Feather (13 page)

A murmur of wonder went up from the women. The men never carried anything unless they had to, and no one had ever helped Sinda carry the child before.

“This is my rule. If a baby comes to this band, we will keep it. And you.” He glared at the two captives. “You are no longer slaves. You chose to stay with me and help me oppose Mik. You are now Blens. You will hunt with us and keep watch with us. I will no longer keep you in bonds, but if you try to escape, I will kill you.”

It was said so flatly that Feather shuddered. She did not doubt Lex would make good his word.

“In the fall,” the leader said, “you will be tested at the City of Cats, to see if you are worthy of the freedom I give you. But now we march. Mik and his band have gone west. We go east. We will put many miles between us before daylight.”

The people hurried to pack up the supplies and bedding. There was not much food, but even so Feather realized that Lex now controlled what was left of it. Mik’s people had been run off without any provisions.

As she hefted a pack containing cooking utensils and beans, Tag came near and said to Hana, “What would Lex’s wife have me carry?”

Hana smiled at his implication that she was now wife of the leader. “That and that. And can you also take this?” She loaded Tag with bulging packs, then left to fetch her own clothing and blanket.

“Where is Kama?” Feather asked.

“She went with Mik,” Tag told her.

“He took her?”

“No, it was her own choice.”

“But we need her to make the arrows.”

“You will have to make do,” Tag said. “Cade and I will cut shafts for you when we are settled for a while. Maybe you can teach me to do part of the work.”

Lex barked an order, and Tag pulled on Patch’s leash. “Come, Patch. Time to march.”

The cat walked along beside them in the moonlight. Cade fell in on the other side of Tag, using a walking stick. He grimaced with each step, but Feather could see that he was determined to keep up.
He will prove that Lex has not been foolish to keep him,
she thought. She must do the same and keep Lex supplied with the best arrows possible. She wondered if Kama had taken all the tools and glue, and the assortment of feathers they had collected.

It was not until daybreak, when they stopped for breakfast, that she became aware of the extent of the men’s wounds. Dell, Lex, and Potter, the young ex-slave, all bore cuts, and Ulden, a burly young warrior, was limping. Even Tag had an ugly bruise on his arm.

“You were hurt in the fight,” Feather said.

He looked down at his arm and nodded. “I’m glad it was not worse. But Mik flees now with claw marks on his face.”

Feather stared, waiting for him to explain. “You fought him yourself?”

“I saw that one of Mik’s men was attacking Cade, and Cade was in trouble. I went to help him, and all of a sudden, Mik was there. He didn’t have a blade in his hand, or I would probably be dead now. He said, ‘You dare to side against me?’ and grabbed my arm. Then Patch growled and leaped at him. He slammed into Mik, head first on Mik’s chest, and knocked him over. One swipe of his claws, and Mik was running.”

Feather inhaled slowly. “I’m surprised Patch didn’t chase him down like a deer.”

Tag smiled grimly. “I whistled, and he came back. But I know now that he will always be loyal to me and defend me.”

Hana opened the meager stores of food and let Denna and Riah serve breakfast while she fixed a portion for her husband and carried it to him. Feather followed her, carrying a water skin.

Lex looked up at Hana for a long moment, then reached for the food. “How many are we?”

“Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight, counting the babe. We lost nine men and four women. Several of our people are wounded and weak.”

Lex nodded. “The same is true of Mik and his followers. But we have more people.” He looked past Hana at Feather. “And we have the best archers and the brightest children.”

Feather turned away quickly to hide her confusion. Was Lex planning to build a new tribe with ways that differed from those of the rampaging Blens? Or was he just counting his assets—food stuffs, weapons, people who would be useful?

Her hopes were dashed when she heard Hana say, “We need a stopping place.”

“Yes,” said Lex. “We need to find a village that we can defeat with our numbers, so we can regain our strength. You women may have to help raid this time.”

“You think Mik will come after us after he rests and attack us?” Hana asked.

“I think I have shown him the folly of that. But he may join another band. If he does that quickly, he might urge them to pursue us. Then we must watch out!”

Feather heard no more, but she hoped Mik’s fear of the cat would keep him away from Lex’s people.

The snow was deep in the Wobans valley.

The people spent most of their days in the big lodge, and Sam gave daily lessons in the arts of reading and writing.

In the morning he taught the people to form the letters that made up the words in their new books. Karsh used a sharp stone to scratch the shapes on a piece of slate. Some of the others used charcoal from the fireplace to write on thin sheets of bark.

After lunch Karsh sometimes went to the family house to play with Cricket and Flame. He and the other boys tended the goats and sheep, feeding them morning and evening, and they continually hauled firewood and water to the lodge and the house. Now and then Karsh was called upon to put on snowshoes and climb the ridge to stand watch. It was cold up there in the wind, but the watches were shorter in cold weather. Weave and the other women supplied all the sentries with woolen wraps and stockings, and Karsh was proud to be numbered with the men in this duty.

