“Your duty, War Leader, is to follow orders. And I will make certain you do. Besides”—she tilted her head toward Springwater—“I suspect that the matron’s messenger carries new orders for us. Shouldn’t you ask? Perhaps we have been ordered home. If things are as bad as Springwater says, then our village has never been more vulnerable than it is now. Our enemies may be mounting war parties. Anyone who ever wished to attack us must know that now is the time.”
Elk Ivory turned and headed for the fallen log where Springwater sat surrounded by murmuring warriors.
Jumping Badger shoved past her, almost knocking Elk Ivory off her feet, and strode ahead into the warriors’ circle like an avenging god. He halted before the exhausted Springwater, and propped his staff in front of him.
Springwater looked up, but his eyes only grazed Jumping Badger before settling on the crow’s-face mask that covered Lamedeer’s rotting head. The crudely carved beak jutted out at an odd angle. Through the holes sunken yellow eyes looked back. Springwater’s nostrils flared at the stench, and he sat back on his log, trying to get as far away as possible without rising and leaving. “Did you have a question, War Leader?”
“Yes. Before you begin the tales of families,” Jumping Badger said in a loud voice, and lifted a hand to get everyone’s attention. Acorn, who stood twenty hands away, near the fire pit, straightened. “Tell us the wishes of Matron Frost-in-the-Willows. Has she ordered us home?”
Springwater shook his head. “No. Oh, no, War Leader, she said you must continue your pursuit. She wishes you to find Blue Raven, Little Wren, and the False Face Child, no matter the cost. She fears that if the boy lives our clan may be completely destroyed.”
Jumping Badger pushed his beaver-hide cape aside, and placed a hand on his hip. “And what did she say we should do when we find the traitors?”
Springwater blinked, as if sensing some undercurrent he didn’t understand. He glanced at Elk Ivory and she nodded to him, telling him it was all right to say it straightly.
Springwater answered, “She said that she wishes the boy dead, and that you, War Leader, should use your own best judgment as to the fates of the other two.”
A smile twisted Jumping Badger’s lips. “Already our new head matron shows wisdom.”
Springwater hastily added, “Though, of course, she said she wishes you to bring them home to face their clan, if possible.”
“Of course, if possible, but—”
Elk Ivory interrupted, “I’m sure Matron Frost-in-the-Willows was distraught, and meant to repeat Starflower’s orders that we must bring Blue Raven and Little Wren home alive. Grief confuses people. Matron Frost-in-the-Willows surely did not intend to give us permission to kill her only son and granddaughter. Doesn’t that make sense, Springwater?”
The tall youth frowned. “Well, yes, but I repeated her words exactly, Elk Ivory, as was my duty. Beyond that, I cannot say what she might have meant.”
“It is impudent to interpret orders, old woman,” Jumping Badger said. “I am sure that after the destruction of our village the new head matron realized what danger we might be facing, and meant exactly what she said.”
Elk Ivory glanced at Acorn, who stood by the fire pit with his fireboard and drill in hand. Flames had just begun to crackle through the tinder, throwing a flickering light over his face and burly shoulders. Acorn shook his head, and turned away.
Elk Ivory lowered her eyes.
Yes, you are right, my friend. We cannot move yet. The other warriors would not support us yet. But soon.
“What about my wife?” young Soaring Falcon called, unable to wait any longer. “Is she alive? And my two children?”
Springwater nodded, and held up a hand. “Yes. Yes, your family is safe. They were down fishing at Pipe Stem Lake when the wind struck. They huddled behind—”
“And what of my family—”
“No, I wish to be next! What of my mother and father, are they—”
“Please!” Jumping Badger shouted. “One at a time! Cottonwood, you first.”
Elk Ivory turned and walked away. She had no husband or children. Her parents had died many winters before. The fates of her cousins and aunts and uncles could wait.
She tramped down the trail toward the meadow where, earlier, she thought she’d seen a wisp of smoke.
A shrill cry rang out behind her, then the sound of a man sobbing. She did not turn. Tonight, and for many days and nights to come, she would be listening to the stories, and comforting the grieving.
But now she needed to scout what appeared more and more to be a camp.
Elk Ivory stepped into the grassy meadow and walked directly to the smoldering fire pit.