Dust Moon lifted a brow at Blue Raven. Walking into their camp had just muddied the waters for him. Obviously Dust Moon and Sparrow would not allow Blue Raven to take Rumbler. Did the man think he could kill them both, grab the children, and run?
Dust Moon sighed in relief when she stepped from the slippery trail onto grass.
Blue Raven halted and put his hands on his hips. As he surveyed the land, he said, “I had forgotten how beautiful this country is.”
“You’ve been here before?” Sparrow asked, and filled his lungs with the scents of wet grass and moss.
“Yes, many winters ago. On a raid.”
Dust Moon kicked at the stone in the grass. “How many of my people did you kill?”
Blue Raven peered at her over his shoulder. His soft brown eyes tightened. “I killed a few, Matron.”
“You can’t remember how many?”
“ … Two.”
He said the word softly, plainly.
Dust Moon said, “Well, at least there was no pride in your voice. But there was no regret in it, either.”
Against the blue gleam of evening his oval face looked softer, almost feminine. “I cannot regret following the orders of my clan elders, Matron. I did my duty to my people. Would you have your warriors feel shame for defending their people?”
“How did you feel when your matrons selected you to be the Vigil Keeper for Rumbler?” Dust Moon asked. “Were you defending your people?”
Blue Raven lowered his gaze. Wind tousled his graying black hair around his face. “They did not select me, Matron. I asked for the duty.”
“You asked to watch a child die?”
“Yes. The boy was afraid. I promised him I would not leave him.”
He had soft vulnerable eyes, filled with a sadness that compelled trust.
Dust Moon quietly ground her teeth. Blessed gods, this man may be more dangerous than any warrior I have ever known.
Sparrow unslung his pack, and said, “Well, I think it’s time to make camp. It’s getting dark, and we are all tired.”
Blue Raven pulled his gaze from Dust’s stony expression, and said, “I’m ready to rest. If you trust me to be out of your sight for a finger of time, I would be happy to collect wood for the fire.”
Sparrow said, “I don’t trust you to be out of my sight at all, but it would be helpful if you collected wood in my sight. Stay at the edge of the meadow.”
“As you wish.” Blue Raven walked toward the trees on the north side of the meadow.
Dust watched him go, a curious sensation in her belly. Like looking at the back of a snake’s head. You’re never sure when it might turn and strike.
“He’s interesting, isn’t he?” Sparrow said as he crouched and opened the laces on his pack. He drew out his fireboard and drill, and gave Dust Moon a half-smile. “It’s hard not to respect him.”
She said nothing, and Sparrow’s shaggy gray brows drew down over his hooked nose. He lowered his gaze to his pack, pulling out pots, bowls, cups, and spoons. “What’s wrong, Dust?”
She shook her head, dismissing the question.
“I’ve never known you to hold your tongue on my account, Dust. What’s the matter? Is it something I’ve done?”
She scowled down at him. “You always think everything’s your fault, Sparrow. Why is that? Some long-buried guilt? What have you done that I don’t know about?”
He hesitated, said, “Well, hopefully quite a few things. It would be unnerving if you knew me as well as I know me.” He added, “You have the food bags, Dust.”
“I assume that means you would like them.” She slipped out of her pack and handed it to him. He took it, loosened the laces, and removed the cornmeal bag. “We’ll have to hunt tomorrow.”
“A succulent turkey or fat duck would be welcome.”
“Start praying now, then. This time of season, Turkey Above is very stingy with her children.”
As he stood, the golden fur on the collar of his elkhide jacket caught the pale twilight glow, and shimmered like a net of fallen stars. Sparrow shoved his hands into his pockets and grimaced at Blue Raven. “He’s changed over the winters since I last saw him.”
“How so?”
“He’s calmer, more self-possessed. Thoughtful.”
“Hmm.” Dust Moon bent over to start gathering grass for fire-starter. The blades squealed as she ripped them up. “He used to be anxious, insecure, and thoughtless?”
Sparrow answered simply, “He used to be young.”
“You were younger then yourself. How could you tell?”
“I was never as young as Blue Raven, Dust. A wife and children change a man’s perspective, make him—”