Anhinga discovered that she couldn’t swallow. Fear had gripped the bottom of her throat until breathing was hard. Find yourself, curse you! If you can’t face this, how are you going to stay here among them?
“Butchered is precisely the word.” Jaguar Hide lifted his arms, the ax held high. “Murdered, killed, slain, what does it matter what we call it? The effect is the same, be it in Sun Town or in the Panther’s Bones! We wail and grieve for the lives and souls of our dead loved ones. How many generations have we done this? More than I can relate. Can any of you tell me when this started, how far back?”
A voice called, “It began just after the Creation when the Hero Twins began to battle each other. We have been fighting ever since.” The speaker, what looked to be a mere boy, stepped to the fore. Thin, he might have been half-starved. His face was taut, as if he were frightened by speaking out in the presence of his Elders. He pinned Anhinga with large dark eyes that seemed to fill his bony face. “It goes back forever.”
That voice! It touched Anhinga’s souls. She noticed that the Elders had turned disapproving eyes on the skinny boy, distaste in the set of their lips.
“The boy is correct,” Jaguar Hide agreed. “And I, for one, am ready to try something new.”
“Why?” A muscular brown man, his face deeply lined by countless days in the sun, asked. “I am Deep Hunter, Speaker of the Alligator Clan, and I would know why Jaguar Hide, who fought so many battles and killed my brother, would come here asking for peace.”
Anhinga watched her uncle’s face, seeing the slight tic in the corner of his eye. Yes, he knew this Deep Hunter.
“Greetings, Speaker. It has been a long time since you and I faced each other.”
“We could take that up where we left it.” Deep Hunter’s voice had dropped to a growl.
“We could, but it would make more sense if we didn’t.” Jaguar Hide fingered his ax and stared out from lowered brows. “I have grieved enough in one lifetime, and caused enough others to grieve, that I would find another way.”
“Why?” the middle-aged woman beside Mud Stalker asked. “I have been told all of my life that you hate us. What has changed your mind?”
Jaguar Hide smiled, his voice firm. “Oh, I do hate you. Do not believe for a moment that anything we do here today will stop that.”
Anhinga tightened as a ripple ran through the crowd.
Jaguar Hide let it hang for a moment before adding, “But I can still hate you without killing your young people. I can hate without hacking their dead bodies apart in a futile attempt to frighten their souls. I can hate you without having to bury one of my young men or women every other moon.”
Uncle thrust a hard finger toward Deep Hunter. “And so can you! You can hate us without killing us!” A pause in the tense silence. “Who knows, perhaps as we are taken by other means of death, our young people might not hate as we have. Perhaps they will do things differently than we did.”
“I still do not understand this,” Mud Stalker said warily. “What do you have to gain by peace?”
“The lives of my young people.” Jaguar Hide cocked his head. “And you, and your clans, have sandstone to gain, as well as your young people’s lives.”
“We can take your sandstone anyway,” Deep Hunter growled.
“Yes, you can,” Jaguar Hide agreed. “But at what price, old enemy? Your nephew? Your grandson?” He shook his head. “I am not here to trick you. I am here to offer you sandstone in return for leaving us alone. I am not fool enough to think that we will remake our world, or forget our hatred and live like brothers. I want to try this for a couple of summers, that is all. Who knows, it may be that we really enjoy hunting and killing each other and burning our children’s bones in grief.” His sad smile seemed to touch them more than the logic of his argument.
“How will this work?” the skinny boy asked before the others could.
That voice! Yes, she knew that voice. But from the darkness, hands fumbling at knots. The sweet words, “I’m cutting you free,” echoed in her memory. This forward youth, he had been the mysterious shadow in the night?
Uncle said, “From this moment, you will not raid our territory. In return we will allow one canoe per moon to come and take sandstone. If you wish to send two canoes for sandstone, the second must bring gifts for my people. That is all.” Jaguar Hide crossed his arms.
“And how do we know you will keep your word?” Deep Hunter’s jaw was cocked.
“I bring my niece, Anhinga. I will marry her to the son of Wing Heart, Elder of the Owl Clan. Wing Heart’s reputation has traveled far and wide as the greatest among you. We believe that she, of all of you, will see the advantages to this agreement between our peoples.”