“Do you not seek that balance yourself, War Chief?”
“I am dedicated to the red Power, Seeker. I leave the white for others to cultivate.”
“I see.” He reached into his pouch. “What do you think of this?”
He handed across a shining copper gorget. The image had been beautifully rendered, showing a crouched warrior over a kneeling captive. The warrior’s head was up, as if looking to the sky. Forked-eye designs surrounded his large eyes, a beaded forelock hanging over his forehead. In his right hand he held a long knife pressed against the captive’s exposed throat. The string it hung on had been beaded with perfectly cut shell disks.
Great Cougar held it up to the light, a gleam in his eyes. “I have never seen the like. It’s magnificent.”
“It came from Cahokia. I have no idea of its age, or who might have worn it. Perhaps one of the very lords who once ruled there.”
“You would Trade this?”
“For the right Trade.”
Great Cougar reverently fingered the piece. “I have an engraved cup for black drink, a large thing made from a huge conch. The workmanship is wondrous. It was Traded to me by a Pensacola, who in turn Traded it up from the Calusa. It is my most prized possession. A moment.” He turned, trotting off behind the Men’s House.
Old White smiled to himself. Yes, well chosen indeed.
Of all his Trade, he had thought of this piece, one of the items given to him by Silver Loon. Of their combined possessions, it seemed the most likely—excepting of course Trader’s copper and the medicine box—to pique the surly Great Cougar’s interest.
At that moment, Great Cougar dashed back from his quest, a large white conch shell cradled in his hands. The shell cup was among the largest Old White had ever seen. Nearly as long as his forearm, it had been carefully cut in half lengthwise, leaving the outer wall of the shell, the columella removed. It tapered to a long thin point on one end. The design etched into its outer surface was of geometric lightning patterns surrounding the narrow image of a seated cat.
Old White took the shell, uttering an admiring “Ah!” In the far north, this cup would fetch half a canoe load of copper, several packs of prime lynx hides, or even one of the very rare white bearskins.
He glanced at Great Cougar, who again held the Cahokian gorget up to the evening light. The man seemed to be entranced.
“Hang it around your neck,” Old White suggested. “I may be wrong, but you can almost feel the Power pulsing within it.”
Great Cougar reverently looped the gorget string over his head.
“I have heard,” Old White added, “that something of a person’s Spirit remains with a cherished possession. When I hold that piece, it is as if I can touch the essence of a Cahokian lord. Imagine the emotions, the pride that once beat in the wearer’s heart.” He paused. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”
Great Cougar stared down at his chest, fingering the rim of the copper gorget. Finally, almost breathlessly, he asked, “Do we have a Trade? The gorget for the cup?”
Old White considered, running his fingers over the intricate design. He had, he decided, never seen such a marvelous piece. It tempted him, affecting him the same way the gorget did Great Cougar.
“Let me propose something else, a way for you to keep the gorget . . . and the cup.”
Great Cougar gave him a suspicious look. “And that would be?”
“I would Trade the gorget for the Albaamaha captives.”
“Before or after I hang them on the square?”
Old White arched an eyebrow in censure.
“Why?” Great Cougar asked as he removed the gorget. He hesitated, unwilling to hand it back.
“Because for reasons I cannot understand, the Contrary wants them.”
Great Cougar’s expression was guarded. “You would give up that cup because the Contrary wants the Albaamaha?”
Old White made a face. “It pains me to do so, but yes.”
“In Breath Giver’s name, why?”
Old White chuckled, amused at himself. He did covet the cup. “From the time that I found the Contrary among the Oneota, she has never ceased to amaze me. She sees the future. When she speaks, it is with that knowledge, which is why everything she says is backward. She is watching us from the future. Even with my experience, I can hardly imagine how she thinks.”
“What could she possibly want with an old Albaamo and a skinny woman?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. That she desires them is enough. Of course, you can refuse the bargain. In that case, I have done my best.”
Great Cougar gave him a crafty look. “You could offer more.”
Old White waved it off. “Well done. You are worthy of being a Trader yourself. But no. Were I to offer you everything I owned, you would wonder why. That question would eat at you, feed the suspicions you already have about us. I can hear the thoughts that would churn between your souls: ‘If they would Trade so much, the captives must be worth a great deal to them. But why?’ And the answer you could not help but arrive at would be that despite the evidence we carry in our packs, we did not travel down from the north. Instead, you would convince yourself that we were indeed Sky Hand spies, come to discover your war plans.”