People of the Sea(188)
“You’re a filthy woman! Filthy!” To the villagers, he shouted, “She’s done terrible things! Other things! You can’t imagine. My people condemned her to death for her monstrous crimes! She murdered my son! My little boy. He was so tiny … just born.” Lambkill slipped the pack from his back and held it out to the crowd. “This baby—”
From across the fire, Tannin shouted, “Lambkill!”
Lambkill halted for a moment, as though considering the warning, and Kestrel drew a breath to speak to him, but a sound distracted her—a weird, lingering scream that rent the night. It sent shivers down her spine, chilling the blood in her veins. It was the cry of a wounded animal—or of a man nearby, coming up the eastern trail.
“What’s happening?” Sumac asked as she rose to her knees and squinted past the glare of the fire. “Who is that?”
“Blessed Spirits,” Horseweed rasped. “It’s… it’s Catch straw, Grandmother.” He clutched his atlatl more securely. “He’s staggering. It looks like he’s been hurt, too.”
Forty-two
Kestrel’s soul froze. Catchstraw. The witch! Her eyes narrowed as she craned her neck to see him.
Helper uttered a moaning growl, his head down and the fur standing straight on his back. He loped forward and the crowd dispersed abruptly; people ran like a school of fish when a pelican splashes into the water over their heads. With snarling barks, Helper charged toward the tall, thin man with gray-streaked black hair who staggered across the hilltop.
“Oxbalm!” Catchstraw yelled Hoarsely. “Oxbalm, this is your fault!” He wove on his feet as though possessed by a Powerful Spirit Plant. As Helper closed, Catchstraw jabbed the dart point toward him. Helper veered off, circling and barking.
Oxbalm straightened and squinted at Catchstraw, who glared back. Catchstraw wore only a breech clout and carried the dart in his hand like a firebrand. The translucent
chalcedony point glimmered in the flickering light. Horrifying wounds covered his skinny body, and blood trickled down his pale skin in bright, crooked patterns. He held his free hand pressed against a wound in his shoulder, hindering the rush of blood, but the long gash down his left side flowed unheeded. Kestrel noticed the gore that crusted over the wound on his right thigh, just beneath the flap of his buckskin breech clout That was what made him limp so.
“Get out of my way!” Catchstraw shouted and slashed at people with his long dart. He appeared demented with hatred. “I despise all of you! Do you hear me? Every single one of you!” Children shrieked and fell to the ground, crawling out of his reach.
The mob faded back, creating a path for him. He dragged himself forward, sliding his bad leg. His hooked nose flared repulsively, as if tormented by a gruesome stench. “Sunchaser?” he screamed. “Where’s Sunchaser? What have you done with him, Oxbalm?”
Yucca Thorn spun. “Over here! He’s lying by the fire, Catchstraw!”
Catchstraw came forward like an avenging Spirit Helper, his eyes glowing as he limped into the glare of the fire. “Oxbalm!” he railed shrilly. “Look at me. Look! Sunchaser attacked me while I was out gathering plants by the light of the moon. He caught me off guard, darted me in the shoulder and tried to slit my throat with his knife! He’s no Dreamer! He’s a murderer!”
Kestrel’s hand slipped down to her atlatl. She wouldn’t do anything so bold as rising to pull her dart from Horseweed’s pack, but she could use the atlatl as a club if she had to. This man looked as if insane enough to attack Oxbalm, Sunchaser or anyone else who got in his way.
Catchstraw’s malignant gaze fell upon Kestrel with such Power that she flinched.
Catchstraw shrieked, “Sunchaser’s evil. He’s been consorting with wicked women! Satiating his lust in their flesh!” He gestured at Kestrel, then looked at Oxbalm. “And you have
been defending Sunchaser! Calling him ‘great’ and ‘good.” You old fool! He’s betrayed us all!”
“You’re a liar!” Kestrel shouted.
Behind her, she heard Lambkill laugh coldly. The sound struck her like a slap in the face.
Horseweed glanced at Lambkill, then at Kestrel in panic. “Shh. Don’t say anything,” he whispered urgently. “You don’t need to make enemies so soon.” He lifted his atlatl and spread his feet, ready to drive the long point into any enemy. He wet his lips anxiously as he glowered at Catchstraw. “You’re the one who’s betrayed us! You witch! I call you a witch, Catchstraw! I accuse you of witching Sunchaser and attacking him in the form of Dire Wolf!”