People of the Masks(90)

Blue Raven found himself riveted by those dark confident eyes. Despite her age, she was a beautiful woman. Her thick silver braid draped her right shoulder, and most of the lines in her face bespoke a lifetime of laughter.

“The woman I wanted did not want me, and I did not want the woman who did want me. It’s simple, really, I just—”

“Why didn’t you want her?”

“Well”—he shrugged—“she was a warrior. A very brave one, and I—”

“Couldn’t bear the rivalry?”

“No, no,” he said too quickly, and stopped, wondering about that. In truth, Elk Ivory had always been a better warrior than he and, at one time, it had bothered him. He might have had more brute strength when it came to bare-handed fighting, but her skill with bow and knife …

“I see you had to think about your answer,” Dust Moon said and lifted an elegant gray brow. “That’s good.”

Blue Raven suddenly felt trapped, and wondered how he’d gotten here. It didn’t happen often. Usually his experience at debating carried conversations. “Well, the real truth is that women are like Cloud Giants to me. Untouchable. Mysterious.”

A gust of wind tousled her hood, buffeting it around her oval face. She clasped it closed at the throat. “That much is obvious. If you understood women at all, you wouldn’t be here.”

“What? Excuse me?” Blue Raven shook his head. “I don’t understand”

Dust Moon tossed a branch into the fire and lifted her teacup again. After a long drink she said, “Why didn’t you suspect that your niece might wish to rescue Rumbler? You should have. Didn’t she give you hints before it happened?”

Blue Raven straightened. “Hints?”

“Yes, of course. Children think they’re very clever, but they’re really guileless. When they’re upset or desperate, they ask too many questions about the wrong things, or get in fights to make you pay attention to them, and once they have your attention they try very hard to pour out their troubles to you. Unfortunately, adults rarely listen. We are all too busy with our own ‘very important’ concerns to listen to a child.”

Blue Raven stared at her, remembering Wren’s tormented expression six days ago, that last night on Lost Hill. “I knew the Vigil was hard for Wren. After the deaths of her parents and brother, she—”

“How long ago did they die?”

“Eight moons.”

Dust Moon’s face twisted in sympathy. “Go on. After the deaths of her family … ?”

“Well”—he waved a hand—“she seemed obsessed with saving things. Any baby bird that blew out of a nest wound up in our longhouse eating worms that Wren ground herself. And last summer she walked the shore of Leafing Lake each morning, collecting and carrying beached fish or stranded clams back to the water. She—”

“She didn’t just give you hints, Blue Raven. She told you plainly that she couldn’t bear to see anything else die.” Dust Moon shook her head, as if disgusted by Blue Raven’s blindness. “The poor girl. Losing her parents and brother must have wounded her far more deeply than you suspected.”

“I suspected she hurt a great deal, Matron, but perhaps you are right.” Blue Raven set his empty teacup in the snow. When Earth Thunderer Clan selected this woman as their matron, it showed great wisdom. She was as insightful as she was ruthless. “I’m afraid I know even less about children than women. I—”

“But how can that be?” Dust Moon interrupted. “You’ve never been a woman, but you were certainly a child. Don’t you recall how you felt in your twelfth winter? Don’t you remember the things you did to get attention?”

Blue Raven used the toe of his moccasin to push around his teacup. He did, of course. He’d been a wild animal, tearing through the longhouses, brandishing his child’s bow. His mother had made sure he’d quit that by breaking his bow and tossing it into the fire. He said, “My father spent much of his time warring, and my mother … well, I’m sure she cared about me, but—”

“But not enough.” She nodded. Wind teased loose strands of her gray hair and blew them around her dark eyes. “No wonder you became a Headman rather than marrying. Leading people is much easier than being an equal, isn’t it? Looking down is far more comfortable than eye to eye. Eye to eye forces you to care, and you don’t really know how to do that, do you?”

Defensive, he said, “Well, you too are a leader. You should know.”

“Yes. That’s why I asked.”