He laughed. “How did you come to be such an expert? You’re but three winters older than I.”
“I’ve been married for nearly two of those winters,” she replied tartly. “My husband, like you, is a young man. Believe me, I have learned about appetites and desire.” She lowered her voice, “But your mother may not remember when she was young, filled with a craving for a man’s flesh inside her canoe. So we’ll share this secret—just the two of us.”
He nodded as they crested the rise. The Men’s House loomed to the left. The large thatched building dominated the western side of the irregularly flattened mound. Above the centerline atop the roof, carved wooden effigies of Snapping Turtle, Eagle, and Rattlesnake stood against the afternoon sky. The totems of war glared out at the world with painted eyes, beaks, fangs, and talons raised to remind the world that Sun Town’s warriors and hunters were to be feared.
Lifting a hand, he placed it on Water Petal’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
She gave him a knowing glance, a faint smile hiding behind her full lips. “Remember, Cousin, I am here for you. Now, as well as in the future.”
He recognized the wariness in his breast for what it was: the realization that the world would never remain as it was today. He met her gaze and nodded, not in commitment, but in acknowledgment. Would she be the one he wanted for Clan Elder after Wing Heart was gone? Could they forge that kind of relationship? The same sort his mother had had with his uncle?
“Where do you want her?” Yellow Spider interrupted his thoughts as they approached the Men’s House.
“Lay the dead ones out in a line there.” White Bird pointed to the shoulder of the mound. “As to the girl, tie her to the sunset post. Just the way you would a captured alligator.”
Yellow Spider nodded as he and Eats Wood carried the girl over. Though she still hung limply in their arms, White Bird was certain that he saw her eyes flicker. Snakes, could she be awake? If so, she must have the self-control of a piece of stone. A blow to the head like that should have been agonizing, and the pain of her hanging head would have felt as if her skull were exploding.
“Tie her carefully!” White Bird added. “I think she is a tricky one. I can’t take the time right now to cut her tendons—and I don’t want her in a position to wiggle herself free when no one is watching.”
“I’ll cut her tendons for you,” Eats Wood chimed in. He had his hand on her bared breast again, and White Bird could see the girl’s brown nipple pinched between his callused fingers.
“No!” White Bird barked, angered by the man’s familiarity with the captive. “I want to do it. She’s mine, property of Owl Clan. Thank you for your service in bearing her here. I am obliged.”
Eats Wood gave him a sour nod, released his hold on her, and allowed her torso to drop soddenly to the ground. The girl’s head bounced on the packed silt. White Bird was sure he caught the painful wince before she could hide it. No matter, with Yellow Spider doing the binding, she wasn’t going anywhere. For his part, he had the ceremonies and war cleansing to attend to in the Men’s House. Even as he turned toward the large thatched building, he could smell the pungent odor of black drink wafting from within.
Mother Sun painted the evening sky with a marvelous display of red-orange, a fire spun through the clouds. The western horizon—glowing like a liquid blaze—outlined the high peak of the Bird’s Head in a purple silhouette. So, too, did the marvelous sunset cast the curving ranks of house-topped ridges in perfect profile. The effect could be likened to a series of peg teeth on a giant jaw fixed to snap shut and crunch Wing Heart’s very bones.
She sat under the worn ramada on the southern side of Cloud Heron’s ominously dark house and watched Thunder Tail, the Speaker of the Eagle Clan, striding away, his long frame like a dancing shadow in the elongated dusk.
“Perhaps it is time to renew our obligations to Owl Clan,” he had said. “We have a long and mutually beneficial history, your clan and mine. With the death of an old Speaker, perhaps it is time for Eagle Clan to marry one of its young women to a new Speaker.”
“I suppose that you have someone special in mind?” she had asked. His somber expression had belied nothing as he fingered the bear claws hanging from his necklace. Always a canny player was Thunder Tail.
“I would have you consider young Green Beetle. She is just a woman, strong, with a smile that would melt your young man’s heart.”
To that she had offered some platitude concerning Green Beetle’s charms but remained noncommittal.