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People of the Wolf(147)

By:W. Michael Gear


Ice Stalker considered that. "We'll hold the western borders of our land." He paused for a long eloquent moment, then stabbed out a finger. ' 'But you had better recover the White Hide!"

Ice Fire held his eyes until the leader looked nervously away. "I understand Tiger Belly Clan's concern. You've honored the White Hide for many years. But that does not mean the rest of us value it less."

"Just get it back," Ice Stalker rasped before striding angrily from the shelter.

"Yellow Calf? Horse Tracker?" Ice Fire turned his cool eye on them. "Are you willing?"

"Send the runners." Horse Tracker sighed. "I am responsible for my clan. We'll go south—through the ice—and get

our Sacred Hide back."

Yellow Calf nodded. "My clan is with you. And this Enemy will pay."





Chapter 59



Snow clung to the air, stinging Raven Hunter's face as he trudged toward the mountains forming a high ivory wall. The sky glowed dully with waving curtains of gray clouds. Storm coming.

He staggered under the weight. Rolled in a long tube, the heavy Hide bowed his shoulders where it bent over his back. Step by agonizing step, he climbed up the rocky slope.

He'd avoided the easy trails, pulling his exhausted body over the roughest paths he could find. They'd never follow him here. Never! Wind Woman's violent breath caught him, almost toppling him over under his burden. Gasping, he grinned into the evening. Wisps of snow twisted out of the mottled sky. He turned in the last light, staring back over the flat, seeing the snow where it blew in streamers along his backtrail.

"Made it! Made it this far." Puffing his exertion, he threw ' himself into the last ascent, legs trembling as he topped the ridge and froze. A woman waited, eyes on the trail to the west that he'd avoided.

"Dancing Fox," he gasped, chuckling. "Dancing Fox!"

She turned, catlike, darts ready to cast. '

Hunching his back to redistribute the weight, he reeled forward.

"Raven Hunter?"

"It's . . . me," he wheezed, settling the heavy Hide as he dropped, panting, grinning up at her. In the back of his mind, Ice Fire's warning about the Hide sucking up his soul rang like a warning shriek, but he ignored it, unable to bear the weight any longer.

She stared at him, chin up, expression cold as the glacial snow blowing down from the cloud-black sky. Wind Woman whipped the thick flakes around, a sheet of snow obscuring the plain below.

He coughed, trying to catch his breath, and waved at the rolled Hide. "There! Look, see! The very soul of the Mammoth People is mine!"

She studied the thick roll of hide indifferently. "So."

He realized she remained wary, balanced, darts poised for thrusting.

He wiped the sweat from his clammy brow and blew a thick puff of breath into the falling night. "It's their totem, you see? I went down to die—to kill this Ice Fire of theirs. To show everyone that I was still the warrior of the People . . . despite Runs In Light's tricks. Only I stole their most sacred totem, the White Hide, the heart of their people. Now I'm taking it south, through the hole in the ice. With this Hide, I reclaim my place as leader of the People!" He shook his head, snorting condescension. "So much for my brother."

"You stole a mammoth hide from the Others?" She shook her head, watching him uncertainly.

"Their Sacred Hide," he corrected emphatically. "Don't you see? I've gutted them, just like that! They can't stand against us now. I've stolen their spirit, their will to resist. Now"—he grinned—"I've found you. The visions, you see, they're coming true. With this Hide, I destroy Runs In Light. I vanquish the Mammoth People. I reclaim leadership,, taking us all to the other side of the ice. Then you're mine. No one else will stand against me."

She shook her head. "Never."

"Forever," he corrected, smiling victory. "I'll break Runs In Light. Disgrace him."

"Why? You don't need to—"

"Yes, I do. It's part of the Dream. We have to fight and I have to win. It came to me the night after I stole the Hide from Ice Fire. I saw it all clearly then. Yes"—he laughed softly—"clearly."

She crouched, darts ready, tangles of black hair fluttering before her as her thoughts jumped to Wolf Dreamer's words. "The cataclysmic ..."

He laughed gleefully. "Remember those nights when we shared robes? Remember?"

He patted the shining White Hide. Thoughts of her warm body against his stirred his long-frustrated manhood. Chuckling again he carefully unrolled the White Hide, the snowy hair gleaming in the faint light.

In a sultry voice, he called, "Come, Dancing Fox. I've missed you. It's been a long time since I parted your legs.