People of the Owl(85)

Salamander cocked an eyebrow as Hazel Fire pulled the little red owl from his pouch.

“This owl has brought me Dreams.” He held it before his sober brown eyes, studying it thoughtfully. “I have thought about the day you talked to the alligator. You wear Power the way other men wear a cloak.”

“I’m just me.” But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be himself any longer. Nothing led him to believe that things were going to get better. Many Colored Crow speaking to him at his initiation had frightened him. As of that moment, the Spirit World had taken on a threatening quality.

“Your people see you through slitted eyes.” Hazel Fire turned the little polished owl in the light. “Sometimes it takes a stranger to look at a man with his eyes wide open. I speak for all of us when I tell you we are honored to know you.”

“I had a Dream last night,” Salamander said cautiously. “It concerned you.”

“I would hear your Dream.” Hazel Fire gave him a clear-eyed look.

“In it I saw you reach the mouth of a great river that fed in from the east. High bluffs rise on that eastern bank. Raiders lie in wait there. They have a camp on a stone outcrop that overlooks the Father Water. From there they can see who passes on the river.”

“You saw this?” Jackdaw asked uneasily. “From the river?”

“No, I was riding on Masked Owl’s wings. Circling high above. These raiders, they wear black stripes on their faces and do not honor the Power of Trade. In the Dream, you passed the mouth of that river at night and no harm came to you. Do you know this place?”

Hazel Fire nodded. “It sounds like the mouth of the Great Eastern River that feeds the Father Water. What if we were to pass during the day?”

“The raiders will sweep down on you. In loaded canoes, you will not be able to outrun them. On the open water, flooded as that place will be, you will make easy targets.”

“Why do you tell us this thing?” Jackdaw asked, clearly uneasy.

“You are my friends.” Salamander smiled. “You are good men. Kin to me through marriage. We are bound by the gift of that carved owl. I would have you return in safety to my brother’s wife and his little daughter.”

“You know that Lark had a girl?” Hazel Fire narrowed a skeptical eye.

“She has a birthmark, like a flower petal on her hip.” He pointed to the fleshy swell of his own hip to mark the place. “If you pass that place I have told you of with great care, you may yet see that mark on my brother’s daughter.”

“I would dearly like to see that.” Hazel Fire had turned his attention to the gleaming stone owl. “We will deliver those goods to your house, Mud Puppy.”

“They call him Salamander now,” Jackdaw reminded.

“Yes, yes.” Hazel Fire shot Salamander a sidelong gaze as he raised the small carved owl in his fingers. “We live far away, my friend. I know not what I can ever do for you, but by the Power in this owl, I will do what I can to help you.”

“I ask only for your Trade. That, and that you beware at the mouth of the Great Eastern River. They will be waiting for you there. It would pain my souls if they caught you.”

“We hear your words, Salamander. And are warned.” Hazel Fire gave him a wary scrutiny. “You are headed for great things, young friend.”

He smiled sadly. “Greatness and tragedy seem to embrace like lovers.”





Twenty

Wreaths and streamers of rain cascaded from the low bank of afternoon clouds as Pine Drop, Night Rain, and Mud Stalker stood on the high embankment above the canoe landing. In silence they watched the Wolf Traders lean into their paddles, pushing their heavily laden canoes toward the channel that would take them east to the Father Water.

Yellow Spider accompanied them in his empty canoe, leading the way lest they get lost in the backswamps.

A number of people had come to wish the Traders off on their long journey homeward. The three Wolf canoes bulged with goods produced in Sun Town: woodwork, rope, netting, black drink, smoke-cured alligator meat, red snapper, black drum, smoked conch, and other delicacies from the gulf that were Traded through Sun Town via its extended clans.

“I wish it was Yellow Spider that we were going to marry,” Night Rain whispered. “He’s a handsome young man. He’s been to the north and has prospects for a great future.”

“That is precisely why Salamander is the one you must marry,” Mud Stalker replied. “I could not have planned better myself. You should have seen the young fool. He had half the Men’s House in a panic before his initiation was complete. Even the Serpent, who believes in the young fool, was driven away by the rantings.”