People of the Mist(34)
Sun Conch bowed low, her forehead almost touching the dirt. Cautiously, she poured the remains into the empty bowl before Okeus. Then looked up at Panther. “Aren’t you going to ask his blessing?”
“No.”
Panther let the flap drop and walked over to his fire. He settled himself on his log and picked up the boiled oyster drill. With a splinter, he coaxed the body out of the interior; then he plucked off the horny plate and popped the animal into his mouth. As he chewed, he used the corner of his breech clout to rub the moss from the shell’s exterior.
Sun Conch returned slowly, glancing back and forth between Panther and Okeus’ shrine.
“Sit down, girl. You’re not ready for the answer yet.” Panther squinted at the polished shell, and belched.
Sun Conch just stood, frowning.
Panther didn’t even look at her. “Why should I become entangled with this mess your friend High Fox has gotten himself into?”
After a long silence, Sun Conch said, “I’m sure Black Spike would pay you handsomely for defending his son.”
“I see. And what could he give me that I don’t already have?”
“He’s the Weroance. He is paid whatever tribute he asks from his people. You could have corn, copper, tobacco, steatite, greenstone, shell, puccoon… why, anything.”
“I grow or gather enough food for my needs. The same with tobacco. Copper and puccoon? Those are for showing off, proclaiming wealth and status. Who would I preen for? The seagulls? They don’t care, and, frankly, neither do I. Stone for making tools? I’ve already built everything I need.”
She shifted uncomfortably, and the bright feathers of her cape shimmered in the firelight. “You must want something.”
“What I want, no man can offer me.” Then, on impulse, he gave Sun Conch an evil glare worthy of Okeus. “What about you?”
“I want to save—”
“No. What about you? What if I want you? Hmm? If I go and speak for this friend of yours, will you give yourself to me? Become my slave? Live here and do my bidding? Is it worth that much to you, Sun Conch? Do you believe in ‘right’ enough to sacrifice yourself in your friend’s place? Give up your clan and family? How about your very soul?” Panther laughed at the girl’s horrified expression. “Ah, I see. Well, no matter. I’ve actually enjoyed talking to you. Tomorrow, the weather will be calm again. Go. Tell your beloved High Fox that I wish him luck.”
Like a puffer fish losing water, Sun Conch wilted to the ground. Her cape spread around her.
Panther finished polishing his shell, and stood. “I’m going to sleep now-, girl. As you value your life, don’t bother me. Oh, and I’d push off before sunrise. The water is quietest at that time of day.”
Panther left her there, looking sad, and ducked inside his house. He laid the shell on his bed, and eased the loose thatch aside. Slipping out into the darkness, he replaced the thatch and glided into the woods. In the shadow of an old oak he slithered down under the leaves, sighed, and tried to sleep.
But the girl’s words kept haunting him: “/’// see it through his eyes, live it with him. Wondering how, and why, a man could love a woman with all of his heart-and then be condemned for her murder! How would you feel, Elder, if it happened to you ?”
Why had he been so hard on her? Because she had seen into his soul? Understood his pain, and shame?
Panther growled to himself. His thoughts chased themselves around and around.
Panther lay under the leaves until long after the morning’s light had grayed the skies, giving young Sun Conch more than enough time to paddle off for the Western Shore. He listened to the birds, and studied the drifting puffs of cloud. Finally, he brushed the leaves away and forced his rickety bones to rise.
When he strolled into his house clearing, Sun Conch was kneeling before the smoking fire pit, her head bowed.
He bellowed, “What are you doing here?”
Sun Conch turned, and Panther could see courage in every line of her round face. Long black hair draped her chest. “I thought about it all night, Elder. You are right. If a thing is truly just, then a person must be willing to do whatever is necessary to assure it.” She looked at him with clear eyes. “If you will speak for High Fox, I will give myself to you, for… for whatever you wish to do with me.”
Panther experienced the oddest sensation, as if his heart had just dropped through his stomach.
Nine Killer sat in the middle room of Hunting Hawk’s long house the interior lit by a crackling fire that sent sparks and thin tendrils of smoke up toward the domed ceiling. Dancing yellow light cast shadows on the support poles, the hanging baskets, braids of corncobs, sacks of herbs, and the people who sat around the fire.