People of the Mist (37 page)

 
          
“First
off,” Nine Killer said, “let’s find the murderer. Find him, and we’ve
discovered our most dangerous enemy.”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk took a breath, straightening. “Yes, and we can determine a course of
action against them.”

 
          
“Them?”
Panther asked.

 
          
“Of
course,” Nine Killer replied. “The killing of Red Knot destroyed the alliance
with Copper Thunder, and threw the Independent villages into chaos. Water Snake
and Stone Frog are immediately suspect. They had the most to gain. Given what
we know now, Shell Comb may have been right, Winged Blackbird and his warriors
could have killed her. They left her un mutilated to mislead us into thinking
it was murder instead of assassination.”

 
          
Panther
raised a hand. “Perhaps, War Chief. But all in due time. For now, the greatest
danger is to leap to decisions. You did that and ended up trapped at
Three
Myrtle
Village
. I would advise that you not stick your
hand into the same hole again. The last time you did, I was barely able to keep
the serpent from biting you.”

 
          
Nine
Killer grinned sheepishly. “Your warning is heeded, Elder.”

 
          
“I
came here to decide what to do with you. I still don’t trust you,” Hunting Hawk
announced, as if coming to a decision. “But I am willing to allow you to stay,
in the village. Under close guard, of course. Nine Killer will be responsible
for you.”

 
          
“Why
did you change your mind?”

 
          
“Partly
because the Great Tayac ordered me to cast you out, and partly because you
might be able to help me.”

 
          
“As
you wish.” Panther nodded politely.

 
          
“But
I don’t want you making trouble, do you hear me?”

 
          
“I
am not here to make trouble. It makes itself readily enough.” Panther puffed contentedly.
“Once I determine who killed your granddaughter, I am going home.”

 
          
“Yes,
you are,” she told him firmly. “Having you around here makes me uncomfortable.”

 
          
“And
you must understand something else. I will go where I must to find the
murderer. No matter who he is. Is that understood? I am not interested in your
politics. I will not be used for your purposes.”

 
          
“I
wouldn’t dream of it.”

 
          
Panther
gave her a grim smile. “Good. In the past, others have not had as much sense.”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk fingered the hem of her robe, skeptical eyes on Panther. “Why did Copper
Thunder call you Raven?”

 
          
Panther
lit his pipe, puffing reflectively. “It was a name I was given when I was War
Chief to White Smoke Rising, one of the Serpent Chiefs on the
Black Warrior River
. In their Creation stones, Raven picks
flesh from the bones of the dead. He called me that because when I was done,
only the bones remained.”

 
          
“So,
he is going to stay?” Copper Thunder gave Shell Comb a sidelong glance as they
walked along the beach just after first light. The day was dawning clear and
cold, with a blustery wind blowing down from the northwest.

 
          
Shell
Comb nodded to the slaves waiting as they approached the sweat lodge where it
was built into the hillside just up from the water. In the early morning it
resembled a pile of dirt with a leather door curtain. The fire outside was
burning, the stones already hot.

 
          
“For
the time being,” Shell Comb told him, “he’s more of an asset than a liability.
He may come in handy.” She dismissed the slaves, who lowered their heads and
hurried back toward the village.

 
          
“Listen
to me.” Copper Thunder placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to stare into
his hard eyes. “You don’t know what he is. I do. He is a monster disguised as
man walking on two legs.” So, the invincible warrior has a crack in his shell.
She smiled as she laid a hand over his. “We will deal with him, Copper Thunder.
He’s an old man.”

 
          
“He’s
a monster,” Copper Thunder repeated. “A venomous insect that will crawl through
your village and inject its poison wherever it can. Kill it now! Swat it dead
before it destroys you.”

 
          
She
arched an eyebrow. “Such words reserved for that old wreck of a man? Maybe I
ought to give him a second look?” She parted her lips, stepping closer to him.
“I thought you were dangerous enough.”

 
          
For
a long moment he looked into her eyes, enough of a hesitation that she wondered
if he’d forgotten just how close she was. She could smell his musky odor, feel
the warmth from his body. He reached out with his other hand and ran his
fingers down the glossy black length of her hair.

 
          
“You
are dangerous,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you’d look at an older woman.”

 
          
“You
fascinate me.” His fingers were twining in her hair now. “I never met a woman
who could see things as clearly as I do.”

 
          
“I’m
my mother’s daughter.” Shell Comb taunted him with a smile and slipped agilely
out of his grasp. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was desire in your
eyes.”

 
          
“How
do you know it isn’t?” He remained where he was, watching her check the stones
in the center of the fire.

 
          
She
used a stick to roll one of the stones out and dripped water onto it. The
droplets exploded in white steam. “I’d say this is hot enough, wouldn’t you?”

 
          
A
wary smile bent his lips. “You and fire seem to have a lot in common.”

 
          
“Men
have burned themselves on me before.” She used two sticks to lift a white-hot
rock. “Would you raise the door hanging?”

