Tall Man raised a hand. “If the good Shining Bird Clan would hear my words again, I will tell you that I know of a place where the Mask can be placed.” “Where?” demanded Fat Lips. “In a High Head clan house?
Is that your plan? Do you want the High Heads to grow in Power?”
Suspicious eyes turned toward Tall Man.
“I have no such desire. The Mask—”
“You want it back!” Fat Lips crossed his arms defiantly.
“That’s it, isn’t it, Magician? Maybe it happened like this.
Maybe the Mask was hidden. And now that it has been found, you see an opportunity to possess it yourself.”
Fat Lips nodded as he glanced around. “I’ve heard of you, Magician. Curious, isn’t it, that a man known for poisons, seductions, and trickery would come to us at just this time. The Mask would give you a great deal of Power. With it, you could become the leader of the High Heads. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?”
Tall Man remained nonplused. “Hardly. I—”
“I say no!” Fat Lips shook his head. “I say we keep it here, or destroy it. If we can’t use it, no one else should.”
Tall Man bowed slightly. “Were I ignorant of my people’s past, I myself might think in those terms, gracious Fat Lips.
However, let me tell you something about the High Heads that you may not know. When your people moved down out of the forests and into the river valleys, the High Heads were already here. The question might be asked, how did you manage to drive us out of our lands? Not because of your prowess as warriors, for we won most of the wars we fought against you.”
“But not all,” Fat Lips growled.
“No, not all.” Tall Man steepled his hands. “But we could have. After all, we outnumbered you. It might be said that your access to Spirit Power was greater than ours; but if that were the case, why have you adopted so many of our rituals? Learned our Healing Songs, and studied our knowledge of the sun, moon, and stars?”
Fat Lips stamped an angry foot. “He’s stalling, seeking to distract us.”
“Let him finish!” Old Slate clapped her hands to accent her point.
Tall Man studied Fat Lips with pensive eyes. “The point is this: At the time your people, moved into these lands, the High Heads were warring and squabbling with each other over the Mask. Had we not been raiding each other, stealing back and forth, and accusing each other of every kind of misdeed, we might have paid more attention to the Flat Pipe farms that were cropping up in our territories.”
Tall Man held up a hand. “Hear me out. I do not wish to have those days back. I would not see the clan territories become High Head territories again. We are greater together than we were apart. My relatives are half High Head, half Flat Pipe.
Should I seek to harm my own relatives? These days we are so mixed that it is difficult to tell what is separate.
“I would see us all avoid the conflict and hatred that developed the last time the Mask was loose among people.
Think about it. The lust for the Power of the Mask would tear our societies apart. Would you see the Holy Road closed because of warfare? Would you see the Traders stop coming, stop bringing big shells from the south? Stop bringing obsidian from the far’ west? Yaupon? Bear teeth? Caribou hide from the north?”
“That is worth considering,” Old Slate muttered as if to herself. “We must use sacred flint from the Starsky quarries when we cut ourselves for the . rituals. The pipe makers must have stone from the north bank of the Serpent River. Everything we make depends on something coming from another place.”
“Indeed, wise Old Slate, that is the case,” Tall Man replied.
“And with whom would you war? Fighting with the Blue Duck Clan means that you would be fighting against relatives, wouldn’t it? How many of you have daughters or granddaughters who have married into Blue Duck? How many of your sons are married to women from the Goosefoot Clan?”
Old Slate nodded sadly. “My oldest daughter is married to a Blue Duck man.”
Fat Lips shook his head stubbornly. “We only have your word that things would go that far.”
“And you have mine,” Star Shell added, finally forcing herself to stand up. “This whole discussion is becoming silly. If you need proof that the Mask creates division and misery—”
she thrust out her arm, pointing “—look around you! Then go look at my husband’s body swinging from that rope in the clan house.”
She stared at the silent people. “Last night, at the Blue Duck clan house, Robin would have killed me! Do you understand?
He would have killed me only because I was my husband’s wife! Messages of war are being carried from clan house to clan house, stirring up anger and resentment against the Shining Bird Clan. People are angry—angry enough to kill!”