People of the Wolf(13)

"Grandmother?" Laughing Sunshine grabbed one of the crone's withered hands. "What's in Light's eyes?"

"Dream . . ."the old woman whispered. Slack-jawed, she stared absently at nothing. "Wolf's in his eyes. Wolf . . ."

One Who Cries shifted, turning uneasily to Crow Caller. "Is this true? You've led us many places . . . healed us when we were sick. Runs In Light says your vision is wrong. How do we know who's right?"

"He's a boy," Crow Caller said flatly. "He plays games with the survival of the People. Dreams take fasting and preparation. You don't—"

"He hasn't eaten for four days," Laughing Sunshine blurted. "He gave his food to me ... for the baby." She pointed a trembling finger at the death drift.

"Aiieee ..." Gray Rock, age-thin lips twisting in her wrinkled face, turned beady black eyes to Runs In Light. "Four days, eh? Spirit number. Like the way of Father Sun over the heart of Earth. Opposites crossed."

"He's a boy!" Crow Caller shouted, shaking a fist.

Runs In Light trembled as if the shaman's horny hand had slapped him. "Wolf came to me. He'll save those who go south. He showed me the break in the Big Ice where we can pass. Beyond is mammoth. Buffalo are there. Caribou grows new antlers in green grass."

Dancing Fox's mouth parted as she met Light's eyes. "I see the Dream," she whispered. "It's there. Reflected in his—"

"Get inside the shelter!" the old shaman ordered. "Go warm my robes. We go north tomorrow . . . and I want a good night's rest first."

"No," she said. Stunned by his anger, she looked up at him, uncomprehending, feet rooted to the spot. Rage burned fiercely in the old man's thin face. He drew back his hand to strike her.

She threw up her arms in defense, stumbling away, murmuring, "Don't touch me!"

"Go!" Crow Caller shouted.

As she scuttled toward the shelters, she glimpsed the

sharpness in Runs In Light's face as he stepped forward. Broken Branch placed a restraining hand on the youth's shoulder.

Crawling through the flap, she heard her husband's powerful voice: "Don't listen to this child! Mammoth lie just over there ... to the north! I've seen our hunters surround them, driving darts deeply into bawling calves. The mothers whirl, trunks lifted to seek Wind Woman for our presence. But we're cunning! The calves flounder in the deep snow, their blood soaking our darts. The herd stampedes, running north, and we harvest—"

"Liar!" Broken Branch raged. "You see nothing. You make this up as you speak. There's no Dream in your eyes."

Fox cringed as the sharp slap carried through the shelter. Huddling in Crow Caller's robes, she pulled them over her head to block the continuing sound of flesh on flesh. Anger so violent filled her that she retched suddenly into the corner, her stomach twisting in pain.

She feared for the old woman, and for herself, for defying Crow Caller. As she had shamed him today, he would shame her tonight. She curled into a ball, wincing against the agony she knew would come.

Crow Caller drew his hand back to strike Broken Branch again. The old woman rocked away, crabbing over ice, muttering to herself. Cloud Mother crept through the grayness overhead, streaking the sky with ribbons of pink and orange.

"Leave her alone," Runs In Light said tightly, the vision of Dancing Fox's terrified face sharp in his mind. Wolf flowed rich and strong in his veins. Deep in his soul, a hatred rose for this old man who tortured his people.

"What? Words of valor from my brother?" Raven Hunter said, arms crossed as he watched.

"You would break the People's peace?" Crow Caller accused. "You? You would threaten me?"

"There's no peace when an old woman suffers. You've already broken the—"

-''Don't tell me." Crow Caller pulled himself straight, chest thrown out. "I have the right to punish where—"

"No one has that right. Not even—"

"I'll kill you, boy. My Spirit Power is great!" Livid, the old shaman grinned, revealing yellowed and broken teeth.

Crouching low, his skinny arm snaked out of his sleeve, tracing magical signs in the air.

Runs In Light took a deep breath, nervously fingering his darts. "Wolf protects. I don't fear you." But he did. Once too often he'd seen the powerful effects of the old man's magic. Silently, he prayed to Wolf for courage.

Hushed whispers swirled behind him, feet sliding on snow to clear a space so the two shamans could face each other alone. Power sizzled on the frigid air.

"In four weeks," Crow Caller sang in a haunting melody with his head thrown back, "your stomach will ache from turning itself inside out. . ." Soon the chant became incomprehensible. The old man raised his arms, and his voice trembled to the sky as he cavorted in an unknown dance.