People of the Mist(154)

The blackened stumps of the long-dead trees rose like jagged dark teeth from the choppy surface of the field. Weed stems and occasional dead grass—material too fine to collect for fuel—gave the track-pocked snow a tawny hue in places.

Yesterday had been warm enough to melt the top layer of snow, but in the night it had frozen to a resistant crust.

With each step, Panther’s moccasins punched through to the soft snow beneath.

Interspersed throughout the fields stood humpbacked long houses Frost glittered on the thatch, and thin twists of blue smoke rose from their smoke holes. It didn’t take much imagination to believe that magical whales lay hunched in the snowy waves of the field.

Panther saw his quarry stand up from emptying her night water and resettle her dress. He pulled his blanket tighter around his sunken shoulders and fought the urge to shiver in the morning cold.

“Greetings, Shell Comb,” he said amiably as he walked up to her. “I’m surprised to see you up so early after all of last night’s excitement.”

She gave him a skeptical inspection, one fine eyebrow cocked. “Excitement of your doing, Elder.” Her lips quirked. “I’d still like to know how you stole Copper Thunder’s war club.”

“I’ll bet he would, too.” Panther shrugged, and lowered himself onto the weatherworn stump. When the people opened a new field, they girdled the trees to kill them, then alternately chopped and burned to clear the land. Since the stumps could not be removed, they simply planted around them until they rotted away.

She smiled then, a sparkle in her eyes. “Tell me, did you do that just to goad him? If so, you were successful. He was stamping around cursing all night long. I think, had he the privacy to do so, he would have killed you on the spot.”

Panther mocked surprise. “What? He didn’t believe me when I said that I found it in old Green Serpent’s firewood pile? I would have sworn it was placed there as an offering to Okeus. What better way to honor the crooked god, than with a nice warm bonfire?”

She crossed her arms, exhaling frosty breath. “He hates you, you know. Eventually, he will kill you.”

“He might. I’ll make it difficult for him.” Panther waved the thought away. “Shell Comb, I’m an old man, and, to be honest, if I survive another five winters, it will be a miracle.” He rubbed his knees. “These joints don’t have the spring they used to. I think a man can feel his time coming.”

“How old are you?”

“Too old. Almost seven tens.” He smiled wistfully. “Odd, isn’t it? Most of our old men are lucky to see four tens of Comings of the Leaves. But then, we have the one or two odd ones like your mother and me, the ones who seem to go on forever.”

“Not everyone lives to be called Elder with the reverence due one of your age.”

“No indeed.” He stared out at the field, pimpled with the little humps of dirt where corn, beans, and squash had been harvested. The three plants did well together, each sharing the soil with the other, mutually satisfied with each other’s company. Why couldn’t different tribes of people be so considerate? “And some, like young Red Knot, never even come close.”

She nodded, lowering her eyes. “Last night, at the Weroansqua’s fire, Copper Thunder raised a good point. Why do you care so much?”

“About Red Knot?” He spread his hands wide. “I have my reasons. Besides, I’m a crotchety old man. Most people consider me to be a terrible witch. Since I can’t change the way they think, I’ll do things my own way, and for my own reasons.”

“You lost a daughter once?”

“No. A … a good friend. A lover. Someone denied to me.” “I’ve never lost a lover.” She glanced away. “That is one tragedy I’ve avoided.”

He tucked his elbows tight against the chill. “Then, are you going to marry Copper Thunder?”

She shrugged. “At this point, I don’t-know. In the beginning, I thought it was a good idea, a way to insure the alliance. Now I’m not so sure.”

“What’s this? Sense from the senseless Shell Comb?”

“Is that how people think of me?”

“Answer that yourself.”

She stared out across the field with dull eyes. “They should indeed, Elder. The problem with avoiding responsibility is that in the end, Okeus catches up with you. No matter what, we all pay for our mistakes.”

He nodded. Looking back, through time, he could see her, those large dark eyes staring up into his. He could see his hand reaching out, sliding down her glistening raven hair, then following the contour of her cheek. How smooth her skin had been. The ragged hole in his heart yearned for her as it had yearned through his long life.