enter a period that will be good for both of our peoples.”
“I think, High Chief, that is why Power sent us on this journey. Somehow, we must make an offering that returns Power to balance. I think red Power has been in ascendance. Perhaps it is time for the white to prevail.”
“That may be.” Born-of-Sun continued to stare thoughtfully at the copper. “And if it is the case, I am more determined than ever to keep you here. You could still work for the white Power from Rainbow City. And perhaps I could obtain this copper.” He shot Trader a sidelong stare. “Do you know how tempting this is? What it would say about me if I displayed such wealth in my palace? Such a piece of copper would literally shout out to the world: ‘Here is the greatest chief on earth!’ ”
“I thought you loved your children.”
Born-of-Sun turned quizzical. “My children? Of course I love them! They are my world.”
“Then why would you destroy them?” Trader asked. Born-of-Sun might be the high chief of the Western Yuchi, but he loved his children like a fawning grandmother. “Because I think anyone who takes this copper—who tries to own it—will find their souls being devoured by it in the end.”
“Is it eating your souls, Trader?”
“It was. Until I thought you were going to tie me inside one of your squares to hang spread-eagle and naked while you Yuchi burned my flesh, cut out my eyes, and slowly sliced me to ribbons.” Trader stared thoughtfully at the gleaming metal. “Old White, the Seeker, once told me that no one actually owned copper . . . that it just passed through our lives. Power wishes this piece of copper to reach Split Sky City. I am only its means of getting there.”
“For what purpose, Trader? The Sky Hand are our enemies. You Chikosi have been at war with us ever since you conquered the Black Warrior country. Why should we allow Spirit Power to strengthen them?”
“When we played chunkey, High Chief, I played for peace.”
“And ended up a rich man. My people—almost as one—bet against you.”
Trader grinned. The winnings, most of the Western Yuchi’s wealth, filled two large storehouses. More pots, blankets, jewelry, and baskets of food than he and Old White could ever take with them in their two canoes. “We will give it all back, High Chief.”
“All of it?” Born-of-Sun asked, surprised.
Trader sighed. “For most of my life I have served the Power of Trade. As I have so recently discovered, we serve Power’s plan. Not our own.”
“And what do you think that plan is?”
Trader stared back and forth between the war medicine box and the copper. “I don’t know, High Chief. All I know is that I have to get both the copper and the medicine box to the Chikosi at Split Sky City. And once there, I suppose it is in the hands of Power . . . and the Contrary.”
Three
In the Dream, Morning Dew ran. The pounding of her bare feet on the hard clay plaza was to the beat of a thousand voices screaming their support. She could feel the crowd as she raced through White Arrow Town—sense them, like a giant living creature. The spirit of the moment gave her flying feet speed to rival a deer’s.
She knew this day! It had been the happiest of her life. This was the marriage chase, and behind her, Screaming Falcon was running his heart out in pursuit. She could feel his presence, sense the rhythm of his feet in time with the rapid beat of her heart.
With the agility of a cougar she threaded her way through White Arrow Town, rounding buildings, leaping baskets, and darting between buildings. The sunlight seemed to pulse with each tearing breath in her lungs. Still she ran, goaded by the roar of the crowd, jubilant in her speed and cunning.
The Dream was so real it filled her with a bursting joy. All the love that brimmed in her souls rose golden within her. Soon, as was inevitable, Screaming Falcon would lay his hand on her shoulder, symbolically claiming her as his bride. At that
Learning to Kill: Stories