soul of the craftsman who had
made it? I should throw it away.

 
          
 
"And this one-armed man?" She raised
a questioning eyebrow.

 
          
 
"He will die very slowly. A Trader once
told a story about the Swamp People. If a man is accused of evil Power, they
cut a slit in his belly and pull out a length of intestine. Then they bind his
arms and legs behind him and hang him over water so the fish pull out his guts
a bit at a time." He glanced at her. "Imagine a man hung like that
over a badger hole."

 
          
 
Her eyes hardened until they glittered and she
looked away.

 
          
 
The open lodge flap admitted cool air and the
smells of pine and fir and verdant grass, the aroma of meat roasting, and the
slightly acrid odor of tanning hides.

 
          
 
Outside, in the lengthening blue of evening,
children called to each other, screaming and laughing as they played a game
that involved a lot of chasing. The camp dogs yipped and barked in
accompaniment.

 
          
 
"Soul Flier?" a voice called from
outside. "Flying Hawk would see you."

 
          
 
"Come in." Brave Man placed the
polished statue of the wolf to one side and hitched his stiff leg around as the
war leader ducked inside.

 
          
 
Flying Hawk nodded to Pale Raven and seated
himself cross-legged on a mountain-sheep hide in the guest's spot.

 
          
 
Brave Man dug into his pouch and produced a
stone pipe that he filled with
kinnikinnick
and lit
with a twig from the fire. He puffed twice and handed it to Flying Hawk. After
the other had shared Brave Man's hospitality, he handed the pipe back.

 
          
 
t4 I didn't think I'd see you for a while
yet," Brave Man began. "Has something happened?"

 
          
 
A wry smile twisted Flying Hawk's lips.
"I didn't think I'd be back. Yes, something's happened. Hunting Wolf
People has turned into a poor pastime."

 
          
 
"Oh?"

 
          
 
Flying Hawk spread his hands. "They've
gone. All but a foolish few who remained."

 
          
 
"Gone?"

 
          
 
Flying Hawk scratched at his ear. "Fat
Elk has taken a party to follow them—just to make sure. But I think they've
left. For good."

 
          
 
"Tell me from the beginning."

 
          
 
The war leader thought for a second, then
related, "The Wolf People had gathered in the foothills east of the
mountains. Before I led the warriors down to drive them off, I thought I should
scour the timber—make sure none had slipped past us. The scouts reported that
the Wolf People under the mountain were holding a large council. In the
meantime, we hunted the timber and studied the places where men would camp. We
scouted for any sign of Wolf warriors passing in secret—and found nothing.
Assured that no enemy could ambush us, I gathered the men and led them down to
attack the Wolf People at the foot of the mountains. A blood-red sandstone wall
rises there like a barricade to the plains. That's when we encountered the
foolish ones who had come back to fight us."

 
          
 
"And what happened?"

 
          
 
"Their blood has mixed with the soil.
Their souls prowl around their bones now." Flying Hawk stared pensively at
the smoke hole overhead. "But the others . . . By the time we got down the
mountain, they'd left. They headed east across the plains."

 
          
 
"East?" Brave Man considered.
"What would they have found there?"

 
          
 
"Nothing." Flying Hawk made the
gesture of negation. "Only rolling short-grass plains and a lot of
buffalo. The animals didn't seem very nervous when we hunted a few to feed
ourselves. When bad times come, we can go hunt there again."

 
          
 
Brave Man lifted an eyebrow. "Do you
remember the wind when we hunted north of the Fat Beaver? Endless wind. It
tried to rip a man's soul from his body. There are better places to winter than
on the open plains."

 
          
 
"So we'll go to the Fat Beaver when cold
weather comes?"

 
          
 
Brave Man tapped restless fingers on his stiff
knee. "There is another basin to the south. We'll go there."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk frowned. "Farther from our
lands?"

 
          
 
"Our lands? War leader, our lands are
wherever we make them. No, we are called to the south. The Dreams keep pulling
me. I can't see all of it yet." His voice lowered to a whisper. "But
we'll be great. Greater than you can Dream."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk shot an uncertain glance at Pale
Raven. She stared back, challenging. The glow of the fire lit her face from
below, casting hollow shadows over her features.

 
          
 
The war leader took a deep breath and nodded.
"You've led us well, Soul Flier. I'll go where you Dream. It will mean
there is no Gathering. Some are already—"

 
          
 
"There will be no Gathering this year.
And perhaps never again."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk shifted uneasily. "But the
clan rules ..."

 
          
 
Brave Man laughed and leaned back to prop
himself on an elbow. He let his gaze roam over the stacked
parfleches
that lined the sides of the lodge, the thick pile of rich robes he and Pale
Raven slept on. The firelight gleamed on the long, silvered hair of a grizzly
hide.

 
          
 
"Ah, I know." Brave Man glanced at
Flying Hawk. "You're worried about who will marry who without causing
incest. Women are everywhere, my friend. How many of your warriors took Wolf
women for themselves?" A pause. "Perhaps a warrior in this very
lodge?"

 
          
 
"Many did. Yes, and so did I—for all the
use I've gotten of her so far. But ... we are all born of the Sun. Thunder-bird
breathed life into us when he made us out of clay. We cannot forget who we
are."

 
          
 
"We won't forget. Not as long as we have
Power—and brave darts to back it." Brave Man inspected his thumb before
looking up. "And what of our ties to the clans? We are living a new way
now. Power fills us. You remember the way the Traders talked about the Wolf
People? They said the Wolf People made terrible enemies and we'd cry on the
corpses of our dead if we fought against them. Where do we camp today? Who
challenges our right to these mountains? Where are the Wolf People? Fleeing
east, into the plains to be blown away by the wind."

 
          
 
"I hear your words, Soul Flier."
Flying Hawk narrowed his eyes. "And I like what you say."

 
          
 
Brave Man clenched a fist, watching the
muscles flex in his forearm. "We no longer need the clans. What can they
give us we don't already have? When the winter falls upon us, I'll lead those
who follow south. The others, they can do as they wish."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk
steepled
his fingers, thinking. "The Earth People live south of these mountains. We
can take their women, too." A speculative glint came to his eye. "A
man can make himself great in the shadow of your Dreams, Soul Flier. Perhaps
greater than any other warrior the Broken Stones have ever known."

 
          
 
Brave Man laughed. Yes, you see, don't you, my
friend? You see what a man can aspire to under my leadership. "And it will
get better. I have seen glimpses of a new way. Think, Flying Hawk, think of
taking not only women, but men, too. Imagine gaining so much Power that others
will do all the work for you. It can happen. We can Dream it to be."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk cocked his head, then slapped hands
to his knees. "I'll come and see you in the morning. We can talk more
then. I just wanted to let you know that the threat of the Wolf People has
vanished."

           
 
"Like mist on a sunny morning.'*

 
          
 
"Just like that." Flying Hawk
chuckled. "My wife, Two Roses, has roasted a leg of mountain sheep. I
think I had better go stuff myself with some of it. I haven't seen her for more
than a moon. Perhaps my Spirit will see fit to plant another child in her—and
in the Wolf woman, too. If I can keep her from scratching my eyes out, that
is."

 
          
 
"Go. Bear my greetings to Two Roses—and
to your new Wolf woman."

 
          
 
Flying Hawk stood. "I doubt that my new
woman would care for your greetings, Soul Flier. I wonder if Two Roses has
taught her to talk like a human being yet."

 
          
 
"I'm sure you'll find out."

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