People of the Wolf(165)

pack of dogs yapped suddenly and raced out into the growing darkness toward him.

"Get away! You filthy ..." Raven Hunter cursed, kicking weakly at the darting beasts.

"Who comes?"

"Raven Hunter," he told the guard arrogantly, trying to stop wheezing. Legs trembling, he staggered past, hearing feet trotting behind him.

"You're hurt. Let me help you. Is that someone wounded over your shoulder? A body? What—"

"Get away!" he cried as the young man reached for the White Hide. As if his words had triggered it, Wind Woman gusted out of the north, a biting nip in her cold breath.

The man backed uncertainly in the dark.

Raven Hunter's eyes gleamed as he stepped into the light of the biggest fire, easing the White Hide down on Green Water's unoccupied robe. The People gaped, eyes wide as if one of the Monster Children had stepped magically from the sky and into their midst. Wolfishly, he peered around. Thick chunks of spruce popped and cracked, twisting spirals of sparks whirling up into the night sky.

"Raven Hunter!"

His name passed from mouth to mouth.

Yes. He laughed to himself, turning on his heels and pinning their eyes, delighted by the awe in their laughter. I'm back, my people. I have returned . . . with a new way. A way you 'II all follow. Now, none may question me. None may challenge MY leadership.

"Look at him! He's different—changed." "Look at the light in his eyes. Like a Dreamer—he's seen something." "How did he dare to come back?" they murmured, backing away as he laughed.

"Raven Hunter?" Buffalo Back appeared from out of the dark, head tilted, rheumy old eyes faded and unsure. Firelight flickered across his wrinkled face.

"I have returned!" he called out. Straightening his back, he jammed his good thumb into his chest, ordering at the top of his lungs, "Look at me!"

They came from all around the camp, feet grating on snow. Anxiously they looked, hissing questions back and forth behind their hands.

"See me?" he called. "Look at a hero!" He knotted a fist and raised it high over his head. "I, Raven Hunter, the first warrior of the People, went to kill the Other shaman, Ice Fire! I, Raven Hunter, first warrior of the People, stole the White Hide instead! What is the life of a worthless Dreamer when the heart and soul of a people can be looted away?''

"You did what?" Buffalo Back asked, eyes going wide. "The White Hide? The White Mammoth Hide? The one their Power ..." He gulped, unable to finish, and backed away a step. A hushed chattering picked up among the rings of spectators.

"I took it!" he asserted, the thrill of victory shooting up through him, lending strength to his weaving body. "I robbed them of their spirit—of their courage and will. Do you think they can stand against us now? Do you think the silly tricks of my witch brother can lead you? Here! Look at me and see a man of true Power! My father, Father Sun, is more powerful than their Great Mystery. Now their greatest totem has fallen to us ... to me!"

"But they'll come after it!" Buffalo Back cried. He advanced, chin thrust out, hands imploring. "You can't take such a powerful—"

Raven Hunter lanced stiff fingers into Buffalo Back's old throat. It took all his strength, but he backheeled the man, his useless arm flapping and blasting pain. Nevertheless, as the old man dropped, choking and gagging, Raven Hunter centered himself, dropping his knee across the old man's throat, his total weight behind it.

The snap carried loud in the air, people staring, mouths opened in shock. For a brief second they stood, then rushed forward as a river when the spring ice breaks, reaching for him.

"Stop!" he shouted, slashing out with his good hand as he jumped backward to grip the White Hide.

People milled, losing momentum, some in the front stepping back as Raven Hunter lovingly stroked the Hide. He felt the Power, using it to push them back. "Yes, you feel it, don't you? The White Hide serves me. I am the Power of the People. As this Hide kept the Others—made them strong— so shall it now keep the People."

Broken Branch hobbled her way through the assembly, el-

bowing people to get them to move. She stopped, swinging her wizened head around the circle, then stared down at Buffalo Back, grunting under her breath. When she looked up, her eyes glittered.

"So," she accused. "You got Buffalo Back this time? Who's left? Four Teeth and me? Then you don't have any elders to stand before you."

' 'I have the Power, old woman.'' The surge filled his chest. "See the White Hide? It's mine. The gift of Father Sun to me, his child. You know the story, don't you, old woman? The story of my mother, taken by Father Sun as she walked by the salt water?"