People of the Silence(38)
A thin coating of dust sprinkled his broad cheekbones and dark eyebrows. She could see his pulse throbbing in his temple.
“Listen,” he whispered. “Mother and Father are arguing.”
Through the rear window, she saw them, standing face to face. Her mother had a black-and-gray blanket snugged over her shoulders. Her father wore a pale blue shirt. He’d crossed his arms, as if hugging himself.
Her mother said, “Beargrass, we’ve been quarreling for two days. Enough! If you will not come, I will take Cornsilk and Fledgling and go away!”
“Thistle, please. I am Lanceleaf Village’s War Chief. I have responsibilities. The Tower Builders are raiding. How can I leave now?”
Cornsilk stared breathlessly at the house. The red clay plaster shone orange in the bright sun. Down the hill, children played in the village plaza, wrestling, throwing sticks for barking dogs. A broad square of two-story buildings bordered the plaza. Women sat in the sunlight on the west side, grinding corn, laughing. The lilting voices of men rose from the kiva dug into the middle of the plaza.
“Thistle,” her father pleaded, “don’t do this to me. I beg you. I love you and—”
“If you did, you would protect us!”
Cornsilk breathed. “Fledgling, why does Mother wish to take us away?”
He shook his head. “I’m not certain yet. Shh.”
“Thistle,” her father said. “Please. I know you are frightened, but I do not believe we are in danger. Even if Night Sun discovered—”
“I am not afraid of Night Sun! She was never as wicked as Sternlight said! I thought she was a good woman. Kind to everyone—”
“All right!” Beargrass clenched his teeth. More quietly, he continued, “I don’t believe it, but let’s assume that Crow Beard is not the father, and that Ironwood is. How could his enemies find out where his child is? Ironwood would have told no one, except, perhaps, Sternlight. And I cannot believe that Stern-light would betray Ironwood.”
“Why not?” Thistle asked, on the verge of tears. Her mouth trembled.
“They have been friends all their lives. Besides—”
“Would that matter if—”
“Besides,” her father interrupted in a commanding voice, “we have been safe for over fifteen summers, Thistle. Why, after all this time, would someone suddenly decide to betray Ironwood? What would he have to gain?”
In a choking voice, her mother answered, “I don’t know, but I’m terrified. We must do something! Please, help me think of a way of keeping our son and daughter safe.”
Panic threaded Cornsilk’s heart. Mother wants to take us away because she thinks we are in danger … Ironwood is the father of whom?
Cornsilk whispered, “Fledgling? What child? Who is Ironwood’s child?”
Fledgling closed his eyes. “I think they mean one of us.”
It took some time for his meaning to sink in. “One of us?… Us?”
“Perhaps,” her father said softly, “we should separate Cornsilk and Fledgling.”
Her mother stood very still, then slowly nodded. “If you think that’s best.”
“Cornsilk could go to live with my brother Deer Bird in Two Horn Village. It isn’t far. A half day’s walk. And I suspect she might enjoy it. She has always loved Deer Bird.”
Cornsilk forced a swallow down her tight throat. Her heart pounded.
Fledgling saw her wince and reached out to put an arm over her shoulders, holding her. “Wait. We don’t know anything yet.”
“Oh, Beargrass,” her mother wept. “I’ll miss Cornsilk.”
Beargrass drew her mother close and tenderly kissed her hair. “It should only be for a short time. If Crow Beard lives, I believe we are still safe. If he dies—”
Her mother looked up. “If he dies, we can leave Cornsilk there for a moon or so … just to see.”
“Yes. Anyone who wished to harm Crow Beard’s child would do it immediately, if at all. And Ironwood’s child—”
“Yes, I understand.” Eagerly, her mother added, “And after a moon, we can go and fetch her, and bring her home.”
“Yes.”
“Fledgling,” she said softly. “They mean me. It’s me they’re—!”
“What of Fledgling?” her mother asked. “Where should we send our son?”
Cornsilk watched the muscles in her brother’s jaw tense.
Beargrass said, “I believe it is our duty to stay with Fledgling at all times. We—”
“No, he’s old enough now,” her mother said. “As soon as he kills his first enemy warrior, he will be a man. What if we send him to stay with your father? That way we could remain here, arousing no suspicion, and our son and daughter will be safe. You may continue your duties as War Chief. We’ll just tell people that Cornsilk and Fledgling are away visiting relatives. Oh, Beargrass, that’s the solution!”