People of the Fire(74)

Two Smokes nodded miserably, hitching himself to his feet. Limping on his bad leg, he ducked out into the crisp night, the sound of his shuffling gait growing fainter in the darkness.

"Blood Bear will suffer in the end." Little Dancer shook his head, mesmerized by the Spiral. "He's a fool. I know, I felt the outrage that night. ..." He started, suddenly realizing what he'd said. White Calf hadn't missed a word. One of the old woman's eyebrows lifted to crinkle the lines of her forehead.

"I didn't mean to hurt Two Smokes' feelings," Elk Charm apologized. "I didn't know he'd—"

"Hush, child." White Calf waved it away. "This stew's about done."

"Let's eat," Hungry Bull agreed. "Here we are, talking about all these terrible Power things. That's for Dreamers and Spirit Healers. Today we should celebrate. Little Dancer and I have made meat for the whole winter. We're forgetting that today my son is a man! He's killed his first buffalo. Maybe he's earned a man's name'.'

A mans name? Little Dancer's heart leapt in his chest Finally, after all these years?

"We could probably think up a name." White Calf frowned, chin propped on a withered arm. "Let's give it some thought. A man shouldn't be named just like that/' She snapped her fingers in emphasis.

Elk Charm gave him an openly appraising look, a pensive anticipation in her eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but her cheeks seemed to redden.

He should have swelled up fit to burst himself open at the ribs. He should have been jumping and hollering his joy, dancing and singing his adulthood. Instead he stood, stepping over to touch the deep grooves of the spiral. The stone felt warm and gritty under his fingertips. He couldn't forget the pain in Two Smokes' face, the words about the Wolf Bundle, and First Man, and Blood Bear. He could feel Elk Charm's presence as she came to stand beside him. White Calf's eyes burned into his back with the intensity of glowing coals. Power pulsed on the night.

Outside, beyond the hangings, a wolf howled anxiously.

Rattling Hooves trotted down the trail in the swinging gait of a woman used to traveling. To either side, the tightly growing firs stretched toward the cloud-mottled sky above. The first frost had passed. Humans and animals would have a reprieve before the real breath of winter blew down to lock the Buffalo Mountains in their white grip.

She slowed, climbing over a deadfall blocking the trail. Elk had already broken most of the branches, making it easier to swing her legs across. Her dress caught on a snag. With old familiarity, she broke it off with a loud snap and continued on down the trail to White Calf's.

So, it had all worked out sooner than she could have thought. Blood Bear had found sign of Short Buffalo People on his fruitless hunt for Elk Charm. Good luck had a way of cropping up periodically. Perhaps by the time the hunt for the raiders wound down, Elk Charm might have had enough men to dull Blood Bear's interest. Perhaps one might even have made an offer to marry her if she conceived. Many things could happen.

She filled her lungs happily, exhaling as she resumed her distance-eating gait down the game trail.

The track barely registered in the hardening mud of the trail. She slowed, stooping to inspect the track. No! They wouldn't be here. Not on this back trail so far from the buffalo tracks that led to the plains to the east.

Slowly she began to back away.

She didn't have time to draw a breath as a hard arm slipped around her. A muscular hand clapped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

* * *

"I get the feeling White Calf doesn't want me here." Elk Charm tilted her head to watch Two Smokes' expression.

He rubbed at his brow, slapping at a fly that insisted on pestering him. They sat on the slope several dart casts south of the shelter, enjoying the golden sunshine. Even the sky reflected the peace of the day, stretching forever in an incredibly blue canopy that dazzled the eyes. Here and there a brilliantly white fluff of cloud coasted slowly, changing shape as it crossed the sky. A chipmunk paid them modest attention as it continued its routine of clipping the spikes from the sagebrush around them, nibbling off the tiny seeds until it filled cheek pouches to brimming and skittered off with a stiffly erect tail to cache them.

Elk Charm glanced skeptically at the pile of reddish-gray bark beside her. The hairy pile didn't seem to be getting any smaller. As they talked, they worked the long thin strips of juniper bark Two Smokes had laboriously stripped from the trees during the summer. Elk Charm's quick fingers spun them into a strand, rubbing it between her palms like a fire stick before twining the endless length. Two Smokes laced the strands back and forth and knotted them neatly, creating a section of net the height of a tall man.