People of the Fire (18 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear

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

BOOK: People of the Fire
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Around them, people clapped hands over their
mouths, eyes shocked. As Little Dancer looked up into Heavy Beaver's livid
face, his guts loosened and tears began to streak his face. This couldn't
happen, it just couldn't.

 
          
 
"Then there is no way to save you from
yourself, woman." Heavy Beaver nodded. "In four days, I shall Sing
your soul from your body. Before my lodge, I shall place four sticks, one for
each day. And when the fourth stick falls on the fourth day, you shall
die."

 
          
 
At that his mother shuddered.

           
 
Heavy Beaver saw, and smiled, and turned on
his heel, walking away in long paces.

 
          
 
Little Dancer stood stunned, suffocating in
the oppressive silence. The terror in his mother's rigid body powered his own.
His mother's hand rested on his head. Her frantic fingers tightened in his hair
until it hurt. He didn't care. Horrified at the thought, he began to bawl
unashamedly.

 
          
 
Blood Bear kept to the drainages, easing after
the last of the women who walked down the ridge toward the camp below. Last of
all went a woman, a boy, and another woman who limped on a bad . . . Two
Smokes!

 
          
 
Blood Bear slipped down the narrow drainage,
all the while keeping his upper body screened by sagebrush. Could the woman be
Clear Water? He craned his neck, getting the right angle to see her face. Even
over the distance and time, he'd know her perfect features. But while
beautiful, this preoccupied woman couldn't be mistaken for Clear Water.

 
          
 
He squatted down, back propped against the
arroyo wall. So, he'd found Two Smokes. A joyous relief surged up to warm the
smile on his face. Of course, he'd have to see if the Wolf Bundle remained with
the
berdache
. Or did Clear Water have it? Surely, the
two must be close, maintaining some sort of contact. Life among the Short
Buffalo People would be a trial for outsiders. Clear Water would want to talk
about old times, to hear the old stories.

 
          
 
Carefully, Blood Bear scanned the ridge tops,
searching for lookouts, seeing none. Where were all the men? Hunting, most
likely, scouring the surrounding terrain in search of the dwindling herds.

 
          
 
“So much the better. I can get in and get out
unnoticed." The perfect opportunity would present itself. With the amount
of meat carried in, most of the People would stuff themselves. Tonight would be
a feast. There'd be a little singing and maybe a dance until all hours. But
tomorrow they'd be heavy, lethargic after the night. He could sneak close just
before dawn—and slip into the lodge where Two Smokes stayed. There, he could
wring the location of the Wolf Bundle from the
berdache
,
kill him, and be on his way.

 
          
 
It had to be tonight. The longer he waited,
the greater the chance of discovery. You never knew when some child would be creeping
around the sagebrush, or a woman would be out looking for rodents or roots with
her digging stick.

 
          
 
Besides, Blood Bear had never done things by
half measures. This raid the Short Buffalo People would remember for a long
time.

 
          
 
"Heavy Beaver?"

 
          
 
The Spirit Dreamer placed his drum to the
side, rubbing at the sweat that had formed on his face. He situated himself
just so, all the amulets and trinkets he'd placed before him neatly arranged to
look precisely powerful.

 
          
 
"Come in, Two Elks."

 
          
 
The old man groaned as he bent over and pushed
the door flap aside. He blinked, long gray braids hanging to either side of his
head as he looked around the interior. The light that silhouetted his ancient
body glared in Heavy Beaver's eyes.

 
          
 
"So dark." Two Elks entered, moving
to the right where the male guest was expected to sit.

 
          
 
"Careful. You don't want to step on my
raven's foot."

 
          
 
Two Elks muttered to himself and kept to the
rear near the lodge wall. His bones cracked as he seated himself and grunted.

 
          
 
Every hardship in Two Elks' six tens of years
of life could be read in the age-lined map of his face. Toothless now, his jaw
jutted under the overhanging hook of his fleshy nose. His eyes had shrunk in
his head, the orbits hollow looking. A long-healed scar crossed his left cheek.
The right eye still twinkled with life and intelligence while the left had gone
milky white.

 
          
 
"So, you're going to kill young Sage
Root?"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver smiled humorlessly. "She
defied me."

 
          
 
Two Elks nodded to himself, still blinking to
adjust his good eye to the gloom. "I would talk you out of this."

 
          
 
"Why?"

 
          
 
"Because it's worrying the People.
They're—"

 
          
 
"I want it to affect the People. Women
like Sage Root have brought us to these present dire circumstances. The only
way to change things back the way they were is to purify ourselves. It can't be
done without examples set and sacrifices made. I've Dreamed it, heard it from
the stars. Sage Root proves my point. She went out in violation of my orders.
She spilled the blood of Antelope
Above's
brothers.
She turned them against us. Now we'll have to starve for a while to purge her
sins from the body of the People. I intend to make her pay."