 
          
He
held it to the side, allowing her to slip into the dark interior of the sweat
lodge. As she entered, she brushed him with a hip, just enough pressure to
tease. One by one, she carried the hot rocks inside, piling them on the dirt
where they glowed like ruddy eyes. Finally, she picked up the water pot, filled
by the slaves, and set it inside.

 
          
He
watched her every move the way a hunter did a deer. “So this is’ the dance?”

 
          
“The
dance?” She looked up at him as she lifted a shell necklace from her shoulders.

 
          
“The
one you and I shall dance,” he said flatly, his expression revealing nothing.
The forked eye tattoos gave him a predatory look.

 
          
She
stepped up to him, gaze inquiring. “Are you up to it?”

 
          
“Am
I… ?” He laughed. “You asked me to walk with you, told me you had things you
wanted to discuss. Very well, here I am, cold, nearly shivering, and you want
to use the sweat lodge? Why do I think you had all of this planned? It couldn’t
be the fire, the water ready and waiting.”

 
          
She
flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “I need several questions answered.
First, I need to know if I attract you as a woman does a man. I think I just
saw that in your eyes.”

 
          
“Yes,
you did. You’re no fool, Shell Comb. Neither am I. You said ‘several
questions.” Where is this going?”

 
          
“You
can’t marry a corpse, and I don’t have any other daughters.”

 
          
“Then
why didn’t you simply ask if I would marry you?”

 
          
She
cocked her head. “I don’t marry just for the good of the clan, or simply to
obtain an alliance. I’m worth more than that, and I know it.”

 
          
“Ah,
the hot-blooded Shell Comb.” His expression reflected appreciation. “Does that
bother you?”

 
          
He
shook his head, stepping close. “On the contrary, I respect that quality in
you. You will not be taken for granted. I pity the poor man who does.”

 
          
She
ran her hands over his muscular chest and watched his eyes widen. “Pity them
all you want. I’m here with you, and they, well, they’re somewhere else.
Without me.”

 
          
His
hands were on her again, sliding over her shoulders and down her sides to the
swell of her hips. She could see the pulse quicken in his neck, sense the tension
in his chest as his breathing increased.

 
          
“So,”
she whispered as she fingered the rising hardness beneath his breech clout
“even an old woman like me can stir your passion.”

 
          
“I’ve
never thought of you as old,” he said hoarsely.

 
          
She
led him to the doorway. “I had my slaves place several blankets inside. No one
will disturb us.”

 
          
“I
still haven’t said I’d marry you.”

 
          
“Nor
I you. Marriage is a broad and deep territory.” She looked up at him with
half-lidded eyes. “Shell Comb doesn’t just marry a man—even if he’s called
Great Tayac. Before I agree to this, I have to know if you can satisfy me. I’d
hate to grow bored with you.”

 
          
“And
I with you.” He removed his bear hide cloak, peeled off his leggings, and
tugged his breech clout down. “For all of your looks, you might have dried up
inside.”

 
          
Shell
Comb slipped out of her dress, standing before him, a provocative tilt to her
hips. “Does this look like an old woman to you?” And she laughed as she
followed him into the darkened interior, her body alight with the thrill of a
new conquest.

 
          
Shell
Comb sat cross-legged in the darkness beside Copper Thunder. The stifling heat
worked into her flesh. Sweat trickled across her naked body. The lovemaking had
been good. He’d met the challenge, joining with her no less than three times to
prove his virility to her. But while he’d demonstrated stamina, he hadn’t
exactly been imaginative.

 
          
Nevertheless,
I think he will do. And who knew, perhaps his seed would catch.

 
          
She
tilted her head back, panting in the wet heat. Every muscle in her body had
turned limp, relaxed from the copulation, and further loosened by the steam
that boiled off the hot rocks.

 
          
“So,
he will try to discover who killed the girl,” Copper Thunder mused. She could
feel him shift as he rubbed a hand over his tattooed face.

 
          
“My
mother has agreed to let him try.” She paused thoughtfully. “I wonder who he
will name as the killer?”

 
          
She
could sense Copper Thunder’s smile in the darkness. “Oh, I have no doubts. It
will be me. This is a perfect opportunity for him. A settling of old debts.”

 
          
“And
if he accuses you?”

 
          
“Let
him. He can’t touch me. Besides, what reason could I have for killing Red Knot?
I wanted this alliance.”

 
          
“You
shall still have it.” Shell Comb paused. “Provided I satisfied you. Or, was I
all dried up?”

 
          
He
chuckled. “Tell me, where did you learn those things? I never knew a woman
could make a man feel that way.”

 
          
“That
was just the beginning.” She smiled grimly, delighted with the moans she’d
coaxed from his tight throat. How typically male he was; but he’d been willing
to learn. How many men over the years had cared less about her art, preferring
to rush to their climax and be finished? “If I had any doubts, you have
disposed of them this morning.” He wiped sweat frofh his skin and rose to his
feet. Hunched inside the low dome, he stepped to the doorway and pushed the
flap aside. Sunlight reflected on the blue water of the inlet. His skin steamed
as the cool air blew across it.