People of the Mist (45 page)

 
          
He
fingered his chin, glancing up speculatively. “I’d word it something like this:
“Most honored Weroance, I wish to beg your forgiveness. The grief of my
granddaughter’s death drove me to rash actions. The counsel I received from the
Great Tayac, and from others close to me, led me to believe your son had
murdered my granddaughter. Please, take these gifts and forgive an old woman a
foolish mistake!”

           
Hunting Hawk swallowed hard. By dint
of her leather tough will, she kept control of herself. Okeus eat his soul! How
does he know me so well?

 
          
He
watched her without change of expression, as though he already knew what she’d
say. “All right,” Hunting Hawk growled, goaded by self disgust. “If I’d had her
killed, I would have said something like that.”

 
          
“Weroansqua,
assuming she hadn’t been killed, but had run off with the boy, what would you
have done?”

 
          
“Sent
Nine Killer and every whole-blooded man here to drag her back!”

 
          
“And
Red Knot knew this? Knew you would react that way?”

 
          
“Of
course! She’s my granddaughter! She knew I’d be angry enough to uproot trees to
get her back. The women in my family face up to their responsibilities. We do
our duty.”

 
          
“Apparently,
Red Knot didn’t agree with you. After all, she was running off to meet young
High Fox.”

 
          
“Or
to tell him she wasn’t going with him.” Hunting Hawk uttered a low growl. “I
can’t believe my granddaughter would be fool enough to think that she could
escape the net of warriors I’d send after her.”

 
          
The
Panther cast a curious look at Sun Conch, and said mildly, “Well, one never
knows about the gullibility of young love.” Sun Conch lowered her eyes, but her
face flushed hotly. Turning back, Panther said, “And when they’d been returned
to you, what then?”

 
          
Hunting
Hawk narrowed her eyes. “It would have cost me plenty, making restitution to
Copper Thunder, paying for the affront of Red Knot’s running away like that.
That girl should have cut off her right arm rather than disgrace her clan that
way.” “So, once the act was committed, assuming that she was running off with
High Fox, perhaps it was better that she come back dead than in disgrace?”

 
          
“By
Okeus’ wooden balls, you’re a crafty one.” And it came to her. Perhaps too
crafty. A story like that could ruin her, filter off all the respect she’d
worked so hard to earn over the years. Rot and death! The old fool had just
speculated himself into an. early grave. Besides, The Panther was believed to
be a witch. While Nine Killer might not have the stomach to brain him, she’d
seen Flying Weir’s reaction. At a word from her, that hardy warrior … “Don’t
even think it,” Panther said gently. “It will make matters worse for you.”

 
          
“Think
what? Make what worse?” The screaming spirits take him, did he truly see into a
woman’s soul? Another cold shiver crept down her aching back.

 
          
Panther
gave her a chiding look. “Don’t you think that the Mamanatowick and that fat
old Stone Frog will have already thought of that story? They aren’t fools,
either one of them. If I can think it up, so can they. And, yes,

 
          
your
situation will be worse with me d ad. Every chief with holdings along the
Salt
Water
Bay
will be saying,

 
          
“When
The Panther got close to the truth, Hunting Hawk had him killed—just like she did
her granddaughter!” “

 
          
Angrily,
she drilled her sassafras stick into the frozen mud. “And use it against me,
they will!”

 
          
“Only
if I find out that you ordered her death,” the Panther reminded. “If you have
me killed, you will have proven it in my place. And defeated your own purpose,
since Copper Thunder will hear of it, and you’ll have all three alliances
against you, for I doubt the Great Tayac, Grass Mat, will forgive you for what
you’ve done to him. At least, the man I once knew wouldn’t.”

 
          
“Then
I’d better keep you alive,” she muttered dryly.

 
          
He
shrugged. “I’m an old man. Death is a longtime companion of mine. We know each
other well. Besides, in the end, what are another couple of winters, more or
less?” “Go on, get out of my sight! And you keep that silly story all to
yourself! You hear me?” She poked at him with her walking stick, a new rage
born inside her.

 
          
The
Panther grabbed the end of her stick with a quick hand, meeting her stare. “So,
tell me, Weroansqua, did you have Red Knot killed?”

 
          
“No!
No! And, NO!”

 
          
“Then,
you shouldn’t be so worried about what I’ll find, should you?” And with that,
he released her stick, turned on his heel, and set off across the plaza, the
nervous-looking Sun Conch following. “Oh’V he called over his shoulder, “don’t
forget to send someone for that willow bark!”

 
          
“I
won’t!” she snapped, then, under her breath, muttered, “Lick dog spittle, you
old crank!” And imagined all the ways she could get Flying Weir to snuff the
pesky life from that bony old body.

 
          
Should
you have goaded her so?” Sun Conch peered over her shoulder at the angry
Weroansqua. “You didn’t really mean that she could have killed Red Knot… did
you?”

 
          
“Why
not?” Panther studied her. “She had every reason to act just the way I said.
Put yourself in her position. What if you had made the marriage proposal, and
then found out just how dangerous Copper Thunder really is? Like a boulder
rolled off a ridge, this marriage alliance had picked up speed and was rolling
toward the bottom. How could she stop it without ending up in a war with the
upriver villages?”