 
          
 
“You'd do this? You'd kill a good woman just
because she spurned you? What of her son . . . her husband?"

 
          
 
“What of them? Her husband is a wild and
reckless man. He's failed to teach his wife respect for Spirit Dreamers. You've
lived here. You know it's no secret that he never beats her, never punishes her
for disobedience. No wonder his hunting has been so poor over the last couple
of years. No wonder the Wise One Above took his children from him. What more
proof do you need?"

 
          
 
Two Elks stared at the dead blackness of the
fire pit. ''Doesn't it bother you that he might kill you for Cursing his
wife?"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver grinned. "Do you seriously
think he would? I know Hungry Bull. How many times have I seen him shy away
from Spirit Power? How many times have I heard him say he wants nothing to do
with Dreaming or visions? No, all I need to do is threaten his soul—as I did
his wife's—and he'll melt away like last March's snow."

 
          
 
“And Sage Root? Is there no way you'd withdraw
the Curse?"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver locked eyes with the old man. 44
I would. If she came here and submitted herself to me. If she came and
apologized and bound herself to me for a year to learn proper penance for
taking on a man's responsibilities. I could make a special exception and take
her to the sweat lodge, cleanse her through the heat. Then I could heal her soul,
rebind it to her body."

 
          
 
“She'll never do that."

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver lifted a casual shoulder.

 
          
 
“I have come to ask you to stop. People have
been coming to me saying, ‘Go to Heavy Beaver. Tell him to stop this. There is
no good coming from this Curse. Tell him for the sake of the People.' They're
afraid of what will come if you do this thing."

           
 
"They should be. I've come to teach them
a new way. Over the last couple of months, I haven't seen much change in the
way they live their lives. Sage Root, Makes Fun, Sleeping Fir, Bright Cloud,
they all continue to laugh and tell me what to do. I hear them speak as if they
were the equals of men when—"

 
          
 
"It is the way of the People."

 
          
 
"It is pollution!"

 
          
 
Two Elks filled his old lungs, shaking his
head. "And you'd split the People again? Can't you Dream a way for us that
doesn't turn us against ourselves? That's not too much to ask, is it? You're
splitting the young from the old, the men from the women, like a quartzite
chopper splits bone. We can't-"

 
          
 
"Then they'll learn. That's what I've
been trying to teach them. It's time for a new way. I've heard the voices,
talked with the stars. Women can no longer be allowed to dictate the ways of
the People. It is an age for men. Look at the
Anit'ah
.
Look how powerful they are. You don't hear of women in their councils, do
you?"

 
          
 
"Well, no, but then I've never—"

 
          
 
"And among the Cut Hair People? What of
them?"

 
          
 
"I've never been among the Cut Hair
People, but the way we live, you can't trap buffalo unless women handle part of
the surround. And who drives the jackrabbits and packrats? Who helps work the
drive lines when—"

 
          
 
"And they can still do that. But they can
no longer take part in the planning. That's the obligation of men. How would
you feel if you were Buffalo Above? Hmm? Would you want your children killed by
women who pollute the world by bleeding at the crotch once a month?"

 
          
 
Two Elks frowned into the gloom, a look of
confusion on his face. "But the old ways—"

 
          
 
"Have let us down! Face it, Uncle. Look
around you. The buffalo have gone. Rain Man no longer Dances water from the
clouds. Why do you think that is? No, you don't have the answer. But I do. And
I'll save the People if I have to destroy them in the process."

 
          
 
Silence stretched.

 
          
 
"Yes." Heavy Beaver sighed. "I
know they will come to fear me. I can't let that bother me. A Dreamer has to
take what the Spirit World gives him. If I have to change the People through
fear and Curse some along the way, the rest will be better for it in the end."

 
          
 
“You believe that, don't you?"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver lifted his spread hands.
"I'm the one who's experienced the Dreams, Uncle. Do you expect me to spit
in the face of Power to keep the elders happy? No, I've been told to teach a
lesson. Sage Root will be my way to do it."

 
          
 
Two Elks closed his eyes. "Please, don't
do this thing. If you kill her, you can't go back. I think you don't understand
what it will do to your friends and relatives. Think about it, Nephew. Think
long and hard and seriously about what another division will do to this camp.
We're hanging on by a thread. Blood and cries of witchcraft won't make anything
better. Not at all."

 
          
 
"I'm the Spirit Dreamer. I have my own
duties to the People."

 
          
 
Two Elks levered himself up, teetering on old
legs. "Then your mind is set on Sage Root's murder?"

 
          
 
"I have said everything. I only sorrow
that you would call it murder when I act to save the People. You know my heart
and soul, Uncle."

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