People of the Mist(100)
“Any sign of a struggle?”
“No. None. And she hadn’t been with a man, either. There would have been stains.”
“But her body had been dragged from the middle of the ridge, to the side, and covered with leaves?”
“That’s right.” He studied Panther with half-lidded eyes. “High Fox did that. Tried to hide his crime. He thought that scattering a few leaves would keep her from being discovered.”
“Indeed?” Panther nodded slowly. “Do you carry a war club, Flat Willow?”
“Sometimes. What business is it of yours?”
“Do you have it with you today?”
“I do. I could show you how it works.” His eyes narrowed. “In fact, I think I’d get a great deal of enjoyment out of doing just that.” He squinted at Panther’s skull, as if judging just where to land the blow.
“Perhaps later.” Panther ignored the threat and gestured. Sun Conch stepped over to the canoe, looking inside. She boldly bent down and lifted a thick war club from the bottom of the boat. Like most of the war clubs in Flat Pearl Village, it bore a single knob on the end, this one carved from the wood itself.
Panther shrugged as Sun Conch replaced the club. “Well, good fishing to you today, Flat Willow. I guess that whenever Red Knot becomes the center of attention, your hunting is disrupted.”
“It would seem so,” Flat Willow replied crossly.
Panther nodded and started up the canoe landing toward the village, Sun Conch following. Then, on a hunch, he turned on his heel, head cocked. Flat Willow hadn’t moved. He stood glaring after them. “Tell me, Flat Willow, that morning, you shot at a deer?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you ever find the arrow?” >
The hunter shook his head. “No. And if you think that’s what killed Red Knot, you can go find it yourself.”
“Pleasant sort,” Panther muttered out the side of his mouth as he resumed his walk toward the palisade opening. “But one never knows what he will find when he goes looking, does he?” “No, Elder, but make no doubt of it, there was murder in his eyes.”
“Oh, yes. And he’s hiding something. Like a snake in a bag, it’s wiggling around down next to his heart.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come out and bite us, Elder.” Sun Conch gave Panther a worried look. “Don’t underestimate Flat Willow. I thought I knew him, but he’s so different now. I think he’d kill you without a breath’s hesitation.”
In the center of the plaza, the bonfire greedily devoured the stack of piled wood. Around it, Flat Pearl Village’s warriors danced in time to Green Serpent’s high-pitched and wavering song. To each side, Lightning Cat and Streaked Bear shook their large gourd rattles in time, adding their deeper voices to the Song of Thanksgiving. They sang facing the fading glow of sunset, the direction of war and death.
Led by Nine Killer, they danced, leapt, and stomped, ducking their heads, and raising their voices to mingle with the priests’ song. They looked up toward the night sky, where the sparks twinkled out and the thin smoke carried their words of praise up into the air, bearing it toward Okeus’ ears, that he might know their gratitude for allowing them to return safely from the raid.
In the fading light, the carved faces of the Guardians seemed to blink as the shadows of cavorting warriors masked the yellow firelight. Behind them, the people watched, clapping and stamping in time to the shishing rattles. For most of the observers, this was an expression of relief rather than the out-and-out joyous abandon that followed a successful raid with captives and trophies. Then, the celebration would have lasted for several days instead of this single evening.
Shell Comb closed in on her quarry, moving stealthily as she circled the-celebration. She stepped up beside him where he stood in the shadows, leaned against the bark of the House of the Dead. “Good evening, Elder. I hope you are enjoying the dance?”
Oddly, he showed no reaction to her approach, responding in a conversational voice: “That Flying Weir, he seems particularly light on his feet for such a large man. When he and Nine Killer are side by side, I sometimes think they are twins to Lightning Cat and Streaked Bear.”
Shell Comb watched the warriors whoop and jump. “You seem to have made quite a stir with your arrival here. My mother is unsure whether to have the Great Tayac’s warriors drive you from the village, or to simply surrender her position to you.”
The Panther was moving his fingers in time to the music, his head bobbing in time to the beat. “You must be Shell Comb.”
“Indeed, I am.” She studied him in the glowing firelight. “But, who, I wonder, are you? I’ve heard no mention of your clan, your family, or where you might have come from. You are simply referred to as ‘the witch.” Unless, of course, it is Copper Thunder speaking. He calls you Raven.”