People of the Weeping Eye(153)
“I will be worthy,” Trader said with a confidence he did not feel. “Even if it had not snowed, even if you had no hopes of capturing me, I have come in peace, asking only to purchase labor to cross your lands. I serve the Power of Trade. No matter what was done to you, it wasn’t anything you have not done to my people in turn. That is the way we have been given, so I do not seek any explanations. But when you finally cut my corpse from the square and give pieces of my body away, you will live with the knowledge that you, not I, have broken the Power. From that moment on, you will know that if there was treachery, it was at your hand, and not mine. Word will travel. Traders will know. A witch—if that’s what you decide to portray me as—would not willingly walk to the square and die with the dignity and courage that I will.”
Kala Hi’ki listened intently, saying nothing. For a long time, he stood as if carved from wood. Finally he said, “You are no witch.” He sighed. “You are free to go. Along with all of your Trade.” He paused. “Including the wealth of copper you carry in the Chikosi war medicine.”
Trader stiffened.
“You didn’t think we would look?” He shook his head. “I’ve had quite a time silencing my Priests, but they have a great deal of respect for me. I have told them that despite the wealth it represents, keeping it would bring us ill fortune. So far, they are heeding my words. However, I must know something. Tell me, man of honor, why should I allow you to take the war medicine back to your people, where it will eventually be used against us?”
Trader nodded. A fair question. “Power sent the war medicine box to us, entrusted it to our care. I know my people have a new war medicine. This one was lost long ago. Perhaps it is time that it is used for something besides war. Perhaps, like the Seeker, it only wishes to go home to die. It shall be my request that when I am buried, the box will be buried with me. I cannot promise you things beyond my ability, but I shall do whatever it takes to keep that war medicine from ever being used against the Tsoyaha.”
“I take your oath, man of honor.” The Kala Hi’ki paused. “As to the Contrary …”
“Yes?” Old White asked, curiosity growing.
“She responds to certain herbs. I think over the coming days I can help her to deal with her Power. If you can wait for a time, she may find a way to focus, to control her fear, and handle the Power that now consumes her.”
“We would be honored, Kala Hi’ki.” Old White glanced at Trader. “Power brought us here for a reason.” He smiled cunningly. “And we do serve the Power of Trade. We have things from the north. Perhaps the Tsoyaha would be interested in some of them?”
“Perhaps they would.” He raised his ruined hand. “We are preparing for the solstice ceremonies—one of our most important observances. This is the time that we call Mother Sun to begin her journey northward. You will be welcomed among our people, though I suppose our high chief will wish to see you and hear your story. He is most interested in you. I have had to fend off runner after runner seeking information.”
“We thank you, Kala Hi’ki.” Old White bowed to the blind man.
“I ask only that you heed our ways, and respect our customs.”
“It is done,” Trader agreed. “As I recall, you make offerings to Mother Sun at this time. We are Traders, of an enemy people, but might we make a gift and offering in the name of the Tsoyaha at the solstice?”
“Why would a Chikosi do this thing when it benefits the Tsoyaha?”
“Because all Power is shared,” Trader said, images of a Yuchi square filling his head. Was he really spared? “I may not have seen as many peoples as the Seeker, but we all share a respect and reverence for Power. Perhaps this is a lesson that has faded along with Cahokia. My people may believe they were made of clay from the sacred mountains of the west, but we, too, honor the sun. We are taught that Mother Spider brought sacred fire to earth for all peoples. And perhaps, Kala Hi’ki, just perhaps, seeing a Chikosi offering prayers for her well-being, while in the midst of her children’s most sacred ceremony, might bring a smile to her. Perhaps she will think kindly of all of us.”
The Kala Hi’ki vented a weary sigh. “I think it is good that you are unique among your people, Trader. I would fear for our continued prosperity if all Chikosi had your sense and courage.”
As the blind man turned to go, Old White asked, “Kala Hi’ki, I would know why you have changed your mind about us.”
He hesitated, not turning back. “Because I am like you in the end. No matter what the cravings of my heart, and my thirst to repay the Chikosi for what they did to me, I, too, serve Power.” He laughed ironically. “I now wonder if that is not why you were sent here. To remind me of that fact.” Then he walked steadfastly to the rear and vanished into the hallway.