“Blessed Sun Mother. Why do you allow him such freedoms? He’s ten-and-five summers old. He should be married with a baby already planted in his wife’s belly, and instead he’s out running about like a wild dog.”
Moonsnail stared at her. “At least he’s not running about like a wild dog in heat! What is your interest in Pondwader?”
“He is my son. I am concerned about him.”
“Are you? Well, then it might interest you to know that three days ago old Dogtooth tried to kill him. Made him swim to the bottom of the Sacred Pond and there was a dart—”
Dark Rain stepped forward, the color drained from her face. “Is—is he alive? Is he all right?”
“He’s healing,” Moonsnail answered and eyed her daughter severely. “I plastered a myrsine-bark poultice on his wound, and have been giving him willow-bark tea to keep his fever down.”
“Thank the Blessed Shining People,” Dark Rain breathed, and closed her eyes as if in relief. “Dogtooth has always been crazy. Why did you allow Pondwader to visit him?”
“I didn’t allow it. He ran off with Kelp. You know how far the Pond is. They didn’t get back until way after dark. I was worried sick.”
“Hmm. Well, at least running off proves he’s independent. Does he hunt? Has he killed his first bear? Or been on his first war walk? Is he … a man?”
Moonsnail frowned. Dark Rain took a good deal of time examining the berry stains on her fingers. “Of course, he is. I raised him. He killed his first bear last summer. Though, I admit, he has not yet been on a war walk, but I fear that will come soon enough, what with Cottonmouth’s raiders out burning villages.”
“He is not a warrior, then.” Dark Rain’s brow furrowed. “Well, perhaps no one will care.”
Moonsnail shifted to her left hip, taking the weight off her aching right. What could this discussion be leading to? Dark Rain had never evinced an interest in her children. “What do you want, Dark Rain?”
Dark Rain ignored the question. “Is Pondwader at least tall?”
“He is, and muscular for a youth his age, though still on the skinny side. If he did not have such pale skin and hair, his face would make a woman forget herself … . Do you plan on asking anything more about Kelp?”
Dark Rain seemed irritated at the change of subject. “Oh, tell me if you want.”
Moonsnail’s voice turned icy. “I see. The only one you are interested in is Pondwader. Why is that?”
Dark Rain gracefully sat down and leaned backward, bracing her palms on the mat. She looked like a glorious cat stretching in the sun. Her long hair caught the light and shimmered in blue-black waves. “On my way here, I passed Windy Cove Village. Old Seedpod cornered me, wanted to know if Pondwader had taken a wife yet. I said he had had many offers, but remained available for the right woman.” A gloating smile twisted Dark Rain’s lips.
How dare her daughter run home with such news when Moonsnail had only just begun to think of appropriate young women for Pondwader? Dark Rain knew nothing of such matters! The bride would have to be able to further the clan’s goals, to strengthen their territorial claims, and promise support in times of war. Dark Rain cared nothing of these things. She cared only for herself. So … this marriage must offer some unknown advantage to her wayward daughter.
“Mother, are you not going to ask me about the intended bride?”
“I can think of no young woman in the Windy Cove Clan who is suitable. Our clan has much to offer. If such an alliance is—”
“Oh, Mother!” Dark Rain threw up her arms. “That is precisely the reason Seedpod is interested in Pondwader. That old man knows what our clan has to offer!”
“Does he?”
Dark Rain shifted to sit cross-legged. “You will not believe me, but I swear it’s true. He wants to marry Pondwader to Musselwhite! Of course, Musselwhite is as old as a cypress tree and just as ugly. But she’s still Musselwhite! The status of our clan will rise like a leaping dolphin!”
“Musselwhite?” Moonsnail whispered the name. It didn’t seem possible. Musselwhite was a great hero. Two-tens-and-six summers before, in the midst of the Pelican Isle Massacre, when Cottonmouth’s warriors were destroying the Windy Cove Clan, Musselwhite had appeared out of nowhere, and run through Cottonmouth’s warriors like a hurricane through dry grass, bravely killing nine enemies with just her deerbone stiletto. Cottonmouth’s warriors had been so terrified, many had thrown down their weapons and run. The woman was a legend. And at least four tens of summers old, maybe even more—plus she already had one husband.