People of the Sea(190)
A fight ensued around the fire. Horseweed let fly with his dart, and Kestrel saw it lance clear through Catchstraw’s right arm as he fell atop Sunchaser in a writhing, kicking fit.
Oxbalm cried, “No, Grandson! No! Stop! Get back, everyone!” Shrieks and hoarse shouts pierced the air as people broke away and ran in confusion. Horseweed leaped on Catchstraw and tore him from Sunchaser, forcing him to break his grip. They rolled, slamming fists, gasping and groaning…
Kestrel started to scream, but a callused hand clamped over her mouth. Powerful arms jerked her roughly to her
feet and shoved her through the crowd and around to the rear of the closest lodge. Kestrel jerked her atlatl from her belt, but he batted it away effortlessly. Horror gripped her like the fists of ddbm. She groaned and twisted like Snake. The scent of smoked lodge hides wafted in the moonlight-silvered darkness.
They stumbled through belongings that had been piled behind the lodge: grinding slabs, axes, things too big to be carried away by animals. But the noise around the central fire had grown so deafening that it covered the sounds of their movements.
Lambkill whispered, “Didn’t I tell you I would kill you, my wife, if I ever found you with another man?” He slammed a fist into her stomach so hard that her feet went out from under her. Kestrel shouted, “Help!” But Lambkill covered her mouth again, hauled her upright and dragged her down the slope.
“Lambkill? Lambkill!” Tannin called from someplace behind them.
Through blurry eyes, Kestrel saw Tannin sprinting down the hill, his jaw clenched, his eyes wide. Lambkill shifted, hooking his left arm around Kestrel’s throat so he could use his right hand to draw his knife. The blade glinted with a pewter gleam.
“Stay back, Tannin!” Lambkill ordered, pulling Kestrel with him as he backed up. “Get away. I don’t need any more of your advice!”
Tannin halted a body’s length away, breathing hard, and unslung his quiver of darts and his atlatl and laid them on the ground. “I mean you no harm, my brother.” He stood and spread his hands. The tiny shell beads that lined the seams in his shoulders sparkled; they had been sewn with such care by Calling Crane’s hands. “Listen to me, Lambkill. Just… just let her go. There’s no point in hurting her. What good will it do now? Let’s go home. I miss my wife, Lambkill. And I want to take you home. You need rest. It’s over. Let’s get
out of here!” Tannin took a step, and his foot snapped a twig in the grass.
Lambkill jerked Kestrel backward so hard that she choked. She tried to scream, but her voice came out in a rasping whisper: “Tannin! .. . P-please!”
Lambkill laughed and brandished his knife, but he kept glancing at the commotion on the hilltop. Kestrel’s fear for herself paled when she heard Catchstraw screaming: “Sunchaser is the witch! Look at the bite and claw marks on my body! He’s the one who’s learned to become Dire Wolf. He devised that accursed maze in the first place. Gather stones! We must stone him to death now, before he has a chance to regain his strength!”
From the corner of her vision, she saw people running around the fire, their shadows huge, amorphous, on the trees in the background. Were Catchstraw’s followers gathering stones? She strained to hear more, but Lambkill’s voice blotted out everything else.
“My brother” Lambkill snarled. “You’ve been a coward this entire journey, always whining, complaining, wanting to go home. Now that we’re at the end, you can’t stand to go through with it. Well, I don’t need you! I never have! Go on. I can kill my wife by myself. Get away from here. Go!”
Tannin licked his lips and took another step closer, raising his hands, showing that they were empty, harmless. Sweat created a sheen on his neck in the moonlight. He never looked Kestrel in the eyes, but wisely kept his gaze locked with Lambkill’s. “You know this is wrong, Lambkill. We’ve already killed her lover and caused the death of her little girl by pushing her so hard—”
“You can’t believe that! Do you think that baby found in the forest tonight was left by the Thunderbeings?”
“.. . Let her go. She’ll never come back to Juniper Village. That’s punishment enough. She’ll never see her mother or grandmother again. Never see any of the friends she’s had since childhood. Even if the Otter Clan adopts her, she’ll still be alone among strangers. What else—”
“Are you blind as well as a coward?” Lambkill answered. With the slow expertise of a killer, he waved his knife before Kestrel’s eyes and gradually lowered it to her belly, where he pressed the tip hard against her. She moaned in fear. “You saw the filthy way she touched Sunchaser. If we let her go, she’ll still have him.”