People of the Black Sun(147)

Finally, he loped down the hillside, but he kept glancing back at her. Several times he looked like he might disobey her and charge back to her side.

She waited until he disappeared over the crest of the hill, then she slowly turned back to the deer.

They’d started frolicking, kicking up their heels, playfully tossing their antlers.

She clenched her fists and walked toward them.

From somewhere behind her, Gitchi let out a soul-rending howl that echoed through the stillness … but his agonized voice grew fainter and fainter, until it blended with the many-voiced cry that serenaded the brilliant darkness.





Sixty

So many people had crowded in front of Hiyawento that he’d fallen far behind Sindak and Towa. But he was in no hurry. It seemed that everyone wished to hear Chief Cord. The gathering in the plaza had spilled outside the gates and flowed around the palisade. Cord was being bombarded with questions. In another one or two hands of time, things would settle down, and Hiyawento would get his chance to speak with Cord personally.

Hiyawento turned and walked out away from the camps into the moonlight that streamed across the forest. He could faintly hear Cord’s voice rising over the Bur Oak palisade, and warmth spread through him. Every man had heroes in his life, and so many of his were here tonight, Cord among them.

He tilted his head back to look up at the night sky. The Path of Souls had dimmed with Grandmother Moon’s rising, but he could make out its outline. His gaze unconsciously fixed on the fork in the Path where it was said that all the animals a man had ever known in his life waited at the bridge that led from this life to the next. He wondered …

A hushed roar went up in the village. What had Cord said? He was probably telling the story of how he and Baji were ambushed after they left Bur Oak Village. It must have been exciting. The roar grew louder before it faded, and Cord’s voice rang out again.

Hiyawento bowed his head, just standing in the darkness, trying not to think or feel. The day had drained him of both abilities.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Gitchi come out of the trees to the west. The old wolf walked through the moonlight with his head down, his muzzle hanging so low it almost touched the snow-covered ground. His shoulders rolled as though every step hurt.

Hiyawento walked out across the field to meet the wolf. When Gitchi spied Hiyawento, he looked up at him with sad eyes.

“Gitchi? Are you all right? Where’s Baji?”

Gitchi’s ears pricked at her name, then he walked forward and slumped down at Hiyawento’s feet with a deep sigh.

Hiyawento frowned. “What’s wrong?” He sat down beside Gitchi and ruffled the thick fur on the wolf’s neck. “Everything’s all right.”

Gitchi lifted his gray muzzle, whimpered, and stretched his neck across Hiyawento’s lap. The wolf’s luminous eyes seemed to be staring mournfully up at the night sky where the Path of Souls shimmered.

As he petted Gitchi’s side, Hiyawento thought about Zateri and Kahn-Tineta. He missed them desperately. In a few days, once they’d collected their dead and helped the Standing Stone nation Sing their relatives to the Land of the Dead, he would accompany the war party that carried Atotarho home to face the Ruling Council. Before they entered the village, Hiyawento would comb the snakes from the old chief’s hair. Symbols of war were no longer …

“I don’t believe it,” Taya shouted as she exited the village with Sindak. “Everyone saw her. People touched her!”

Hiyawento frowned. She sounded distraught.

Sindak touched Taya’s arm, then swiftly strode out across the meadow, vaguely heading toward Hiyawento.

When he got closer, he called, “Hiyawento? Is that you?”

“Yes, I’m over here.”

Sindak stopped two paces away, and shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know how to … how to tell you … I … please, you have to come. Cord needs to speak with you.”

“I thought he was busy telling stories. I was going to wait—”

“He wants to speak with you now. We’ve all told him our stories, but he wishes to hear it from you.”

Gitchi heaved a sigh, and shoved to his feet with a groan. He knew the word “come.”

Hiyawento rose and dusted the snow from his pants. “Wishes to hear what from me?” Gitchi took a few moments to lovingly lick his hand and lean against his leg. Hiyawento petted his head.

Sindak said, “Just … come with me.”

“Lead the way. We’ll need to go slow, though. Gitchi’s bones really hurt tonight.”





Sixty-one

Sky Messenger

MOON OF NEW FAWNS

Dogwood blossoms tumble through the fragrant late afternoon air, whirling around Wrass where he stands beside me on the hilltop to the south of Bur Oak Village. Brilliant green maples surround us, filtering the sunlight that falls through the canopy. Wavering yellow diamonds flutter across the forest floor at our feet. I wonder if he has the same aching hollow inside him that I do. It’s been a long day, one that has been long in coming.