“What’s he saying?” Tannin asked nervously. Terror lined the man’s face.
“I don’t know.”
Then the words reached them: “Go back! Don’t come any closer! We have sickness in this village!”
Lambkill grabbed Tannin’s sleeve and brought them both to a dead halt at the edge of the waves. Gulls squealed and dove over their heads. The short man walked to within forty hands of them and slowed, his hands held up to stop them. He had an elderly face and white braids.
Lambkill called, “Thank you for warning us! We are looking for a woman.”
“What woman?”
“Her name is Kestrel. She’s my wife. Young, very pretty. She’s traveling with a newborn baby.”
The man straightened. “Yes. We have heard of you. You’re the marsh-country Trader, aren’t you?”
Calmly, Lambkill responded, “I am. Have you seen my wife?”
“No.”
“Have you seen any men from the Blackwater Draw Clan? We are supposed to meet them somewhere near here.”
The man propped his hands on his hips. “You mean Harrier and his brothers?”
“Yes! That’s them. Are they here?”
“No. They came through many days ago, looking for the Otter Clan.”
Lambkill’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, and Tannin’s blood started to boom in his ears. “We are also looking for the Otter Clan,” Lambkill said. “Where is their new village? Do you know?”
The man hesitated, then he answered, “In the foothills. Two days’ walk to the east. Some of our hunters went through their village only days ago. Turn around and go back to the other side of the rise; you will see a trail that winds up through the hills. Their new village is on that trail. You won’t be able to miss it.”
“Thank you!” Lambkill called and started to back away.
“Wait! Wait, please,” the man yelled. He ran ten hands closer. “Please. Have you seen Sunchaser? Or heard of where he is? We need him desperately! We’ve sent word up and down the trails, but no one has seen him. Have you heard anything?”
“No.” Lambkill’s face twisted in disgust. “We’ve heard nothing.”
Lambkill trotted by Tannin, but Tannin still stood, unable to leave, holding the man’s tortured gaze. The elder wet his lips, and a difficult swallow went down his throat. He lifted a hand in a genial way.
“If you happen to meet Sunchaser,” the man called, “please tell him that we need him.”
Tannin nodded and backed up two paces. Sunchaser. Always Sunchaser. Everyone thinks they need him.
He turned and ran.
Thirty-four
Sunchaser folded the hides that had covered the sweat lodge frame and carefully packed them on Helper’s travois. The bent poles of the frame stood naked now, gleaming reddish in the morning sunlight. The aspen leaves rustled softly in the breezes that breathed out of the foothills. Father Sun had just barely chased away the fires of Dawn Child, and purple shadows pooled in every undulation on the beach. Lines of curling breakers rolled endlessly toward the north. Seabirds soared as they called to each other and filled the sky with dark, gliding shapes.
Kestrel laughed as she stepped out of the ocean waves and started back with a hide sack full of mussels.
Sunchaser had been surreptitiously studying her for over half a hand of time while she waded the shallows, collecting breakfast. The size and colors of the mussels seemed to amaze her… as they did everyone not native to the coast.
The mussels were almost two hands long and had beautiful violet shells, covered by brown skin. A series of flattened ridges textured the skin. On the inside, the mussels gleamed grayish-white and had two small teeth. They attached themselves to rocks along the tide lines with hairy bundles of fibrous fingers. Long before Sunchaser had awakened, Kestrel had bathed and then combed her wet hair behind her ears. The style accentuated the perfection of her face and the fullness of her lips. She looked so much like a child but for the scar on her forehead. Tiny and slender, her size and actions belied the strength within. A child? He remembered very well that
she had been a woman last night. He tingled just thinking about it.
She swung her sack happily as she walked, Helper trotting at her heels. The seashells on her dress sparkled magnificently. Cloud Girl sat in her rabbit-fur sack across the fire from Sunchaser, half asleep, sucking noisily on her new pack rat-hide pacifier.
Kestrel smiled at Sunchaser. She knelt before the fire and dumped the mussels into the boiling bag on the tripod. Her quick eyes surveyed the campsite and she noted, “It looks like you have everything packed.”