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People of the Sea(161)

By:W. Michael Gear


She sat with her back painfully straight, her chin thrust out as though preparing to do battle with Above-Old-Man himself. “Look at the smile on Harrier’s face. He’s as anxious as Mouse cornered by Marten. Notice how his hand grips the atlatl tied to his belt? It’s them, all right. Harrier’s probably wondering what to do with them, since the Trader’s wife hasn’t shown up here yet.”

Oxbalm’s eyes narrowed as the three men walked briskly toward him. The villagers who sat around the other fires burst out in conversation. A few reached for their atlatls and drew them warily into their laps. It eased Oxbalm’s soul to know that a half dozen darts would be aimed at the Trader if he got too crazy. Night had begun to fall quickly now, draping the forest in a veil of luminescent charcoal.

“Sumac,” Oxbalm said quietly, “I would feel better if you were safe in our lodge. Why don’t you—”

“I’m staying.” “Why do you always-insist on arguing with me when I’m trying to protect you!”

“Because usually,” she replied matter-of-factly, “that’s when you need me most.”



“I do not need you! I have three men here—”

“That,” Sumac said and gazed at him with equanimity, “is exactly why you need me. This whole matter is over a woman. There should be somebody here who understands what she must have gone through. Or do you, as a man, know everything that moves a woman?”

Dizzy Seal bowed his head to hide his smile, and Horse weed chuckled softly. Oxbalm glowered at both of them, then turned to face Harrier as the youth strode up with his hand extended.

“Good evening, Oxbalm,” Harrier said, taking the old man’s hand in a reluctant grip. “You remember my telling you about the men who were looking for—”

“Yes,” Oxbalm said and faced the short man with the gray braids. “You must be the Trader, Lambkill.”

The man bowed deeply and nodded. “I am. And this is my brother, Tannin. We’re from the Bear-Looks-Back Clan out in the marsh country.”

Oxbalm inclined his head respectfully, but said nothing.

Lambkill continued. “It would seem that we owe you a debt of gratitude. Harrier has told us that you’ve helped him, allowing him and his brothers to stay and watch the trails for my wife, Kestrel.”

‘ Oxbalm gestured to the fire. “Please, sit down and help yourselves to the tea.”

Oxbalm lowered his old body to sit beside Sumac again, while the men found places and removed their packs from their backs.

Sumac’s eyes tightened when she saw how reverently Lambkill placed his pack in his lap and arranged it just so before unlacing two ties and removing a wooden cup.

Tannin crouched warily beside Lambkill, his arms braced on his knees as he took out his cup. Powerful leg muscles bulged beneath his pants. Harrier filled Lambkill’s and Tannin’s cups with tea, then pulled a piece of oak from the woodpile, tipped it on end and used it as a stool.

Silence stretched until Oxbalm said bluntly, “I’m sorry



to say, Trader Lambkill, that your wife has not visited our village yet.”

“She will,” Lambkill replied. “She is on her way. It’s just a matter of time.”

Oxbalm tilted his head doubtfully. “Well, perhaps, but—”

“No perhaps about it,” Lambkill interrupted. He met Oxbalm’s gaze balefully. “We were at Whalebeard Village two days ago. They told us they’d seen her.”

Sumac slipped her arm through Oxbalm’s and shifted to rest on her hip, peering across at Lambkill. In a chill voice, she said, “That is no proof that she intended to come here.”

“No,” Lambkill agreed, “but the man she was with asked for directions to your new village site. That strongly suggests that they intended to come here.”

Sumac saw Tannin’s sharp glance at his brother and tightened her hold on Oxbalm’s.arm. Apparently she sensed, as Oxbalm did, an undercurrent in that statement. Something left unsaid—purposely. “Is it true,” Sumac asked, “that your wife has a newborn baby with her?”

Lambkill nodded. “She gave birth after she ran away from Juniper Village. She had twins. We found the place—”

“A woman, pregnant with twins, ran, and escaped?” Sumac asked, awed. “She must have been very desperate.”

“With good reason.” Lambkill’s wrinkled face pulled into new lines as he frowned down at the pack in his lap. He stroked the hide gently. In the darkening sky behind him, bats soared and dove, hunting the insects that floated over the meadow. “She had been condemned to death for committing incest with her cousin.”