Spirited by Nancy Holder Page A

indication of their admiration for her courage—and she was screaming at them with English words he had never heard before.
    She had balled her fists and was punching at the air, crying and shrieking like the winter wind. What was left of her dress was in shreds, but she gave no thought to her once-treasured modesty. Her fury reminded her of the vengeful protection of Great Bear. The death of such a woman would be a loss…unless she lived to bear Yangee sons.
    Then her death would be welcome.
    “What a wild thing,” Oneko said approvingly as he watched her.
    “She won’t even burn well,” Sasious hissed. “There’s no fat on her. The Yangee have starved her.”
    There was an angry cut above her eye and a scratch on her cheek.
    I’d use monarda—bee balm—and pollen on that
, Wusamequin found himself thinking. He was looking at her with a healer’s eye. But if she burned tonight at the fire, what need was there to dress her wounds?
    It took Wusamequin a moment to realize that Oneko was studying him. Warmth touched his face as he looked questioningly at the tribal leader. Oneko was smiling.
    “Very well, medicine man,” he said. “We shall make sure the prisoners are able to answer questions. Now go to the sweat lodge. You carry death with you.” He raised his voice. “All of you, purify yourselves!”
    Sasious hefted his tomahawk as he turned away from Oneko and Wusamequin. The medicine man began to turn as well, but Oneko said, “What has happened between you?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Was it the woman? Does she plead with your heart?”
    “She is a Yangee,” Wusamequin declared. “Nothing more.”
    “After you have gone to the sweat lodge, come to my wigwam and talk to me. I have things to say to you.” Oneko adjusted his blanket around his shoulders.His hair was turning white; he was becoming a very old man. In the Way of the People, elders were revered above all else. The world was difficult; it required not only physical strength, but skill and wisdom to live a long life.
    Wusamequin included his head. “I will.”
    He cast another glance at the woman and her father. The laughter of the People had grown so intense that some of the squaws were doubled over. Afraid-of-Everything was prancing among the children, licking at fingers and searching for treats.
    “I will put the captives away, where they will be safe,” Oneko drawled. “And we will talk”
    Wusamequin drew himself up. He said coolly, “They’re of no interest to me, Great Sachem Oneko. With your permission, I’ll be on my way.”
    Oneko reached out a hand, but he didn’t touch Wusamequin’s contaminated flesh. It was the way of the People to avoid contact with those who had killed, until the death was washed away.
    “Today’s a day filled with joy for you, and with sorrow, too. Hatred has lived in your heart for a long time. It will leave a hole in your heart that still must be healed. You are our medicine man. You know this to be true.”
    “I do,” Wusamequin replied.
    “Do not fill your heart with a bad spirit,” Oneko continued. “It will not stay empty long, if you walk your path well. It will heal now that you have fulfilled your vow.” He smiled kindly at the younger man. “Gowith your brothers, who love you.”
    He gestured meaningfully at the retreating Sasious. “Give your brother a gift, something you treasure. Let him know that you value his friendship.”
    It was a wise suggestion. Wusamequin felt his features soften. Oneko was the closest thing Wusamequin had to father or uncle; his blood elders were dead.
    “I will.”
    Oneko smiled at him. “Remember who you are, young shaman. You are more than just another brave. You are our spirit warrior. It is a strong thing to walk side by side with you. Those who believe themselves cast away from you will feel weaker for the loss of your company. That will frighten them.
    “Frightened men do what they must to feel stronger.” Oneko sighed heavily.