People of the Owl(100)

Masked Owl, why haven’t you warned me about this in my Dreams?





Pine Drop followed a deep-forest trail through the gathering dusk; a heavy fabric sack hung over her shoulder and weighted her down with freshly picked bladderwort. The plant was her excuse to walk a half day’s journey to the south and had taken her but a finger of time to collect. The rest of it she had spent satiating herself on Three Stomach’s male member. In the beginning she had hesitated taking him as a lover. The man simply had no brain to go along with that magnificent body of his. The reason for his prodigious appetite was directly related to the fact that he had a lot of body to feed. Three Stomachs was big, muscular, hardy, and endowed with an incredible vitality. His male part was built like the rest of him: huge. The sight of his hardened organ had frightened her the first time, but to her delight, he was skilled enough to prepare her womanhood to accept it without discomfort.

She winced, placing a hand to her abdomen. While she would have liked to blame the cramps on Three Stomachs and the oversize root he slipped into her, the painful irritation had started earlier that week. And Night Rain, too, complained about it. The malady didn’t affect her seriously, but was annoying, peaking about midway through her moon.

You should see the Serpent about it. Yes, she should, but the idea of discussing such a problem with someone who was close to her husband rankled. What if the old shaman went straight to Salamander to say, “Your wife is having female trouble the week before and after she is bedding her lover.”

That assuredly wouldn’t do. And, rot take it, why hadn’t Three Stomach’s seed planted in her womb? It was common knowledge, spoken of in the Women’s House, that a woman took about midway in her cycle. Snakes knew, the man had pumped her full enough times in the passing moons. His own wife had conceived in the last moon. She and Three Stomachs were hoping that this sixth child would be the one who lived.

She followed the trail out from the canopy of trees south of her clan grounds and trudged toward the distant curve of Sun Town’s ridges. In the gloom, she could see the lines of houses, some haloed by cooking fires.

“Greetings, Niece.” Mud Stalker’s voice startled her. He was sitting in the grass, his head and shoulders barely visible. “Sorry to frighten you.”

“Uncle!” She took a breath to resettle her heartbeat. “I didn’t expect to find you out here.”

“Nor did anyone else.” He grunted and climbed to his feet, then gestured toward home. “I had hoped that you would take this trail back. I need to talk to you. Several things have happened. First, I don’t think you should see Three Stomachs again. At least, not as a lover. We are starting to hear talk.”

“Let them talk.” She matched her stride to his, the bag of bladderwort swinging from her shoulder. “I could care less if people know I’m dissatisfied with Salamander now, or later.”

“Ah, yes, but I do care.” He studied her in the darkness. “You are not pregnant, I take it?”

“I won’t know for another half moon, Uncle. Let’s see if I have to retreat to the Women’s House, shall we?” She winced, slowing, a cramp tightening just below her navel.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, Uncle.” She made a face and forced herself to straighten. “It comes and goes. I’ll be over it in a week or so.”

“Here, let me take the bag.” He reached for the sack. “What’s in it?”

“Bladderwort. I’ll look like a perfectly dutiful wife when I prepare it for our household.” She glanced at him, walking with one hand pressed firmly against her abdomen. “So, tell me, Uncle, have you found a lover for Night Rain yet?”

“She must be handled a bit more judiciously.” He had his head cocked, his strong left hand knotted around the sack of bladderwort. “Has she mentioned any young man besides Saw Back? Anyone that might have caught her eye?”

“No. And I have even suggested several. She’s very young, Uncle. She thinks only as far as Saw Back.”

“She’s a woman, no younger than you were when you married Blue Feather.”

“I loved him.” She shook her head, relieved that the cramp was fading. “Give her time, Uncle. She is younger than I was at her age. She has always been unsure, and for the moment, she is confused and unhappy. Marriage hasn’t been what she expected, and I think it will take a while for her resentment to pass. When it does, we can find a man to pair her with. Until then, forcing her to do so might cause us more harm than it will do good.”