People of the Sea(162)
Tannin sipped his tea casually, but he gripped his cup in both hands as though his tension had built to unbearable levels. He kept glancing fearfully at Lambkill.
Harrier tipped his log stool forward and braced his elbows on his knees, then extended his hands to warm them over the flames. “Oxbalm, Lambkill and Tannin ask your permission to stay here—”
“Only for as long as you and your brothers are here,
Harrier. And you have three days left. More time than that, I cannot grant. Already you’ve upset my village. Every man here has started sleeping with his atlatl, worried that this event might cause a war between our clans. The women are keeping their children close to the village. It’s unhealthy having you and your—”
“But, Oxbalm, listen. Lambkill knows that Kestrel is coming here. Maybe not in the next few days, but soon, and we’ll catch her when she does. If you will just—”
“I have said no. Must I repeat it?”
Harrier straightened and his eyes narrowed. “Where is Catchstraw?” he asked softly. “If you will not give your permission, we would like to ask his.”
Dizzy Seal made a low sound of disgust and threw the dregs of his tea into the fire. As the flames sizzled, one of the burning logs broke and a flash of lurid light chased back the darkness for a few moments.
Sumac surreptitiously patted Oxbalm’s elbow. The gesture made him suppress the bitter words that had rushed to his lips. That and the fact that he saw Horseweed silently pull a dart from his quiver, then nock the dart in his atlatl with unobtrusive skill. Oxbalm waved dismissively at Harrier. “Catchstraw is in the sweat lodge down the hill … Dreaming.” The word stuck in his throat like a clot of tar. “He said he didn’t want to be disturbed. But perhaps he just meant disturbed by his fellow villagers, rather than by you and your friends. Would you like to chance angering him?”
Harrier and Lambkill exchanged looks. “No,” Harrier replied. “We will see him tomorrow morning.”
“If he’s finished Dreaming by then,” Lambkill said. “Some Dreamers stay in the Spirit World for days at a time.”
“Not Catchstraw,” Oxbalm commented blandly. “He’ll be available tomorrow.”
Harrier stood up, and Lambkill and Tannin gathered their belongings and rose beside him. When Harrier didn’t offer any conciliatory words,
Lambkill said respectfully, “You’ve been honest and forthright with us, Oxbalm. We thank you. We will cause you no trouble, I assure you.”
“I hope you are right, Trader. As I have told Harrier—”
Horseweed gasped suddenly and bolted to his feet. All the color drained from his face as he peered down at the meadow. Oxbalm spun around … and his heart rose into his throat. A dire wolf, black and huge, loped through the wildflowers, heading for a copse of pine on the southern end of the meadow.
Harrier gasped. “Where did it come from? They’re so rare now. Maybe we should mount a hunting party to kill it.”
“No,” Lambkill murmured, and his faded eyes glimmered with something like recognition. That look sent a tingle up Oxbalm’s spine. “No,” Lambkill repeated. “Leave it be. So long as it doesn’t bother us, why should we bother it?”
Lambkill walked away across the hilltop, and Harrier and Tannin followed. But Lambkill kept glancing back and forth between Catchstraw’s sweat lodge and the place where the wolf had disappeared into the trees. As though he knew.
Oxbalm fought to still his labored breathing. How could a Trader from the marsh country know a secret that even I am not certain of?
His gaze drifted over the dark branches of the oaks that filigreed the indigo vault of the sky. The wide eyes of owls flashed as they turned their heads to watch the retreating men.
“Tomorrow, Grandson,” he said, to Horseweed, “I want you to organize a scouting party. Pick four men, two to run the western trail and two for the eastern trail. Maybe we can warn this Kestrel and her friend before they walk into Harrier’s trap. If she is a relative, she deserves at least that much from us.”
“Yes, Grandfather, I will,” Horseweed whispered and looked up through haunted eyes. “But the wolf. Do you think—”
“It could have just been a wolf. That’s all,” Dizzy Seal responded. But he didn’t sound as though he believed it himself.
Oxbalm grimaced. “There’s one way to find out. Sumac, please, for my sake, stay here with Balsam. Balsam, take care of Grandmother while Dizzy Seal, Horseweed and I go down the hill.”
Terror welled in Horseweed’s eyes. He swallowed hard. “Where are we going, Grandfather?”