Dace tilted his head. “Pondwader is not a fighter. I took advantage, and I shouldn’t have. I would ask that you forgive me for that, as well. Sometimes I do not think. I just act. I always regret it later.”
Kelp peered at him with wide eyes. “Why are you telling me these things, Dace? What difference would it make if I forgave you?”
“I …” His mouth hung open. He took another bite of his squirrel and chewed it thoughtfully. Firelight glimmered in the folds of his black braid. “I have always enjoyed your company, Kelp, and now that we are both out on our first war walk together I would like us to be friends again.”
Straightforwardly, she said, “Dace, why are you being so nice to me? We are both Heartwood Clan. Related. If you are hoping to—”
“No!” he blurted, eyes wide. “Blessed Brother Sky, no, Kelp. I would never do such a thing. It would be incest. I just … I am lonely here. None of these men take me seriously. I have no friends—except you. If you wish to be my friend again.”
Kelp nodded. “That would be fine with me, I guess.”
For a time, they ate in silence, glancing at each other across the fire. Kelp would hand him a piece of the squirrel. He would take it, smiling uncertainly, as if fearing she might suddenly change her mind and jerk it back. This behavior intrigued Kelp. For as long as she could remember, Dace had been Heartwood’s most feared bully, perhaps because he had been forced to defend Pondwader so often—and her. Dace had jumped into the middle of Kelp’s fights more than once. Not that Dace found that difficult. Even as a little boy, he’d been bigger than everyone else, and seemed to enjoy fighting. Whatever he had wanted, he had taken. He was not a man yet, though he had killed his first bear two summers ago. But this war walk might change that.
That made her think of Pondwader. He was a man by virtue of his marriage—but Kelp wondered if he had been forced to kill during the raid. She hoped not. It would have broken Pondwader’s heart.
“Are you scared, Kelp?”
“Scared?” She wiped her greasy hand in the sand. “Of what?”
“Of being on a war walk? I mean, we may run into Cottonmouth’s warriors.” His eyes tightened when he looked at her, and she could see that fear gnawed at him, though he didn’t wish to say so. His dark brows slanted down over his straight nose.
“Oh,” she said with a laugh, “that possibility terrifies me. I’m pretty good with an atlatl, but the idea of casting at a man makes me feel queasy inside.”
“But we are warriors,” he said so softly that the rhythm of the sea almost drowned out his words. His hands tightened on his piece of squirrel. “We aren’t supposed to be afraid. Are we?”
Kelp finished her last bite and tossed the rib cage into the fire. Flames licked up around the bones and black smoke spiraled away in the wind. He had called her a warrior. Included her. Pride tingled in her chest. “I’ve heard warriors speak of being very much afraid in battles. How could they not be? When an enemy aims his dart at your chest, you are going to be afraid, I don’t care how courageous you are.”
Dace appeared to be considering that. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, I suppose.”
“Are you scared, Dace?”
A thin smile graced his full lips. He whispered, “Petrified, little sister. And there’s not a single enemy warrior in sight.”
Kelp smiled. “You are on your first war walk. Did you expect to feel safe?”
“Well,” he said and cocked his head, “no. But I expected to feel … brave. Didn’t you?”
Kelp smiled wistfully. “I guess I’m too desperate to worry about being brave.”
“Desperate?” he asked. “Why are you desperate?”
Men began to drift away from the central fire, seeking their beds, and the sound of their conversations died. Kelp watched several warriors roll up in their blankets and shove their packs beneath their heads. But Dace remained sitting on the other side of the fire, his eyes fastened on Kelp’s face.
“Can’t you tell me?” he pressed. “If you can’t, I would understand. Some things are not to be shared. I just thought you might—”
“I would like to tell you, Dace,” she answered. “But it’s late. Everyone is seeking their blankets. We should be sleeping, too. I suspect tomorrow will be even harder on us than today.”
Dace got to his feet and awkwardly wiped the sand from his legs. “Would you … would you mind if I brought my blanket over here and slept by your fire?” He hastily added, “If you don’t wish me to, please say so. I will not feel offended. I realize that I—”