People of the Wolf (30 page)

"Afoot?"

"It's Dancing Fox," a soft voice whispered. "Please, I had to go somewhere.''

Green Water caught One Who Cries shifting uneasily. "Had to—"

"Raven Hunter," Dancing Fox whispered desperately. "He'll be looking for me. He'll want to ... to ..."

"I don't care what he wants," One Who Cries began. "You can't just crawl into my—"

"Shut up," Green Water growled. "Raven Hunter wants to couple with her. It's not too much for a woman to ask shelter from a man like that."

"Wants to couple ..." One Who Cries' voice drifted off.

"I'll leave," Dancing Fox murmured. "I didn't mean to cause—"

"Hush," Green Water ordered firmly. "These robes are -plenty big enough for all of us."

"No, that's all right. Crow Caller cursed me anyway. It's not right that I should taint your souls with mine. I didn't think first.''

"Crow Caller! He couldn't curse a maggot into becoming a fly." One Who Cries laughed.

"The robes are big enough," Green Water repeated. "I agree with my husband. We've seen Dreamers. Crow Caller is a fake."

"He threw me out. Cursed me," Dancing Fox reminded.

"I heard what he did to you. And I know why it happened in the first place. He beat you!"

"Hey!" One Who Cries started. "Doesn't a husband have a right to his wife any time he wants her?"

"You come at
me
like a bull mammoth in rut, and see how long it takes for
your
robes to be piled in the snow!"

"I'd never—"

"Of course not," Green Water relented softly. "That's the point."

"I'd better go," Dancing Fox insisted.

"You stay." One Who Cries pushed her down easily. "Like Green Water says, the robes are big enough."

"And
you
be careful," Green Water added dryly, punching One Who Cries sharply in the ribs.

"Ouch! Why'd you go do that?"

"Just a warning. The last thing you'd want to do is embarrass yourself by trying to stick that little thing in Dancing Fox.'' Green Water slid under the thin summer hide.

"Little thing?
Little! OUCH!"

"So, there you are."

Dancing Fox stiffened, hearing Raven Hunter's cool voice'. She braced herself on the digging stick she used to pry starchy arctic potato roots from the mucky soil. In her bag, sour dock and fat roots bulged. Before her, the lumpy hills piled toward the mountains to the west. They looked so clear in the heady light. As if she could just reach up and touch the perpetually snowy peaks. About her, grasses and tussocks undulated in green—a stark contrast to the weathered gray of the colluvial rock washed down from the slope.

She turned. He stood tall, arms crossed, head cocked as he watched. The breeze tugged at his long hair, lying loose about his shoulders in a shining blue-black mantle. His too-perfect face reflected curiosity, challenge, a gentleness behind his heavy-lidded dark eyes.

"I looked for you the last night of the Dance."

"I thought you were up praying for a vision."

The smile curled his lips. "I've seen." He filled his lungs, expanding his chest. "This year, we'll be successful. This year, we'll push them back to the north. Breathing room for the People ... for a while."

She watched him, feeling cornered. Green Water and

Laughing Sunshine, she knew, were just over the small hillock. All she need do was cry out.

' 'What do you want?''

A curious look of surprise flickered across his smooth face. "Why, to save the People from the Others. To—"

"With me," she clarified coldly.

He laughed. "Ah, but you've already become mine. Who else will have you? My silly brother is off to be a Dreamer. Fool!" He made a gesture of futility. "Used to tell me about his visions. About Father Sun living far to the south and strange animals. Red-brown caribou with butts the color of tanned leather. About a smaller deer, buff and white, that sheds its horns and can outrun Wind Woman. He went on about a little dog-wolf. Brown, he said, with a bushy tail and nose like fox. Quick, he said. Smarter than wolf." He barked a laugh. "Smarter than wolf? I'll bet his beloved spirit loves that!"

"I wouldn't discount his Dreams," she added stiffly.

"Oh?" He walked arrogantly toward her. "And why not?
_v
Tell me, Fox. I value your counsel. You'll be my wife one day.''

She looked up at him, aware of how close he'd come. The faint odor of his body traced delicately in her nose. Almost fearful, she met his eyes, felt the magnetism of his personality. Were he not so handsome ... no, unthinkable! Not him. Memories came back of the Long Dark, of Raven Hunter's body sliding under her robes.

"No, I won't," she whispered, struggling to keep her voice even.

The deep pools of his eyes stirred, drawing at her soul. A light shiver played along her spine as those eyes softened, beckoning her.

"You're going to be a leader of the People, Fox." The gentle tones of his voice soothed, caressed. A tingle warmed inside her. "But only if you're with me."

"A leader?"

He nodded seriously. "A great leader. That's why I've done what I've done. Talon taught you well out there, didn't she? Oh, I watched you kill the moose. Well done. A perfect throw."

"How?" she asked, suddenly recoiling a step.

"I followed you all through the growing of the Long Light. I watched, and I admired. I'll admit, at times I was tempted to ambush you, enjoy the temptations of your body."

"Y-you followed us? All that time you ..."

"But of course. I wouldn't want the woman I cherished to come to any harm . . . not after you loved me so on the march from Mammoth Camp."

She shivered.

"I never hurt you," he reminded her. "I love you more than anything on this earth. Except perhaps our People."

Reeling, she turned and looked away, feeling him close, feeling his arms go around her, warm, protective. His fingers traced the firm line of her jaw, striking fire along her flesh.