In the late afternoon Sam held another session, concentrating on reading. Karsh and the other children were quick to learn the sounds of all the symbols. With delight they read Sam’s name, and then those of some of the children. Kim and Lil were easy. Karsh’s name was harder, but very soon he could write it from memory, and he began to scratch it into the bark of a tree trunk on the ridge high above the village.

In the evening Sam read to them from the books. They all listened avidly as he read about the ancient times or taught them amazing new things about the plants they thought they knew. Tansy could hardly wait for spring when the herbs would leaf out again and she could gather them to begin brewing new teas and medicines.

The men sat for hours discussing what they had learned from the books. Alomar always grew excited when they spoke of the old kingdom. Instead of fading with age, his memory seemed to be restored as he studied, and he recalled more and more incidents from his youth. His face took on a contented look that made Karsh feel safe. For the first time, he did not hate the winter.

After three long months of confinement, the people could feel the change in the weather. The days grew longer, and the snow began to shrink. Storms were fewer and weaker when they came, and Karsh knew that spring would soon be upon them when Hunter and Jem organized a hunting trip.

“Take me with you,” Karsh pleaded as usual, and this time Hunter did not refuse him.

Sam and Hardy also joined the party, and Karsh was so thrilled that he would not have been able to hold his bow steady if they had come upon game the first day out.

They camped that night in a cave that was merely an overhang of rock, but the ground below was free from snow now, and a fire made it quite cozy. On the second day Hardy spotted the fresh tracks of a bear.

“Karsh, you stay behind me,” Hunter said, as the men pressed forward, following the tracks toward a patch of thick pine woods.

Karsh was a little put out. Hunter was still treating him like a child, and he was nearly twelve summers old. But another part of him was glad. He did not mind being watched over by Hunter. They came last as the men fanned out into the thicket.

Ahead of them Hardy’s sudden yell was lost in a great roar. Hunter hurried forward, and Karsh stuck to his heels. They pushed through the low branches of the close-growing pines and were suddenly in a small clearing, where Hardy stood face-to-face with an upright bear.

The bear’s fur was dark and matted, and the smell of the animal hit Karsh suddenly, almost nauseating him, but he stood his ground. Hardy was barely ten feet from the bear when he shot his arrow into its heart. The bear grunted, then lunged forward at him, knocking him down. Just before it fell on Hardy, Jem and Hunter ran in from the sides, shoving lances into the bear’s body.

Karsh stood rooted to the ground. It was all finished in less than a minute, but it seemed forever before the bear lay still and the men rolled its carcass off Hardy.

“Are you all right?” Hunter asked, extending his hand to Hardy.

Hardy stood up, gasping. “Mostly.”

They all laughed, then Jem examined the deep claw marks on Hardy’s arm. “You’ll live, but we’d better wrap that.”

Hardy nodded, still pulling in deep breaths. “He’s heavy. I thought he would crush me.”

“Just sit and get some air,” said Sam. “We’ll dress the beast out.”

Karsh was able to move forward then, and Hunter glanced at him.

“Get a fire going, Karsh, and we’ll have roasted bear tonight.”

Karsh was glad to have a chore and also glad that he had thought to bring along his fire-making tools. He gathered some dry pine twigs from the bottoms of the nearby trunks, below the lowest branches. Pine trees always supplied dry kindling. It wasn’t long before he had a blaze going on the shallow snow in the middle of the clearing.

Jem washed Hardy’s wound with snow, then tied it up with a strip of cloth he produced from his pack.

“Now sit near the fire,” Jem instructed Hardy. “You and Karsh will be the cooks tonight.”

Karsh knew Hardy did not like to admit weakness, but he seemed a little wobbly on his feet, and he did not protest Jem’s words, but came meekly to sit on a blanket near the blaze.

“There’s a lot of meat on this bear,” Hunter called. “I think we should head back in the morning. No need to keep hunting now.”

“You don’t want to try for a deer as well?” Hardy asked.

“No, this will keep the people fed for a week, I’d say, and I hate to stay away too long this time of year.”

“It’s the time when wanderers are stirring,” Jem agreed.

“Do you get marauders in the spring?” Sam asked.

Hunter nodded grimly. “Sometimes. We always keep watch. Sometimes they come into this area to hunt or to look for easy plunder.”

“Blens?” Sam asked.

“Not this early. They seem to spend the winter farther south. We won’t see them until later, but there will be others.”

“Not usually as powerful or as well organized as the Blens,” Hardy said, and the other men nodded.

“We stay hidden for the most part,” Hunter said. “Our valley is hard to find if you do not know where to look.”

 Sam nodded. “I almost missed it myself.”

