“I’ve heard that trouble is brewing among the Serpent Clans,” Otter grunted.
“Trouble?” Four Kills raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Rumor. You know how it is. A Trader stopped last night for a meal and to dicker for some hickory oil for his lamps. He said that he heard it from a Trader who came down Serpent River. Mica Bird, one of the leaders of Sun Mounds, was causing trouble. The other clans are either jealous or anxious over the growth of Sun Mounds’ Power. Mica Bird is a strange character.
I’ve met him. Moody, obsessed with authority. According to the story, he uses some sort of dangerous Spirit Power to gain his ends. Something about a Mask that turns him into some kind of sorcerer.”
“Very well, I’ll tell Red Moccasins that’s come up. It isn’t serious, is it? I don’t sense that you’re terribly worried about it.”
“Worry? About two chiefs squabbling over clan prestige?
That’s clear up on the Moonshell River. To even get there, you have to travel way up the Serpent River. Why should I worry?
I’m going the other way—up to the lakes at the source of the Father Water.”
Four Kills shifted uneasily, arms crossed. “I ‘ where the Copper Lands are. That route will take you past the Ilini River. The Khota will be trying to get you … just like they did Uncle.” He paused, bit his lip. “That’s always worried me. We didn’t carry Uncle’s ashes to the City of the Dead.
His ghost is up there somewhere, wandering around, causing trouble.”
“I’m not going near the Khota, either. They’re a half-day’s journey up the Ilini River. I’m heading straight up the Father Water—and right to the Copper Lands. Maybe I’ll get some of those pan pipes. And some silver. The Trade for them in the south is very good now.”
“So, even if it comes to war among the Serpent Clans, it won’t make any difference?”
Otter shook his head as he ran a toughened finger down the smooth wood of the adze shaft. “I’ve heard them squabble before.
If Mica Bird doesn’t make an overture to his rivals, some raiding parties will be sent out. A couple of fights will be fought.
Honor will be upheld, and one of the other clans that’s getting irritated by it all will broker a peace through one of the societies.”
Four Kills gave Otter a shy grin and propped his hands on his hips. “You amaze me. You talk of strange clans and far-off wars–and you’re so confident about it all. You know these men who seem like something out of a story, and can guess what they will do so far away.”
“Ah, Four Kills, my warrior brother, people are people, whether they are arguing about who took whose hickory nuts in the storage house or debating the boundaries of great clans far up the Serpent River. Personalities, be they chieftains or fishermen, are the same. Only the degree of importance differs.” Four Kills continued to stare up at the tops of the skeletal trees to where the flying squirrel had fled. “This time … I wish you wouldn’t go.”
Otter’s voice dropped. “You know I have to. You know why.”
Four Kills sighed, his gaze locked on the sky. “Maybe it’s the talk of war.”
In that instant, Otter could feel it, the unease that he’d assumed was tied to Red Moccasins and the invitation to eat with them. “What is it, brother?”
Four Kills shivered, then shrugged it off. “I had a Dream last night. Water, falling in endless cascades that turned from crystal-clear to a white as bright as snow. Thunder … everywhere, roaring and booming, drowning all the sound in the land as the earth shook beneath it. The water fell and fell, like a river running over a cliff and hammering the rock. Spray rose from the roar, catching the sunlight to splinter into ten tens of rainbows as the mist was carried out of the gorge.”
“Sounds like quite a place.” Otter thunked his adze against the tree trunk, bruising the outer bark of the bass wood. “Did you see ghosts, too?”
Four Kills pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, looking back into the Dream. “I didn’t see a ghost, brother. Just the body. It came rolling out of the thundering rush of water that pounded the whirlpool under the falls. There, amid the foam, the body whirled and twirled, played with by the Water Spirits as if they were making it Dance in a playful way all their own. Like a stick in a flood.”
“Go on.”
Four Kills scuffed the ground with his soot-packed moccasins.
“The body came spinning in the water, the arms out wide, the head bobbing like a net float with black hair spreading around it like stream moss. So delicate.