People of the Raven(45)
White Stone shouted, “We will not surrender our arms!” His warriors crouched in a defensive circle, gripping weapons in sweaty hands.
Rain Bear looked straight at Ecan. “You claim to be on a peaceful mission. If that is true, you will not need arms. And, regardless, I will not allow you to enter Matron Weedis’s village with armed warriors. We will keep your weapons here. You may retrieve them after the ceremonial.”
Ecan’s jaw clenched. His warriors shot panicked looks back and forth, waiting for his instructions. “You will leave us defenseless. What if we are attacked on the trail?”
“My warriors will protect you with their lives.” Rain Bear looked at Running Cat, and the muscular young man squared his shoulders. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Chief,” Running Cat said. “But I will need at least two tens of warriors to protect them.”
“Call upon as many men as you require.”
“And if we refuse!” Ecan declared hotly.
“You may deal with them.” Rain Bear waved at the angry refugees.
While Running Cat trotted through the crowd, speaking to warriors, Ecan’s angry gaze turned on Evening Star. She stood stiffly, looking as if about to explode.
Talon leaned sideways and whispered, “Let me send some of my warriors along.”
In a low voice, Rain Bear replied, “If something happens, I want them to blame us. Not you. Your clan has suffered enough.”
Talon’s bushy brows pulled together. “Very well, but you won’t mind if a party of my warriors follows yours up the trail, will you?”
“No, if you will give me your word that they will make no trouble.”
“It is given.”
Running Cat trotted back through the shifting crowd with a large party of warriors. He walked straight to White Stone and said, “War Chief, order your men to lay down their weapons.”
White Stone gritted his teeth, measured the hungry faces of the people encircling him, and turned his hot eyes on Rain Bear. They traded looks; then White Stone growled, “Put down your weapons!”
His warriors pulled war clubs, stilettos, and knives from their belts and placed them on top of their casting spears. The little boy removed a crude stone knife from his belt and laid it down with the rest. Rain Bear saw a button nose sniffing from inside the pack. The boy did carry a puppy.
Running Cat turned to Rain Bear. “Shall we escort them up the trail now, my Chief?”
“Yes. Detail a runner to go ahead and tell Matron Weedis you are coming.”
Running Cat nodded and used his spear to gesture to Ecan. “You may proceed, Starwatcher.”
Ecan’s lips curled into an unpleasant smile. He gripped the boy’s hand again and gave Evening Star a final promissory glance as he passed.
Villagers followed in a flood, shouting curses, waving fists and weapons. In a matter of heartbeats, the area around Rain Bear was virtually empty.
Pitch said, “Thank the Spirits. I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since he arrived.”
“I don’t think any of us has,” Rain Bear said.
Evening Star said with quiet urgency, “I told you the truth. He’s going to attack you.”
“Just your presence in the village might have made him change his mind,” Rain Bear interrupted. “Let us wait and see.”
Her blue eyes glittered. “That’s not wise. Kill him while you can.”
“No. Not yet.”
Talon said, “Well, if you will permit me, I must organize a party of warriors to follow yours. Great Chief, I’ll meet you back here in a finger of time, and we will go look at that body.”
Rain Bear nodded, and Talon trotted off toward his camp.
The last of the angry villagers rounded the bend in the trail and disappeared, but their hostile voices continued to float through the forest like a foul miasma. The only people left sitting around the campfires were the very old and the very young. Even the wounded had managed to pull themselves to their feet to join the mob following in Ecan’s wake.
Roe struggled to pull Pitch’s good arm over her shoulders. “Father, could you help me get Pitch to our lodge?”
“Here, let me support him.” She moved out of the way, and Rain Bear draped Pitch’s good arm over his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. “Walk slowly, Pitch. We don’t wish to break open that wound.”
Glancing back up the trail, Rain Bear remembered the expression on Ecan’s face: knowing, smug. Why? What had happened here? Somehow it had all gone just the way Ecan had hoped it would.
Fifteen
Snowbear clamped his left hand over his belly wound and used his right to quietly push aside a fir bough; he eased past, and the wolf tails on his blood-streaked moccasins whispered against the brush. When he released the bough, it bounced and swayed, stirring the thick mist that eddied through the trees.