“But mother never cried. Not at all. Father—”
“Child, what your mother has to stand, the ancestors have given her the strength to stand. Women were born to carry heavier loads than men.”
Kahn-Tineta let out a tired breath and stared up at the sunflowers hanging from the roof poles. “Do we get that from Dancing Fox and the Wolf Clan matrons who lived long ago in the ancient darkness?”
“Yes. We do. The loss of your sisters has broken your mother’s heart, but she’ll bear that burden with a straight back and clear eyes. If for no other reason than your father needs her to.”
A moment of pride warmed Tila’s heart. Yes, no matter what came, Zateri could and would bear it. Wolf Clan women bent with the winds of change, but when the storm passed they stiffened their spines and got back to work building a better world for their clan and people.
“Great-grandmother? Why did Mother have to go with Father? She almost never goes on war walks.”
“Well, this is different. If we are successful, the full Ruling Council will need to be present when the Standing Stone nation falls. Your mother will stand in for me. Decisions may have to be made on the spot.”
Kahn-Tineta anxiously ran her tongue through the gap left by her missing front teeth. “I wish Mother was home.” Tears filled her young eyes.
Tila hugged her more tightly. “Can I tell you a secret?”
The girl’s eyes widened. “What is it?”
“I’m going to name your mother as matron of the Wolf Clan when she returns, but you mustn’t tell anyone. Can you keep my words locked in your heart until it is announced?”
“Oh, yes, Great-grandmother,” Kahn-Tineta said earnestly. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“I’m glad to hear of it. Many people are not.”
Kahn-Tineta’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though something had occurred to her but she wasn’t certain she should say it.
“What’s wrong?”
Kahn-Tineta glanced around the house to make sure no one could hear her; then she cupped a hand to Tila’s ear and hissed, “Great-grandmother, I’m not sure Mother wishes to be high matron.”
“That’s not a surprise. No one does.” Tila poked a skeletal finger into Kahn-Tineta’s young chest. “You remember I said that. Someday you will have to make the choice of whether or not to lead your people. It is an overwhelming responsibility. But I suspect in the end you will choose to place the welfare of the Hills nation above your own. You will shoulder the burden for the nation’s sake. Just as your mother will.”
“She will?”
Tila nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
Kahn-Tineta crossed her legs and shook one moccasin while she frowned at the swirls of blue smoke gliding above her. “But Great-grandmother, Father doesn’t wish to move to this village. I’ve heard Mother and Father talking late at night when they think I’m asleep. Father hates Grandfather Atotarho.”
At the mention of his name, anger filled Tila, and she could not afford the energy it required. She closed her eyes for several heartbeats to let it drain away. “My grandmother—that would be your great-great-great-grandmother—used to have a saying. She said that for every one person hacking at the roots of hatred, there were thousands swinging in its branches. She told me the only way to survive in this world was to make sure I was the one with the hatchet.”
Kahn-Tineta rolled to her stomach and looked at Tila. A faint smile came to her lips. “I like that.”
“I thought you might. You have a pure heart. But you’re going to have to work to keep it that way. Don’t swing in those branches or you’ll fall and break your neck.”
Brilliant sunshine flared when Pedeza pulled back the door curtain and stepped inside the Wolf Clan longhouse. She looked exhausted, her face drawn and jaw clamped. But when she saw Kahn-Tineta she forced a smile. “Are you ready to go home? The high matron needs to sleep.”
Tila gave her a grateful look—she did need to sleep—but more than anything she longed to keep talking with this precious little girl.
Kahn-Tineta sat up. “Great-grandmother, may I come back tomorrow?”
“You will have to ask Pedeza, but I would so love to see you.”
Kahn-Tineta smiled and slid off the sleeping bench. When her moccasins struck the floor mats, she turned, leaned over Tila, and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Great-grandmother,” she said, and trotted to Pedeza’s side.
Tila extended a gnarled hand to her. “I love you, too, child. Don’t forget the things I told you.”
Kahn-Tineta glanced up at Pedeza, then back at Tila. In a conspiratorial whisper, she said, “I won’t. I promise.”