“But I don’t think High Fox killed her!” Flat Willow shot a measuring look at Black Spike. “He wouldn’t! He loved her!”
A gasp came from the crowd. Shell Comb had fire dancing in her eyes. Black Spike broke free of the restraining hand and took a step forward, shoulders bunched, veins standing out on his arms. “What are you saying, hunter?”
Copper Thunder stood with his muscular arms crossed, a neutral expression on his face, but those crafty black eyes betrayed the thoughts racing within his skull.
“It was the White Stake raiders!” Shell Comb stepped to place herself between Flat Willow and Black Spike. “The lying vermin stopped the marriage, all right. They killed her—and then sought to appear here and misdirect us! We can’t let this pass! The sooner we strike, the better. Before they prepare!”
Copper Thunder’s eyebrow rose in the faintest surprise.
Hunting Hawk hitched around on her walking stick. “And your thoughts on this, Great Tayac?”
Copper Thunder gave Shell Comb a flat stare and said, “For the moment, I’ll reserve my judgment. We’ve seen at least two sides to this trouble. I wonder how many more will turn up now that the anthill has been kicked.”
Black Spike stepped forward, a fist clenched. “And what of my son?”
“We don’t know yet.” Hunting Hawk studied his strained face. He looked terrified, and angry.
Turning back to Red Knot’s swaying body, Hunting Hawk asked, “How did she die?”
“A blow to the head, Weroansqua.” Nine Killer bent down to pull the blood-clotted hair back from the side of the girl’s head. “She was struck here, the blow powerful enough to crush the skull. If you feel, the bone broke inward, into her brain. She must have died instantly.” “Was anything found near her?”
Nine Killer held up a necklace from which dangled a shark’s tooth, pearls, and shell beads. “This, Weroansqua. Flat Willow says he found it in her right hand.”
Black Spike made a strangled sound, and turned rapidly away, calling out, “I’ve had enough of this! My people and I are leaving!” Eyes glittering, he pointed at Hunting Hawk. “If you wish more of me, or my people, Weroansqua, you come with your warriors to get it!”
Hunting Hawk watched him stalk away, gesturing angrily at the rest of his people, and a sick sensation deadened her heart. Three Myrtle had been her staunches! ally over the years. Granted, High Fox was Black Spike’s son, but how could a simple shark’s tooth drive such a wedge between them?
She took a. step, ready to hobble after him, but Shell Comb’s hand caught her by the shoulder. “Let him go, Mother. This is a shock, that’s all. Let him settle down, and we’ll send him a message clearing his son.”
Hunting Hawk shot an inquisitive look at her daughter. “Will we? If you ask me, young High Fox is the most likely culprit here.”
Shell Comb lifted her chin. “Is he? When the forest is crawling with White Stake warriors? Come, Mother, let’s be realistic. Who has the most to gain here? Water Snake, that’s who. Look at what he’s done! With one murder he’s stopped a marriage and alliance between us and the’ Pipestone Clan. He’s strained a friendship that goes back generations between us and Three Myrtle-our clan brothers! If this isn’t a master stroke, what is?”
“And you think we should go to war with White Stake over it?” “Yes!” Shell Comb stepped up to Copper Thunder, searching his eyes. “And what of you, Great Tayac? This is a slap to your face, as well as ours. Corn Hunter has killed your wife! Done it with impunity! Are you willing to just stand there and take it, or will you join us in bringing this beast to his knees?”
Copper Thunder seemed nonplussed. “For the moment, I will bide my time, wait and see. If it appears that this petty Weroance did indeed kill my Red Knot, then I shall act. But in my own good time, and in a way he, and his Mamanatowick, will regret in this life and the next.”
Hunting Hawk fingered her chin. The Three Myrtle villagers who were leaving shoved their canoes out into the water and piled in. In shocked silence they set their paddles and stroked away, the Vs of their wakes spreading behind them.
Something is not right here. She felt as if she were looking at a broken pot, and half the pieces were missing.
“Nine Killer,” she called, “do you think the White Stake warriors did this to us?” “No, Weroansqua!” But just as soon as he said it, he cast a wary glance at Shell Comb, looking for all the world as if he’d like nothing more than to retract that statement. Lamely, he added, “At least, it doesn’t seem likely. Winged Blackbird’s war party could have caught her, killed her, and left no trace. Skilled as they are. But it doesn’t feel right.”