People of the Mist(53)
Panther stared at the trees, and shouted, “Who is in charge of the Flat Pearl war party?”
A short, burly man with shoulders like a ledge stepped out from behind a huge oak. He carried a thick-wristed bow, with an arrow nocked. His bandy legs might have been carved from stumps.
“You speak to Nine Killer, War Chief of Flat Pearl Village. What is your purpose here, witch?”
“Surly sort, isn’t he?” Panther asked his companions.
Sun Conch came forward to stand beside him. “He’s the most respected war leader among the Independent villages.”
“Huh! He looks trapped, if you ask me.” Panther raised his voice. “What is happening here?”
Black Spike took an uncertain step. “The raiders came in the night to take High Fox by force. We were warned that they were coming. Last night, in the darkness, two of my warriors, Big Noise and Wind, swam around behind them and pushed their canoes away. We surrounded them and waited for morning. When Nine Killer would not surrender, we decided to attack.”
Panther turned. “You, Nine Killer, step out here!”
The squat warrior stood fast. “Why should I trust myself to you, night traveler?”
“Because I’m here to sort this matter out. And, from what I can see, you and your warriors are about to be killed at best, or captured, studded with slivers of pitch pine and set afire. Now, do you want to take a chance that I can save your life, and those of your men, or do you want me to sing an incantation that makes Black Spike’s warriors invincible?”
“Save their lives?” Black Spike cried. “Impossible! We’re going to kill them right here and now!”
Panther spun on his heel, glaring into Black Spike’s eyes until they dropped. “Perhaps I will fester that wounded arm of yours. I think I could swell it up like a putrid corpse’. The fever will burn your sense away while pus drips like rainwater. Why, you’d rave yourself to death in three days.”
Black Spike wavered, worked his mouth, and nodded. “We will listen to your words, Elder.”
“Fine, that’s sense, for once.” Panther indicated the warriors crowding behind Black Spike. “The rest of you, go away. Leave your Weroance here. He will be safe.” Panther faced Nine Killer. “Come forward, War Chief. We will talk.”
“I don’t trust you!”
Panther pointed at the retreating Three Myrtle warriors. “Would you rather trust them? I’m here to determine the truth of the accusations against High Fox. If you have no interest in making that determination, Nine Killer, I might just as well let Black Spike kill you, and go back to my island.”
Nine Killer hesitated, then handed his bow to a warrior who stepped out from the trees. The War Chief walked warily forward.
Panther waited, arms crossed, foot tapping the damp grass. When Nine Killer was within five paces he stopped, and his hands tightened into fists. The action made the thick muscle of his forearms swell and writhe. He shot a piercing glance first at High Fox, then Black Spike, skimmed over Sun Conch, and finally turned on Panther. “So, you’re the famous night traveler? I’ve never seen a witch before.”
“Hah!” Panther snorted. “That’s what gullible fools claim. Myself, in all my years, I’ve never really believed in witches. Men and women with Power, yes. But witches, War Chief”—Panther tapped the side of his head—“it’s all in here. A creation of the imagination.”
Panther cast a glance at Black Spike, who scowled angrily at Nine Killer. The Weroance had his wounded arm tucked to his chest. He looked pale, all color drained from his face, as if the slightest breeze would knock him over.
“Imagination?” Nine Killer asked skeptically.
“Imagination carries its own Power, War Chief. A Power more intimidating than the combined forces of all your warriors with their bows and war clubs.”
“This is empty talk. What are you here for, witch? What is your purpose with this deceitful dog?” Black Spike asked, his hot glare pinning Nine Killer.
Panther reached out and pulled the nervous High Fox forward. “This young warrior has been accused of murder. Young Red Knot is dead, as I understand it. Sun Conch came to me, told me that the Independent villages were about to come apart like an unfired pot in a rainstorm. And now, when I arrive here, I find that her words carried a great deal of truth. As I remember, Three Myrtle and Flat Pearl were the heart of the alliance that kept the Independent villages out of the Mamanatowick’s grasp.”
“Why do you care, witch?” Nine Killer crossed his arms.
“About the fate of the Independent villages?” Panther shrugged. “I don’t. If the Mamanatowick captures all of you, it won’t affect me. The sun will continue to rise, travel across the sky, and set in the west. The snows will come, followed by planting. Summer will nourish the plants and trees, and harvest will follow. The leaves will turn and fall and winter will come again. People will continue to be born, grow, live, and die.”