People of the Raven(97)
Bluegrass twisted on his mat as though ants had crawled into his cape. “For now, I agree.”
Black Mountain nodded. “As do I.”
Rain Bear bowed his head. “Good. There are other things I wish you to know.”
Bluegrass craned his neck to look up. “Now what?”
Rain Bear gazed across the smoldering fire at Bluegrass. “When my daughter was cleaning the boy’s wounds last night, she noticed … injuries.”
“From rolling down the mountain when you were chasing him?” Bluegrass asked.
Rain Bear shook his head. “No, these were old bruises, yellow and purple.” He let that sink in.
Bluegrass cocked his head. “You mean Ecan beats the boy?”
“That was Roe’s suggestion. Either Ecan or someone else.”
“I’ve heard this before,” Black Mountain said, “from Traders.”
“As have I,” Goldenrod added. “Just after Ecan’s wife died in that suspicious fire, I heard that he beat the boy nearly to death.”
Bluegrass jerked a nod. “And that he kicked the boy’s puppy to death. But what difference does it make?”
Rain Bear shrugged. “It’s just something to think about. Ecan beats the boy, and when the battle at War Gods Village grew difficult, he abandoned his blind son and fled.”
“More reasons to hate Ecan.” Black Mountain drew up a knee and laced his fingers around it. “But I’m not certain it has a bearing on our decisions.”
“It tells us something about the value he places on his son’s life,” Bluegrass said. “The boy may not be as useful a tool as we think.”
“True,” Rain Bear agreed in a mild voice. “It also means that killing the boy may not hurt Ecan as much as we imagine.”
“For the sake of the gods, Rain Bear,” Bluegrass exhaled the words in a rush and waved a hand. “You never wish to kill anyone. No matter how deserving! In Raven’s name, why did we vote you to lead the war party?”
Rain Bear’s brows lifted. “As I recall, Bluegrass, you voted against me.”
“Yes, but I was outvoted. So there we have it. At least we are all agreed that we must kill Ecan, correct?”
Everyone, including Rain Bear, nodded.
“And Cimmis, if we can, yes?”
“Of course. If we can find an opportunity.”
“Anything else, Rain Bear?” Goldenrod asked expectantly.
“Not for the moment.” He glanced around. “But I would like for each of you to follow out anything suspicious. We have the boy, and Cimmis knows it. If he can kill the boy before we can use him …”
Bluegrass’s nose wiggled as he thought about it. “He could take any advantage away from us. That foul sea slug! If he’s going to kill our captive, he’s going to have to get past me first!”
Goldenrod and Black Mountain were watching him curiously.
“Very well.” Bluegrass tottered as he rose to his feet. “Notify me when you wish to next meet in council.”
“We will.”
Bluegrass walked to the door and stepped out into the bright afternoon sunlight. People instantly began calling questions.
Goldenrod chuckled, rose to his feet, and asked, “Are we finished, Great Chief?”
“Unless you have something else to discuss,” Rain Bear said.
Goldenrod shook his head, and Black Mountain said, “I have nothing more.” He got up and propped his hands on his hips. “We’ll be waiting to hear from you, Rain Bear.”
“I will be calling on you soon.”
Cimmis lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the afternoon glare of the sun, and frowned at the large group of warriors who walked in through the Salmon Village gate. Several villagers ran out of the palisade gates and followed in the wake of the war party, shouting questions, hugging friends who’d been away. Ecan led the procession. Cimmis knew the Starwatcher by his long white cape. Oddly, he didn’t see Ecan’s boy. A woman—apparently a captive—accompanied the party.
“Ecan!” Cimmis clenched a fist. “Gutginsa strike him! Look at that! He’s brought a woman! I didn’t want him slowed down by captives. His need to shove his rod into her sheath might have killed them all.”
“Wait, my Chief. Let’s hear his story.” Wind Woman tousled Tudab’s thick black hair, blowing it over his face.
Cimmis said, “The Starwatcher has a bad habit of ‘interpreting’ my orders to his own benefit.”
“Sometimes a man must make quick decisions out on the war trail.”
“I spent ten and eight summers as a warrior and never had to ‘explain’ my actions, Clan Leader. I never disobeyed an order, never ‘interpreted’ an order. I just did what was expected of me.”