“Let’s go back tomorrow,” Jem said, and Hunter grinned at him.

“Already you’re pining for home?”

“Home and those who live there,” said Hardy, and they all laughed. It was no secret that Jem had courted Zee during the winter, and everyone expected the elders to perform the marriage ceremony soon.

Karsh was glad. His young friend Bente would have a mother again. Bente seemed pleased with the arrangement. 

Jem was even talking of building another family house this summer. But seeing them unite as a family reopened Karsh’s sorrow for his own loss.

They ate their fill of meat that night and hung the carcass high in a tree. The next morning they slung it from a pole and headed home. They took turns carrying the bear and scouting the trail ahead.

An hour’s walk from the village, Karsh was leading the party. It was an honor to be allowed to go first, watching out for intruders. He had never felt so grown up. He hurried along through the sparse hardwood trees, keeping watch on every side. Movement caught his eye through the bare branches, and he stopped. Yes, he was not mistaken. A man was moving in the same direction they were. He was about to sprint back to tell the others when he noticed the dogs bearing packs.

The trader!

With joy he turned back. Jem was not far behind him, and Karsh ran to tell him the news.

“So, hail him!” Jem cried.

Karsh turned and raced through the trees. “Friend!” he called when he again spotted the cloaked figure.

The man swung around, and his expression went from alarm to pleasure. The two dogs began to bark, but the trader spoke sharply to them, and they sat down whining. “I am just on my way to your village,” Friend said as the men came up to join them. “I see you have had a good hunt.”

“Yes,” said Jem. “We welcome you to feast with the Wobans tonight.”

“With pleasure.”

That evening there was much merriment in the lodge. Alomar announced that Jem and Zee would be married in

seven days’ time, and the trader showed new wares he had accumulated during the winter as he went from tribe to tribe. His dogs lay by the fire with Snap and Bobo, happy to be idle and sheltered.

Karsh and the other boys and girls gathered around as eagerly as the women while Friend unloaded his packs, and the trader suddenly looked at Karsh.

“There is something here that may interest you, my young friend.”

From his pack he drew a stick about eight inches long, broken on one end. At the other end were a notch and three curved feathers.

Karsh felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He reached out for it, and his hand shook. Hunter and Rand also stepped forward.

“It is Feather’s work,” Karsh breathed.

“May I?” Hunter took the broken arrow from his hand and looked at it closely, then handed it to Rand. “You are the master, sir. Is this our Feather’s fletching?”

Rand took the arrow closer to the lamp and studied the feathers, the glue, and the thread work thoughtfully. “The materials are inferior, but I believe I see her touch. Look here, Hunter. This is the way I taught her to trim the feathers. Anyone could copy that, of course, but the threading is distinctive too.” Rand shook his head with a sigh. “She was so deft at it. She took to it instantly, you remember.”

“Yes,” Hunter said softly. “She is a special child.” Alomar cleared his throat. “We must not give up hope that we will see her again one day.”

“Where did you get this?” Hunter asked the trader. He hesitated. “It grieves me to say that it was at a village where I have traded before, but it is no more. The houses were burned, and I suspect there were corpses inside. I did not stop to dig about, but I found an arrow in the Blen style. As I left the spot, I spied this shattered arrow in the grass. It was different from their usual design, which is not really a design at all, but a crude, clumsy missile. This, however, is very fine. If they had some spruce and good glue, they would have the best arrows I’ve ever seen. Like yours, that is to say.”

“And where was this village?” Rand asked.

“Far to the south of here.”

Rand nodded grimly. “They kept her alive then and put her to work.”

“That in itself is good news,” Hunter said, putting his arm around Karsh’s shoulders.

Friend smiled. “If you folk would only trade me some of your arrows, I could give you a good exchange. People everywhere would want them.”

Hunter shook his head. “We do not wish to trade our arrows.”

The trader shrugged.

“I was training her, and she surpassed me,” Rand said softly. He turned away abruptly.

“He likes Feather,” Karsh whispered to himself. Hunter squeezed his shoulder. “He took it hard when she was captured. Rand is not unfeeling, you see.” 

“It’s only because she is good at making arrows.” 

“No. It’s more than that. He admires her spirit and her willingness to learn. You have some of that yourself.” Karsh looked up at him doubtfully, and Hunter smiled.

“You are of the same blood, you and Feather. There is no doubt in my mind.”

“I don’t look like her.”

“Her hair is darker than yours, but your brown eyes are alike. And you have the same small ears.”

Karsh blinked. He’d never thought much about ears before, and he’d never seen his own, but Feather’s were small, it was true. They lay flat against her head and didn’t stick out through her hair like Lil’s did. 

“But she is with the Blens now.”

“She is alive and healthy,” Hunter reminded him. “She is working, practicing her craft. And she is very clever.” 

“I will find her,” Karsh whispered.