Sky Messenger said, “More women also mean more babies, and while in the end that will mean more workers and warriors, in the short term infants drain their mothers’ strength and the slave women must be fed more to keep the babies healthy.”
Gitchi lifted his big head and his eyes narrowed, as though he’d seen something beyond the wall of water. Baji and Sky Messenger went still, listening, their glances moving from Gitchi to the darkening forest outside. Finally, two buck deer stepped out of the cottonwoods and stared at the rock shelter. The largest, his massive antlers shining in the glow, lifted his chin to sniff the air. He had one front hoof lifted. He took a tentative step toward the shelter, as though waiting for something. When his expectations did not materialize, both bucks trotted away into the striped forest shadows.
Gitchi slowly rested his muzzle on his forepaws again, and heaved a sigh.
Softly, Sky Messenger said, “No matter what it costs me, I have to convince the other nations to join our peace alliance.”
Baji stiffened. “Even if it costs your life? If they kill you, it won’t help any of us. And what of your vision?”
She felt his shoulder move beneath her hair, tugging it. “That’s simple. If I’m killed, it means my vision was false. It will come as a shock to me, of course, but—”
Baji chuckled, unexpectedly amused. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
The reflected light flickered in his dark eyes. “I worry. Sometimes.”
“Not often, I hope.”
“No. Not often.” He pulled a hand from behind his head and stroked her long hair where it draped his chest. “How are you feeling? How’s your head?”
“Healing. Too slowly for my tastes, but better today. Tomorrow, I’ll be able to run.”
As his gaze moved across the undulations in the roof, he absently replied, “We’ll see.”
For a time, Baji let herself drown in the soothing feel of his hand stroking her hair. Contented, she contemplated his Dream. Cord had said: Believing is the doorway to believing.
Despite her best efforts, she could not escape the doubts and fears of the skinny, tormented girl she’d been at twelve summers. Believing was a hard thing. Life had taught her that. She’d grown up, become a strong woman, discovered her talents and purpose in life—yet that little girl continued to cry inside her. At odd times, especially when she felt safe and warm, pitiful sobs seeped from the invisible internal world where the girl lived. For a long time, those sobs had startled her. She did not understand, and probably never would, why that little girl never grew up. Did her twelve-year-old soul live solely to remind her to stay vigilant, that life could go terribly wrong at any instant? And what was that soul? Obviously it wasn’t her afterlife soul. Was it the soul that remained with the body forever? She found the notion odd and unsettling. It frightened her to think of that scared girl locked forever in her deteriorating bones.
When Sky Messenger spoke again, his voice was soft. “What are you thinking? Every muscle in your body has gone taut.”
“Has it?” she asked in surprise and consciously willed her shoulders to relax. “I hadn’t realized.”
“You were thinking about the old woman, weren’t you?”
She gave him a bitter smile. “Strange, isn’t it? That each of us can tell when the other is remembering those awful moons?”
A particularly fierce gust of wind surged over the hill above them, and old leaves showered down through the hollow, piling against the bases of the cottonwoods and aspens. Gitchi’s ears pricked as he surveyed them.
“Not so strange, perhaps,” he said. “We had to protect ourselves. We watched each other so closely our senses are still tuned to the slightest shift in each other’s posture. There are times when I’ll be watching Tutelo combing her daughter’s hair, and she’ll hesitate for a split instant, and I know she’s back at Bog Willow Village.”
“Do you ever ask her to make sure you’re right?”
“I don’t have to. I know. As I knew what you were thinking just now.”
The old woman’s shadow seemed to hover over Baji again, blotting the starlight as wrinkled hands reached down to drag her to her feet and shove her into the arms of waiting men. Men who had paid a lot for the privilege.
Baji’s muscles clenched again. As her frosted breath rose toward the Sky World, she struggled to understand why she couldn’t let go of those memories. The sickening throb of her heart choked her. She swallowed. Then swallowed again, forcing the memory away. A tremendous sadness came upon her.