“Is that better, Tsauz?” she asked in the cultured voice of a North Wind matron.
His fingers sank deeper into the dead puppy’s fur, but he said nothing.
They had just finished the trek down the mountain to Sandy Point Village after the ceremonial. People had packed the trail; each one wanted to be close to Tsauz—most for the purpose of killing him. Others, who had witnessed the Blessing of the Moon that had fallen on the boy, had the glazed eyes of desperate worshippers. Several fights had broken out when people leaped for the boy and the guards had to beat them back.
Evening Star thanked the Spirits that the storms had passed over, leaving a clear starry sky, but the temperature barely hovered around freezing. Every breath she exhaled frosted in the cold air.
Roe sat across the fire from them. She had been gradually adding wood to keep the blaze going. Her infant son, Stonecrop, slept at her feet, his body wrapped in a bundle of blankets. Five paces away, Rain Bear, Dogrib, and Pitch stood talking. Their gazes kept straying to the camps. All around Sandy Point Village and down along the beach people lay rolled in blankets and hides. A few fires glimmered against the darkness.
Food was becoming a concern. The fishermen had managed to kill a whale and tow its carcass in to shore. It had taken the edge off, but it wasn’t enough. In addition to the fights on the way down, they’d heard grumbles about how little food they’d had at the ceremonial.
“Tsauz,” Roe gently asked, “why don’t you let me take Runner and lay him by the fire where he’ll be warm?”
“No!” He held tight to the dead puppy.
Evening Star exchanged a worried glance with Roe, but said, “Don’t you think you should get some sleep? It will be morning soon.You’ve been up all night.”
“I’m not tired.”
A handsome boy, he had full lips and large dark eyes. In fact, he looked a great deal like his father. She had to wonder: Did that extend to his soul as well?
“What about his head?” Roe asked. “Father said he took some hard knocks on the fall down the mountain.”
“With everything else, I haven’t had the luxury of really examining it yet.”
“Let me do that.” Roe stood, and long red hair flowed around her as she walked around the fire and knelt beside Tsauz.
“Tsauz, tell me when this hurts.” She tenderly combed the boy’s dirty hair with her fingers, then began to probe his skull for injuries.
Tsauz sat perfectly still.
Roe’s brow furrowed. “He has one really large lump on the back of his head, and a few smaller ones.”
Evening Star finished washing a deep puncture wound on Tsauz’s throat—he must have struck a branch as he rolled down the mountain—and dropped her cloth into the bowl. At least his face and arms were clean. They’d also given him a clean shirt and moccasins to wear. The brown knee-length leather shirt looked tawdry compared to the fine black-and-white hide shirt he’d been wearing, but it was the best they could do.
“Let me feel,” Evening Star said. “Where are they?”
Roe touched each, and while Evening Star examined them, she watched Tsauz’s face. His eyes tightened a little when she touched the large lump at the rear of his head, but other than that, he seemed oblivious.
Roe waved a hand in front of Tsauz’s eyes. “How long has he been blind?”
“Since my mother died,” Tsauz answered, and pulled Runner against his stomach. Evening Star hoped he wouldn’t squeeze so hard it would tear the sutures where they’d sewed the puppy’s insides in.
Evening Star stroked his arm. “What happened? Did you injure your eyes?”
“No, I …” He paused as though trying to decide what he could safely say. “My mother died … and I stopped seeing.”
Evening Star sat back. “Were you there when it happened, Tsauz?”
He wet his lips. “Before Red Dog dragged me out of the lodge I saw her with her hair on fire.”
As though the boy’s words had painted perfect pictures, her soul could see it all happening: the fire, the screams, the desperation on his mother’s face.
“I’m sorry, Tsauz.”
Tsauz hugged his dead puppy.
Stonecrop stirred at their voices and began crying.
Roe said, “If you don’t need me any longer, I think I will take Stonecrop back to our lodge, feed him, and put him to sleep.”
“I’m sorry I kept you so long.”
Roe smiled absently, gingerly picked up Stonecrop, and got to her feet. “I will see you both later. A pleasant evening to you.”
“And to you.”
Roe started up the firelit trail, and Pitch called, “Wait, Roe. I’m coming.” He clutched his wounded arm to his chest and hurried to catch her.