its
territories would pass to Bad Belly's mother, Limbercone —the
oldest daughter. She now sat beside Larkspur, hands folded in her lap, her
broad face weather-beaten and honed. She might have been a younger copy of her
mother but for the long, curved nose that dominated her face. Limbercone would give a lodge to each of her sisters, Phloxseed and Pretty Woman, as was customary. But when they
died, everything would go to Bit- terbrush , Bad
Belly's oldest sister. The People did it that way. Inheritance went through the
women. When the men married, they went to live in the lodges of their new
wives.
Bad Belly had done that when Larkspur married
him off. If only things had been different between himself and Golden Flax . .
.It's over. Forget it.
Bad Belly's aunt, Phloxseed ,
and her husband, Flatsedge , sat along the back wall,
glancing nervously at Warm Fire. Opposite Limbercone sat Cattail, Bad Belly's father. Age had begun to work its way on Cattail,
increasing and hardening the lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth.
Once, when he'd been a young man, Cattail had led a war party against the Wolf
People in the Grass Meadow Mountains and captured the sacred Power Bundle they
guarded so heavily. Every clan feared that bundle. The old stories said that it
was First Man's bundle and that Fire Dancer had given it to the Earth People
just after he'd Danced with fire to renew the world.
Cattail claimed that at the instant he'd
touched the bundle on that long-ago day, his soul had burst into flame and the
bundle had shouted at him that he wasn't fit to be the Keeper of the Bundle.
The Spirit of the bundle had carried Cattail up to the clouds on a fiery
whirlwind and ordered him to return it to its rightful Keeper. An hour later
the Wolf People had come down to the Gathering and sued for peace to reclaim
their bundle. Cattail had given it up willingly, and the Wolf People had provided
the Round Rock with meat and pine nuts for ten years after that. Larkspur had
jumped at the chance of adding Cattail to her family, thereby gaining a great
deal of prestige for her daughter.
Warm Fire broke into a fit of coughing again,
turning his head as he swallowed the fluid his throat had brought up.
Bad Belly settled himself next to Bitterbrush.
She glanced at him, eyes reflecting worry and love for her dying husband. He
took her hot hand into his cold one, gripping it tightly, reassuringly.
Bitterbrush would always make a place for him. Perhaps because she had been
closest to him, or perhaps because of Warm Fire's friendship for her wayward
brother.
"He's dying," Bitterbrush whispered,
a look of misery in her eyes. "What will I do? What will I do, Bad
Belly?"
"Black Hand's a great Healer. Wait and
see." He couldn't help looking across to where Bitterbrush's children, Tand Lupine, sat. They tried to keep stoic faces as they
cast frightened glances back and forth between Warm Fire, their mother, and the
Healer.
Bad Belly's throat constricted. What would he
do when his best friend died? He closed his eyes against the ache that filled
him.
Chapter 2
Weary and weighted with sorrow, Bad Belly
ducked out of Bitterbrush's cold lodge to greet the crimson streaks of dawn
that flamed among the high clouds. His frosty breath swirled around his face
before vanishing in the cold air. He sniffed, catching the odor of frozen earth
and sagebrush. The lodges huddled around him, door flaps drawn down tight
against the chill. Faint traceries of blue smoke rose from Larkspur and Limbercone's lodges. Bitterbrush had spent the night with
her husband at Larkspur's.
Trouble lifted his head and yawned, wagging
his tail in happy greeting. Bad Belly bent down
territories would pass to Bad Belly's mother, Limbercone —the
oldest daughter. She now sat beside Larkspur, hands folded in her lap, her
broad face weather-beaten and honed. She might have been a younger copy of her
mother but for the long, curved nose that dominated her face. Limbercone would give a lodge to each of her sisters, Phloxseed and Pretty Woman, as was customary. But when they
died, everything would go to Bit- terbrush , Bad
Belly's oldest sister. The People did it that way. Inheritance went through the
women. When the men married, they went to live in the lodges of their new
wives.
Bad Belly had done that when Larkspur married
him off. If only things had been different between himself and Golden Flax . .
.It's over. Forget it.
Bad Belly's aunt, Phloxseed ,
and her husband, Flatsedge , sat along the back wall,
glancing nervously at Warm Fire. Opposite Limbercone sat Cattail, Bad Belly's father. Age had begun to work its way on Cattail,
increasing and hardening the lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth.
Once, when he'd been a young man, Cattail had led a war party against the Wolf
People in the Grass Meadow Mountains and captured the sacred Power Bundle they
guarded so heavily. Every clan feared that bundle. The old stories said that it
was First Man's bundle and that Fire Dancer had given it to the Earth People
just after he'd Danced with fire to renew the world.
Cattail claimed that at the instant he'd
touched the bundle on that long-ago day, his soul had burst into flame and the
bundle had shouted at him that he wasn't fit to be the Keeper of the Bundle.
The Spirit of the bundle had carried Cattail up to the clouds on a fiery
whirlwind and ordered him to return it to its rightful Keeper. An hour later
the Wolf People had come down to the Gathering and sued for peace to reclaim
their bundle. Cattail had given it up willingly, and the Wolf People had provided
the Round Rock with meat and pine nuts for ten years after that. Larkspur had
jumped at the chance of adding Cattail to her family, thereby gaining a great
deal of prestige for her daughter.
Warm Fire broke into a fit of coughing again,
turning his head as he swallowed the fluid his throat had brought up.
Bad Belly settled himself next to Bitterbrush.
She glanced at him, eyes reflecting worry and love for her dying husband. He
took her hot hand into his cold one, gripping it tightly, reassuringly.
Bitterbrush would always make a place for him. Perhaps because she had been
closest to him, or perhaps because of Warm Fire's friendship for her wayward
brother.
"He's dying," Bitterbrush whispered,
a look of misery in her eyes. "What will I do? What will I do, Bad
Belly?"
"Black Hand's a great Healer. Wait and
see." He couldn't help looking across to where Bitterbrush's children, Tand Lupine, sat. They tried to keep stoic faces as they
cast frightened glances back and forth between Warm Fire, their mother, and the
Healer.
Bad Belly's throat constricted. What would he
do when his best friend died? He closed his eyes against the ache that filled
him.
Chapter 2
Weary and weighted with sorrow, Bad Belly
ducked out of Bitterbrush's cold lodge to greet the crimson streaks of dawn
that flamed among the high clouds. His frosty breath swirled around his face
before vanishing in the cold air. He sniffed, catching the odor of frozen earth
and sagebrush. The lodges huddled around him, door flaps drawn down tight
against the chill. Faint traceries of blue smoke rose from Larkspur and Limbercone's lodges. Bitterbrush had spent the night with
her husband at Larkspur's.
Trouble lifted his head and yawned, wagging
his tail in happy greeting. Bad Belly bent down
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