People of the Thunder(19)

Old White caught Trader’s suddenly sharpened expression. Old White waved it down. “All in time, Trader. Assuming we live that long.”

“Living is just dying. Only backward.” Two Petals frowned at something in the air above the plaza. “How can light just hang in the sky like that? Meanwhile, these people are happy to swarm around. Hungry as bees. Waves upon the shore, forever lapping and lapping. Can’t go meet my sister with all these goods piled in a warehouse. No, they’ve got to be turned upside down first. Can’t send a wooden bowl south if it’s in the north. She’d never know us for who we are. Seeds in the soil. Messengers can’t die until they’re sent.”

“What?” Trader asked.

“Forget it,” Old White told him, glad to have the subject changed. He raised his staff, and the waiting Yuchi grew quiet. He could feel the rising expectation in the crowd. At that moment, Born-of-Sun, followed by War Chief Wolf Tail, came striding across the plaza. The Yuchi high chief was dressed resplendently, fans of turkey feathers at each shoulder, the point of his apron hanging down between his knees. A bearhide cape was perfectly draped over his shoulders, and sunlight glinted off the copper headpiece pinned to his hair.

Born-of-Sun wore an expression of solemn dignity until he stepped close, winked at Trader, and shot Old White an amused smile. In a low voice he asked, “Are you ready for this? If we avoid a riot it will be a miracle.”

“Riot, riot,” Two Petals sang. “All is chaos.”

“Ready,” Trader replied. “Seeker? Do you wish to do the honors?”

Old White cried out to the crowd, “Greetings! I am Old White, known as the Seeker. With me is Trader, and the Contrary, Two Petals. As you know, we came to Rainbow City under the Power of Trade!” He took a breath as a cheer went up. “At the height of the winter solstice, you watched a great game of chunkey played between Born-of-Sun, high chief of the Tsoyaha, and Trader. The stakes were Trader’s life and freedom against his promise to seek peace and well-being between the Yuchi and Chikosi. The game was close, tied at twenty apiece, when Trader’s final cast shattered his lance upon the stone!”

People called out, stamping their feet, shouting in applause.

Old White lifted his Trader’s staff, the feathers waffling in the breeze. When the crowd began to quiet, he continued, “You Tsoyaha wagered everything on your chief, knowing Born-of-Sun was the finest chunkey player among you. Power, however, favored Trader in this contest among equals.”

A few hoots and jeers broke out.

Old White grinned. “Trader, the Contrary, and I are humble Traders, and it is not right that we three should hoard our winnings. Power seeks balance. We serve the Power of Trade. So we would Trade.”

“Trade what?” someone called.

“The goodwill of the Tsoyaha in return for this mountain of winnings!” Old White pointed to the two storehouses full of blankets, jewelry, pots of corn, beans, and dried squash. Wooden dishes, colorful fabrics, shell-inlaid wooden boxes, bows, lances, several canoes, rolls of matting, and the wealth of a nation lay piled within.

A roar went up from the crowd.

“What do you think, Kala Hi’ki?” Born-of-Sun asked.

“I think our children’s children will talk of this day, High Chief.”

Old White turned for the first of the presents, handing it to Two Petals. The piece was a finely crafted Illinois bowl. The artisan had carved it from a single piece of black walnut, thinning the wooden bowl and rubbing it with oils to accent the grain. The handles were in the form of a raccoon’s head on one end with the animal’s ringed tail protruding on the other. It rested on four lifelike feet; but for being wood, the toes and claws might have come from the real thing. He had obtained the bowl in Trade, given it away during the solstice celebrations, and now Trader had won it back. For a moment Old White stared at the intricate carving of the muzzle and admired the masklike face that had been so finely rendered. Wonderful workmanship. Then he turned to Two Petals. “Here. You do the honors. You’re Contrary: Say something . . . cryptic.”

“As if she could say anything else?” Trader asked from the corner of his mouth.

“You Dance with your feet on your head, Seeker,” Two Petals announced as she took the bowl from his hands. “Try and be rid of this bowl, Trader. It will finally rest with the one you love.”

Old White watched Trader roll his eyes and shake his head.





Four


“I am not tired. Not at all. What need do I have of sleep?” Two Petals asked herself with a sigh as she stared up into the night sky. The young woman had hollow eyes, her face lined with fatigue. Her head kept nodding, and she’d jerk before blinking stupidly.