"I ... I'll never love you! Never. You forced me ... used me for your pleasure like some . . . some . . . You brought me back to Crow Caller, threw me at his feet—humiliated me before the People. No, I ran to escape you."

"I know." He said it so sincerely.

She pushed violently away, fists knotted at her sides. "You know?" she demanded, rage building at her memories. "What do
you
know? What do you know of Crow Caller's caress, of my despair? How can you know what it felt like that day Talon and I sneaked away from Sheep Whistle's camp?"

"The visions." A mounting sadness grew in his eyes. "I
told you, I'd never harm you. But I've seen. Seen your Power,
Fox. Not now, not any time soon, but one day, your word
will be law. In the vision you'll be the strength of the People
and I—"

"And you mock Runs In Light's Dreams?" she cried, shaking her head.

"Did he ever have visions of you?"

She fumbled with her dirty fingers, eyes downcast. "No, he Dreamed—"

"I have visions of you. We're tied, you and I. I've seen you changed—made powerful. And it's my duty to force you onto the right path. Help you grow into what you'll need to be."

Bitterly she snapped, "I'll be what I want, not what your twisted imagination would make me!"

He shook his head slowly, a fragile set to his lips. "As I

love you, I would spare you. But I can't. Like me, you have your place. Eventually, we'll be together, powerful, the fate of the People in our hands. Then you'll love me and understand what I've done for you."

Her retort died on her lips at the queer look in his hot eyes. "You're mad."

His odd eyes never left hers. "Maybe. Remember that I've sworn I love you. My wrath is for the Others who would drive us away. For you, I have only tenderness and I cry at the thought of what you will face. When you come to me—"

"I'll
never
come to you!" she spat. "I'll embrace an Other before I—"

He reeled, brow furrowed. "No! Never say that! You . . . you're mine! Mine, you hear? Why do you think I fight? That you would fall to the hands of an Other? It's to keep you clean . . . pure for my seed, that together, you and I, the greatest of the People can found a new line of—"

She scuttled backward. "Mad," she whispered as he looked at her, shaking his head.

"No," he pleaded. "You don't see it! I do. I see the child in your womb.
My child!'"
A trembling smile touched his lips, eyes growing watery. He reached out a gentle hand to touch her. "I've seen our son!"

"No!" she screamed. On fleet feet, she whirled, leaving the hide sack behind her, bolting over the hill. Only when Green Water grabbed her in strong arms and held her did she finally stop shuddering.

"What?"

' 'Raven Hunter,'' she tried to explain, the horror too great. "He's mad, insane."

"Hush, it's all right. He won't bother you." Green Water hugged her again.

Dancing Fox jerked around, looking fearfully over her shoulder, searching, but seeing nothing more than waving sedges, wormwood, and the occasional grasses of the smooth hillside.

"Why is it always us?" One Who Cries lifted his hands, eyes on a knot of people arguing loudly a dart's throw away. The elders waggled scolding fingers and snapped at the smoldering young men who fingered their darts and shook their

stubborn heads. Arguments filled the camp. Raven Hunter's actions had brought it all to a boil.

In the shelters on the terrace, a deep-seated tension had invaded the skin lodges. Women worked hides, eyes veiling worry as their men bickered. The children no longer ran among the dogs laughing and teasing. The stick and running games had fallen silent.

One Who Cries shook his head, studying his dwindling supply of quartzite point blanks. He chose one, looking carefully at the stone, practiced eye seeking any flaw, any irregularity. Stubby teeth sunk in his lower lip, he squinted at the point before rubbing the edge along his grooved sandstone, preparing the platform.

"First Runs In Light and his Dream!" he muttered over the rasping of the stone. "Now Raven Hunter wants to hunt the Others instead of mammoth and caribou! We always have trouble now."

Singing Wolf looked up from where he carved a segment of mammoth ivory, shaping it carefully into an atlatl hook. Laughing Sunshine patched his moccasins nearby, the new life in her belly barely visible.

"It's as Heron said," he muttered. "The world's changing. Nothing's the same anymore."

"Raven Hunter and Runs In Light have split the People right down the middle."

Green Water lifted her chin, thoughtful. "Which half should we go with? Runs In Light kept us safe—led us to Heron. We can't forget that." With a rounded cobble, she kneaded a mixture of brains and urine into the hide she worked. The caribou fawn skin would make undergarments, soft, warm and light. Already the bulge of a child rounded her abdomen.

From the side, Dancing Fox worked at stitching new fawn-skin undergarments together. Her hair swung in a black wave as she listened.

"I think we should have stayed with him," One Who Cries agreed. "I could have missed all this."

"You say that a lot now," Green Water mentioned easily.

"What?"

"We
should
have ... we
should
have. . . ." She smiled warmly at him, enjoying his scowl.

"Why do you think," Singing Wolf asked curiously, "that Crow Caller has said nothing?"

One Who Cries shrugged. "It's as if he's
waiting
for something."

Dancing Fox sniffed loudly.

"You know what Heron said about him. You heard Broken Branch." Laughing Sunshine turned the long boots in her hand. "Says he doesn't Dream. And Heron would know. Maybe he's waiting to see which way the wind's blowing so he can
make up
a Dream."

"Heron believes Runs In Light's Dream," One Who Cries muttered. He nodded to himself as he ran his thumb down the edges of the tool he crafted and picked up his baton.

"But people say she's wicked, a witch," Laughing Sunshine whispered.

"She didn't do anything bad to us. She fed us, kept us alive. No, she's all right. And she Dreams. She really Dreams. Remember the way she called the caribou?"