Rain Bear was half surprised when he found Tsauz still sleeping, but as he flipped off his covers, the boy awakened.
Dragging the dead dog, the boy followed him out into the trees to attend—under the eyes of the guards—to nature. Then Rain Bear led him back to the fire that vigilant guards had kindled in front of his lodge.
“Right there, Tsauz—that’s the sitting mat.”
Rain Bear helped the blind boy to sit down, and Tsauz rested his dead puppy in his lap. The little dog’s belly had begun to bloat, and foul smells were leaking past the stitches Roe had used to sew up the dog’s sides. Soon, they’d have to take it away, before the evil Spirits began to leak out.
Rain Bear just prayed he wouldn’t be the one who had to do it.
He gave the boy a thorough inspection. Despite a solid night of sleep, Tsauz looked haggard. The scratches covering his face had swollen and turned red. Smudges darkened the flesh beneath his blind eyes.
“Roe started lunch a hand of time ago,” Rain Bear said, “but I still have to make tea.”
Tsauz brushed shoulder-length black hair behind his ears and clamped his lower lip between his teeth as though awaiting something terrible.
“It shouldn’t take long.”
Rain Bear went around the fire to where the tea basket hung on the tripod. Roe had already filled it with water and tea. He just needed to boil the water. As he reached for the whalebone tongs resting at the base of the tripod, he looked around the village. Crowds had begun to gather in the plaza and in every opening in the forest. There had to be more than two times ten tens of people camped around Sandy Point Village.
Rain Bear used the whalebone tongs to pluck three hot rocks from the fire. As he dropped each into the tea basket, steam gushed upward in a white cloud, and with it the sweet scents of birch sap and fireweed leaves.
A basket of pemmican—buffalo intestines stuffed with a mixture of blueberries, venison, and fat—rested in the ashes. They’d made it last summer when the blueberries ripened. He’d hoped they wouldn’t have to use it until spring, but spring was still another three moons away. They needed it now.
“How are you this afternoon, Tsauz? Did you sleep well?”
Tsauz glanced up from beneath long lashes but didn’t answer.
“I’m sure you must be hungry. Did you eat anything before we found you?”
Tsauz shook his head.
“Then you must be starving. Evening Star took half of our pemmican to exchange for Roe’s seaweed cakes. She’ll be back soon; then we’ll eat.”
He poked the sizzling lengths of pemmican with a stick while he absently listened to the conversations that filled the valley. Because people had been up half the night, they’d slept half the day. Many were just rising.
One of the newly arrived chiefs—Bluegrass—was walking straight for him. The old man was accompanied by a small band of his warriors. As they approached, they fixed their eyes on Tsauz.
“Great Chief,” Bluegrass greeted, his thin-lidded eyes still on the boy. “I wish to thank you for your work in making the Moon Ceremonial as pleasant as it was … considering the circumstances.”
“Thank you for coming, Chief. We face desperate times and appreciate your support.”
Bluegrass remained fixed on Tsauz. “So, are the rumors true? Is that Ecan’s son?”
“He is. His name is Tsauz.” Rain Bear noticed that Tsauz had recognized Bluegrass’s tone. “He’s under my protection for the moment.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Treat him like the guest he is.”
Bluegrass lowered his voice. “If you wish to see future cooperation from me or my people, you will kill the little weasel. The sooner, the better. Me, I want a piece of him. Maybe just his hand. Something I can send to his father. Compliments of the visit he paid to my village. A reminder of the way he treated my daughter when she was his guest.” His face worked, pain and grief mixing. “Ecan deserves it after what he did to our villages.”
“Ecan deserves it, yes. What has the boy done to you?”
“Don’t stand in my way, Great Chief. I’m not alone in my desires. And if you wish to build this alliance we’ve been hearing about, you’ll need friends.”
The old man stalked off wearing a thunderous expression. He’d be back. Meanwhile, he’d be going from camp to camp, speaking with the other chiefs, rallying his support.
The color had washed out of Tsauz’s face. His sightless brown eyes were holes of fear. He seemed to be having trouble swallowing, the way he would if his mouth were too dry.
Perhaps more ominous, Rain Bear could see unknown warriors standing just beyond the ring of guards he’d posted. They were three deep now. They’d made no hostile moves, but they stood with their spears or clubs propped on their shoulders, as though awaiting instructions from their chiefs.