People of the Raven(34)
He nodded as he withdrew the second denticulate white shell and placed it in a pouch at his belt. “In the past we’d get lucky and find a dentalium shell lodged in a deep water crab pot or fish trap. They wash ashore so very rarely, and even then they’re usually broken.”
She nodded. Of all the wealth, dentalium shells were the most sought after. The ten that ringed the collar on her good dress had been part of her bride price. Toget had offered them on the night of their marriage, fully aware of the fact he was marrying into the Ash Fall Clan, the most prestigious of the North Wind clans. His clan had scraped and sacrificed to be able to accumulate that wealth.
Her vision blurred as she thought back to that night, to the world that was no longer hers.
“So, now you know,” Rain Bear said as he began fitting the poles back together.
She shook herself to clear her head, and lifted the next of the poles up and into place for him to bind. “Why me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you show this to me?”
He sighed. “I’m not sure, really. Perhaps it is because you have placed your trust in me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it does. How do you know I won’t turn you over to Ecan in return for something like dentalium?”
“Because you gave your word.”
“One’s word can be broken.”
“Or maybe because you were married to Tlikit for all those years.”
He gave her a wary sidelong glance. “That was in a different world.”
“At the time she left Fire Village, she was in line to rule the Council. People still can’t understand why she did that—gave up her heritage to marry a slave warrior. For a long time, it puzzled me, too.”
His jaw muscles jumped as he pulled the knots tight.
She studied him with narrowed eyes as she pulled out another of the wet poles and lifted it high. “I don’t think the man that Tlikit placed that much faith and love in is the type to break his word.”
“Perhaps not.” The muscles in his brown forearms corded as he pulled the knots tight. “We were so young then.” He smiled at the memories that lay just behind his eyes. “I used to worry that over time her regrets would accumulate. If they did, she never let on. Until the end, she was … well, let’s say that everyone deserves at least one remarkable love during their lifetimes.”
The longing in his voice touched her. Had she ever had a remarkable love? With her mother and daughter, yes. But certainly not with Toget. She could have traded him for another husband without a thought had circumstances required.
She blurted, “I’ve never loved like that.”
He studied her, a softness in his vulnerable brown eyes. “You have a long life ahead of you, Matron. Finish your mourning; find some peace for yourself. Only then can you begin to build your life again.”
“Have you found peace for yourself, Chief, or are you still in mourning?”
He didn’t answer her, turning instead to the long length of pole he lowered into the water. “It’s a remarkably tedious chore, this fishing for dentalium. Don’t expect that we’ll bring up two shells with every try. I’ve done this for days and only recovered one or two.”
She nodded. “You never know, Great Chief. Sometimes you get lucky more than once.”
He said nothing in reply, and she felt a curious stirring in the darkness of grief and pain. What was it about this taciturn man who wore the cares of his people like a cape of stone?
Fear rode like a burden on Pitch’s shoulders as he trotted up the trail, barely making a sound. Almost invisible shapes—silhouetted against the snow—slipped between the dark trunks behind them, there one instant, gone the next. In the falling snow and darkness, it was almost impossible to see them.
“Dzoo, where are they?”
“Stay in front of me,” she whispered. “Don’t look back.”
The trail, a white slash in the darkness, narrowed and wound through a thick grove of firs, brush, and boulders taller than a man. The baleful eyes of crows glared out at them from the limbs. Their occasional caws broke the predawn quiet.
Pitch whispered, “Why is he just following us? Why doesn’t he attack?”
She turned slightly. Her pointed nose, full lips, and a single dark eye shone against the dark rim of her hood. “He is like Brother Wolf. Patient. He knows our final Dance will come. For the moment, it is you we must protect.”
The stealthy crunch of footfalls behind them affected Pitch like fists in his belly. He hated being driven like a blacktailed deer into a surround. And truth be told, he chafed at having to rely on Dzoo for protection. It should be the other way around. She was the more valuable, a great Healer and Soul Flyer, while he was but a practicing young Singer.