“You are not frightened?” Red Pipe asked.
Lamedeer fiddled with a twig that had dropped by the side of the firepit, twirling it in his fingers. His twenty-eight winters had given him a face as wrinkled and rough as an eroded cliff’s. He could feel those lines deepening. “No.”
“Why is that, War Leader? I would expect you to be the most cautious of all.”
“Ordinarily, yes. But Cornhusk is a liar. He exaggerates to add drama to his stories.”
“And to make himself appear more knowledgeable than he is. I know this.” Red Pipe stared for a long moment into the wavering flames. His eyes had an odd opaque sheen. “What I do not know, is how we can ignore his warning. Will you be able to sleep at night if we do not call out for help to our sister villages?”
Lamedeer tossed the twig into the fire. “Patron, do you recall the Deep Water Village battle ten winters ago? It happened because of lies spread by a Trader. I’m sure the man thought he was just enlivening conversation, but his words resulted in fifty deaths. Villagers are suspicious of each other these days. It doesn’t take much to build a fire in our hearts. A Trader has only to mention that a Bear Nation village hates us, or that their warriors are making new weapons, and that they were seen in the forest nearby. We send out search parties looking for battle, and in an instant of uncertainty, somebody shoots an arrow.” Lamedeer spread his hands. “Then we are lost.”
“Yes,” Red Pipe agreed. “All of these things are true.”
“I do not trust Traders, Patron. It is just my way, but I tend to think they are all spies.”
Firelight flickered over the old man’s scalp as he leaned forward. “But you did not answer my question, War Leader. Less than five hands of time ago, Cornhusk reported that he’d seen Jumping Badger in the forest with at least eighty warriors. He said the war party seemed to be moving our way. Will you be able to sleep at night if we do not ask for help from our sister villages?”
“If we do ask them to send warriors, and there is no attack, will they send them next time, when we really need help? When we have reliable information and know for certain that we are in danger?”
Red Pipe hesitated. “I do not know.”
“Would you, Patron? If you had sent warriors to Earth Thunderer Village, leaving your own village vulnerable for nights, and your warriors returned saying nothing had happened, what would you do the next time Earth Thunderer Village requested your help?”
Red Pipe ran his tongue over his sunken lips. “It would depend, but most likely, I would decline.”
“That is why we should wait, Patron. Until we know more.”
“Perhaps you are right. I suspect Cornhusk. spread these same rumors to the other Turtle Nation villages, and none of them have asked us for our help. At least not yet. I …”
He paused when Briar-of-the-Lake, the village holy woman, came down the trail from the forest with a load of wood in her arms. She wore a white doeskin cape, and her long hair looked startlingly black against that background. Tiny, frailly built, she had a green tree tattooed on her forehead. He and she had been raised for a few winters in the same lodge. His mother and her father had both died when they were very young. After the death of Lamedeer’s mother, his father had remarried, taking Briar’s mother, Evening Star, as his wife.
Lamedeer could see Briar’s lips moving, but couldn’t hear her words. Her son, Rumbler, walked in a swinging gait at her side. On his heels, his black dog, Stonecoat, trotted with his tongue out. Rumbler’s round face had an unearthly sheen, like moonlight off water. Though he’d seen nine winters, he stood only the height of a boy in his fourth winter. Thick black hair hung to his chin. Their people called him the False Face Child because after his birth they had been terrified he might be a Forest Spirit, like his father. The Disowned, as the boy’s father was known, often disguised himself in human form. They’d actually cast Rumbler and his mother out of the clan for a short time.
“Yes,” Red Pipe said, his gaze on the boy. “Jumping Badger would have to be very foolish to attack us.”
Lamedeer studied Rumbler. The dwarf child had made Paint Rock the most feared village in the Turtle Nation. A person had only to look into the boy’s eyes to understand why. Power lived and breathed in those bottomless black wells.
Lamedeer said, “Jumping Badger must know that the False Face Child would foresee his coming, and warn us.”
“If I were Jumping Badger, I would be terrified that the False Face Child would call out to his father, and the whole forest would rally against me and annihilate my war party.”