People of the Mist(160)
A good woman, Rosebud. He locked his hands behind his back, slopping across the mud in the plaza. All in all,
Nine Killer’s whole family seemed exceptional.
He was comparing different people he’d met from Greenstone Clan—Nine Killer, Yellow Net, White Otter, and Hunting Hawk’s brood—when he approached the doorway to the long house
“Elder?”
He turned at the sharp voice, seeing Hunting Hawk hobbling across from her Great House. Her sassafras walking stick was jabbing fretfully at the mud as she tottered purposefully toward-him.
“Greetings, Weroansqua. It’s a fine day, isn’t it? Just warm enough to melt the snow, but not to dry the ground.”
“Indeed, and tonight, with the warm air, the mist is going to roll in from the bay again. By morning, I won’t be able to see my hand before my face.”
“Better that than a north wind,” Panther said. “Those blow in some bad storms.”
She was close enough now to glare at him. “There’s storms enough, and I’m coming to brew another.” She pointed with her stick. “Rosebud in there?”
“No. I just passed her on the way to the Women’s House. I doubt we’ll see her for another couple of days.”
“Uhm. Shell Comb, too.” Hunting Hawk rubbed her fleshy nose. “Well, step in. You and I need to talk.”
“But this is—”
“My long house It belongs to Greenstone Clan,” she said. “And, I am Greenstone Clan. Come and talk. Some things need to be settled between us, or the War Chief can settle them for me.”
He stared down into her hostile eyes, shrugged, and ducked inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and then he stepped over to the main fire. White Otter looked up, noticed who accompanied him, and beat a hasty retreat to the rear of the long house
“Girl?” Hunting Hawk called. “I want you to go and find something useful to do besides stealing war clubs.” She pointed at the terrified White Otter with her stick. “I won’t forget that little antic of yours for a long, long time.”
White Otter stood in abject terror, frozen like a trapped deer, eyes glazed, mouth open. Then she burst into flight, plunging through the doorway.
Panther lent Hunting Hawk a hand as she settled herself before the fire. He grunted as he lowered himself and snaked the hot pot of squash from the coals. “Don’t you dare punish those girls.”
“As I suspected. I thought Quick Fawn was in on it.” Hunting Hawk gave him a scathing look. “They’re my girls. Greenstone Clan, both of them. I’ll deal with them as I see fit.”
“Well, whatever you’re going to do to them, you do it to me first. I sent them after that war club, so you punish me.” He met her steely stare with one of his own. “Did you hear? You take it out of my hide! Not theirs.”
“You can bet I will! And I’ll deal with the War Chief, too!” she growled. “But, before I slice him into fish bait, you’re going to tell me what that was all about. Nobody steals from a guest in my house! Nobody!”
“It’s about Red Knot’s skull.” Panther searched around and found a turtle shell bowl. With it, he scooped out some of the pale yellow squash and blew to cool it. “Want some?”
“No. But let me remind you, you’re here to talk, not eat.”
“I can eat and talk. Besides, if you decide to order the War Chief to beat my head in, I want it done on a full stomach.”
“Let’s get back to Red Knot’s skull.”
Panther continued to blow to cool the squash. Between breaths, he said, “She was killed with a double-headed club. Not everyone knows that. Only Green Serpent and the priests, Nine Killer, and now, you. Copper Thunder has a two-headed club. We needed to check it against the holes in your granddaughter’s head. It didn’t fit.”
Hunting Hawk might have been wood, staring at the fire. No expression crossed her face as she considered this new information. Panther could barely see her breathing.
Panther pronounced his squash palatable, and scooped some from the turtle shell bowl to his mouth.
“Who are you?” Hunting Hawk asked quietly.
“That depends on who you ask. Most people think I’m a witch. That’s an oddity I’ve still to accustom myself to. To others, I’m a withered old man living a hermit’s life out on an—”
“Who are you?” She raised her unforgiving eyes. “I tolerated you in the beginning because you were a way out of a bad situation—and I’d take any escape I could to keep this alliance together. Now, I’m not sure. Before I leave here, I’m going to know if I made a mistake or not.” She paused. “Understand?”