 
          
“But
her granddaughter?” Sun. Conch shook her head in bewilderment. “She couldn’t
just tell someone to beat the brains out of a member of her own family! Red
Knot was born of Shell Comb’s womb. By all that’s holy, Elder!”

 
          
“Well,
if you’re still thinking of Okeus as holy, he’d like the idea. Really
appreciate it, in fact. It’s just the sort of thing he’d do.”

 
          
“But,
Elder—”

 
          
Panther
raised his hand, stopping short to stare into Sun Conch’s disbelieving eyes.
“Why do you still surprise me, girl? I thought you’d seen and heard enough in
the last few days to begin to understand just how people think and act. Would
Hunting Hawk kill the girl to save the Independent villages? Yes, in a
heartbeat.”

 
          
“How
do you know?”

 
          
Panther
rubbed his brow, sensing a brewing headache. “Because I’ve seen it often
enough. Seen it. Lived it.

 
          
Been
part of it. Why, in the name of Ohona, do you think I went out there to that
island in the middle of the bay? It was to get away from the plotting and
scheming that comes with authority and influence. When the stakes are that
great, men and women become obsessed, driven to the point that they know
nothing but the need to control others. Life becomes … well, skewed, like looking
at the world from the bottom of a clear pond. Everything is distorted, unreal
from the outside, but, oh,so real on the inside. Do you understand that?”

 
          
Sun
Conch gave him a clear-eyed look and shook her head.

 
          
“No,
I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?” Panther threw his hands up in disgust. “Why
am I stuck with you? You’re so pure and honest, you might have been born of
Ohona’s right testicle! I worry about being close to you! You’re bad for me!”

 
          
“I
thought I was helping you, Elder, by watching your back. I gave you my life. No
matter what it takes, I am yours—”

 
          
“Enough!”
Panther waved her down, searching for any thread of understanding in Sun
Conch’s eyes. “What I was trying to say is that being close to you is starting
to affect the way I think.”

 
          
“The
way you think?”

 
          
“Sun
Conch, if you were looking for Red Knot’s killer, you’d never find her. You are
completely incapable of doing so.”

 
          
“I
am?”

 
          
“You
are. Goodness runs through your blood. It blinds you to the flaws in people.
Take your friend High Fox. On his word you came to me and offered your very
soul to save him. But, Sun Conch, I’m not the slightest bit sure that he didn’t
kill the girl! He’s a leech. Don’t you understand? For the rest of his life,
he’ll live off of others, forever mediocre at what he does. He takes, but he
never gives back.”

 
          
Sun
Conch’s face fell. “Please. Don’t talk about him that way. I—”

 
          
“In
the name of evil Okeus, girl. Do you realize that because of you, I almost
didn’t accuse the Weroansqua?”

 
          
“I
can’t believe you did.”

 
          
“That’s
the whole point. I almost didn’t. I was having such a pleasant conversation,
and you were there right behind me, and I knew it was going to disturb you.
Because I knew you would be upset, I almost didn’t say it.” He winced, rubbing
his temples. “And that bothers me a great deal.”

 
          
“Elder,
she’s the most, respected of the chiefs. In every village they speak well of
her. She sent food to Three Myrtle when I was a child and we were starving. And
to the other villages, too. Her warriors have placed themselves between us and
the Mamanatowick countless times. At her word, Greenstone Clan has adopted
orphans into their households, and—”

 
          
“Quiet!”
He raised a hand to the gray sky. “All of my life, I have beseeched Ohona for
aid. And now I have him walking in my shadow.” He rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Come, let’s see how Nine Killer has made out with his inquiries.”

 
          
Behind
his growing headache, he considered Hunting Hawk’s reaction when he questioned
her whereabouts. Cunning old leader that she was, she’d barely controlled
herself. Panther couldn’t convince himself that she’d acted that way out of
indignation that a stranger dared to doubt her.

 
          
You’re
hiding something, Weroansqua, and before this is over, I’m going to find it.

 
          
Unless,
of course, she made good on her threat to have him killed.

 
          
The
girl was working on hemp when Nine Killer found her. White Otter used a short
wooden club to pound the long stems, loosening the silken fibers before
stripping them from the long stalks. These she laid straight beside her. The
lengths of fibers would then be sorted, separated into threads, and twisted.
Half were twisted to the right, and half to the left; then the threads were in
turn twisted together to make cordage for nets, snares, “and bindings.

 
          
Nine
Killer smiled in greeting and dropped down beside her, crouching on his
haunches. “That looks like good cord. Making a new net for your uncle?”

 
          
She
gave him one of her special smiles, eyes sparkling. “Why would I give him a new
net? If I made you a net, you’d fold it up and forget it until the mice chewed
it up.”

 
          
“Well,
maybe. I always seem to be busy.” He cocked his head, suddenly realizing just
how long it had been since he’d been able to while away a couple of days
netting mullet from the canoe, or taking a party and sneaking up through the
ridges in search of deer, bear, or turkey. Instead, his warriors had been
giving him gifts of fish, meat, and fowl—enough that, now that he thought about
it, he had been shirking his duties to his family.