“I thought I saw movement behind me.” Anhinga closed her eyes and hugged her bulging belly protectively.
“I didn’t want to get too close,” Salamander told her. “It was difficult, racing after you, then having to slow down and wait for you to get out of sight.”
“Why didn’t you call to me?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “If you had been safe, I would have turned around and left.” He inspected his ax, picking at bits of dark red in the binding. “You didn’t ask me to come here, Anhinga. This is your time with your own people.”
She stared. Why would you do that? Surely you know I come here to plot against you! Aloud she said, “I don’t understand.”
His dark brown eyes seemed to see right through her. Another shiver ran down her spine as he said, “You must be free to follow your heart, Wife. Wherever that takes you. Whatever the price.”
By the Sky Beings, what did he mean by that?
“She could have been killed,” Striped Dart’s accented voice interrupted. “This is too dangerous.”
“What do we do, Brother-in-law?” Salamander asked. “If you come farther north, someone—like Eats Wood—will take the opportunity to kill you.”
Anhinga glanced back at the oak, feeling the presence of the corpse lying there in the blood-soaked grass. Snakes! What is Pine Drop going to say? Eats Wood is her cousin.
Striped Dart finally said, “If she will not come home with me to the Panther’s Bones, she is safer staying in Sun Town until the child is born.” He looked up at Salamander and smiled. “It would seem that you are more than capable of protecting her.”
“When she’s not battering her enemies herself,” Salamander replied. She could tell from his expression that he didn’t feel the levity he projected.
“I was told that you were a fool.” Thick muscles slid under Striped Dart’s smooth brown skin. “But my uncle, he sees things differently than I do.”
“Many people call me a fool,” Salamander replied.
“But you’re not, are you?” Striped Dart asked.
Salamander’s lips twitched. “Can any of us truly know that he is not a fool, Brother-in-law? I doubt myself all the time.”
Anhinga blinked, as if seeing her husband anew. He seemed so controlled, possessed of a calm sadness. He had just killed his first man—one of his own, someone he knew, not a stranger. He sat across from an enemy, yet he might have been comfortably at his mother’s fire rather than deep in Swamp Panther territory with the corpse of Pine Drop’s cousin weighing on his souls.
Striped Dart’s eyes narrowed. “I did not approve of Anhinga going north. I did not approve of this ‘peace’ of his. Our sandstone is ours, given to us by the Creator at the beginning of the world.” Striped Dart shot Salamander a steely look, daring him to disagree.
“You speak truthfully, Striped Dart. I cannot second-guess the Creator’s reasons for placing things where he did when he made the world.” Salamander stood and slashed his ax through the air to fling the water off, then walked over to lower himself beside Anhinga. He took her hand, rubbing his fingers across her soft brown skin. The touch soothed her as he added, “In Sun Town, we have a need for sandstone.”
Striped Dart said bitterly. “Along with your thefts, your people killed my brother—and countless others over the turnings of the seasons!”
“We were wrong.” His dark brown eyes seemed to suck up her souls. She felt a tingle run through her as he said, “For that I apologize.” He turned his attention to her brother. “Looking back, Striped Dart, one cannot say who started this or who is more wronged. The sandstone is yours. For now Jaguar Hide has offered us safe passage to take one canoe load each moon.”
Anhinga took a deep breath, relieved at the cool air pumping into her oddly starved lungs. Salamander saved my life. This is the second time. I owe him for that. But how did she balance that against her vow to strike back in the names of Bowfin and her friends? Just being here, in the presence of her brother, rubbed the wound raw again.
Striped Dart was giving Salamander a hot look. “I tell you now—do not come for sandstone again, Brother-in-law. My people will kill yours.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It is our sandstone. Why should we allow you to have it just because you promise not to kill us while you help yourselves?”
“We have a peace,” Salamander reminded, “but for one, I do not wish to send my kinsmen where they are not wanted.” He steepled his fingers, thinking. “Jaguar Hide told me that we could have one canoe load per moon, but that if we wanted to take two, we would have to send a load of gifts.” He glanced at Striped Dart. “You are right, Brother-in-law, it is not equitable.”