“We have an alliance with Mogon,” Nita Qwan said.
All six women smiled in immediate relief.
Nita Qwan held up his hand for silence. Ta-se-ho pushed into the long house with Gas-a-ho at his heels.
“We did not go to Mogon’s caves. Instead, we went to N’gara.” He tried to look impassive.
Blue Knife nodded. “Please explain,” she said carefully.
Nita Qwan nodded. “Ta-se-ho found evidence that Mogon was ahead of us-that the great duchess herself was en route to N’gara. We followed her there.”
Blue Knife exchanged a glance with Amij’ha and Small Hands. “Tapio Haltija is an ancient enemy of the Sossag people,” she said.
“Yet you included him in the names, when I was sent,” Nita Qwan said.
“We did,” Blue Knife conceded.
“We wintered in his hold. There we found healing, and allies.” Nita Qwan reached into the quilled bag made of the whole skin of a badger that he had worn slung around his body for months. From it, he withdrew the pipe he had been sent to take to Mogon, Duchess of the Western Swamps.
“I took this pipe to Mogon. And she has accepted it. I took this pipe to Tapio, our foe, and he has also accepted it.” He reached into the badger skin pouch again, and withdrew a belt. It was as wide as a man’s head, and as long as a man’s arms spread wide-thirty-three rows of wampum beads, each bead the size of a pea. It glimmered like pearl and mother of pearl in the soft light of the long house.
The matrons all sighed softly.
“Tapio and Mogon and the Jack of Jacks and a witch-boglin creature from the west have all made this belt with us,” he said. “And so have the Bear people of the Eastern Adnacrags.”
For each people as he named them, there was a diamond in glittering white wampum set in the darkness of the purple, which seemed black in the long house.
“If you take this belt, we will be six nations of free peoples against Thorn,” he said. “Tapio charged me to say the name.”
Blue Knife nodded. “And you have not said the name until now?”
He shook his head.
“So now Tapio knows the belt has reached us. And indeed, we have also said his name three times.” She looked at Nita Qwan. “My son, you have done well-whatever comes to pass, you have performed the charge that was laid on you. I take the pipe from you.” She reached out and took it.
He bowed.
“Ta-se-ho, what think you?” she asked.
The old hunter grunted and sat crosslegged. “I think it is cold and wet out there, and I am too old for it,” he said. “And I think he has done well. All three of us did well to get here alive. I saw Rukh sign in the snow.”
“The Crannog people are moving against us already,” Blue Knife acknowledged. “But the Horned One and Black Heron’s warriors led two of them to their deaths in the snow just four nights ago.”
Ta-se-ho nodded. “Mogon said, come to me. I have more trees and fields than my warriors need or want, and we are far from the sorcerer.”
Nita Qwan nodded. “Tapio said we should travel now, because none of the sorcerer’s monsters love the early spring.”
Blue Knife paled. “Nor do the Sossag people love the early spring. I teach my babies to stay inside and wait for the sun and the dry ground.”
Ta-se-ho nodded. “There are many wisdoms. But if we leave tonight-”
Every woman’s head came up.
“-we can travel at least two days on the ice,” he said. “And when the ice breaks up…” He shrugged. “The Rukh will never find us, much less catch us. Let the sorcerer chase us if he wishes. If his hate for the Sossag is that strong…” He moved his hand. His hand implied that they were already doomed, if this thing was the case.
“Tonight?” Blue Knife asked.
Ta-se-ho spoke with authority. “Tonight, or never,” he said. “My left knee says we will have three cold nights. And then the thaw. Does anyone deny this?”
Blue Knife shook her head. She turned to the other matrons. “It is now,” she said. “Take only what can be taken.” She turned back to the old man. “Children and old people will die.”
Ta-se-ho nodded. “I know. But otherwise, the People will die.”
When the other matrons were gone, Blue Knife leaned to Nita Qwan. “There is something you are not telling me,” she said.
Nita Qwan nodded. He looked into the air above him for moths.
Blue Knife understood. She sent a young girl with stark red hair-a new captive, or an escaped slave-for the Horned One, and he came.
“We are to leave tonight? Across the ice?” he asked.
“You foresaw it,” Blue Knife said.
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss me off,” the shaman said. He grinned like a false-face mask at Nita Qwan. “My wife says you’ve done brilliantly. My apprentice seems to be stronger than I’ve ever been. Perhaps I should go and spend a summer ramming all the Dulwar girls at N’gara.”
Blue Knife smiled. “I’m sure your wife will say yes if you put it that way,” she said. “Nita Qwan is hesitant to tell me something. He looks for moths.”
The shaman nodded. He pulled out a little drum and began to beat it a-rhythmically. Then he began to sing-tunelessly.
Even then, Nita Qwan bent over and whispered into Blue Knife’s ear like a lover.
Three times he whispered. Each time she asked him a question. Finally, she sat back.
“He asks much, our people’s most ancient enemy.” She looked into the long house fire.
“But it is right at many levels,” Nita Qwan said. “And now-tell me what of my brother, Ota Qwan?”
She met his eye. “He is dead.”
Nita Qwan blinked. “The sorcerer killed him?”
She shook her head. “He calls himself Kevin Orley now. He has taken many towns in the south and east. He has sent us his command-that we give him men and food.”
Nita Qwan sighed. He sighed for Ota Qwan-so many men in one skin. The name Kevin Orley meant nothing to him, but he thought that he understood. Ota Qwan had been lost to the sorcerer-as the matrons had intended.
“So,” Nita Qwan said. “We must provide men. How many warriors?”
“Kevin Orley demanded one hundred from the eight towns of the People,” Blue Knife said. “He demanded you.”
Nita Qwan set his face. “It is as Tapio said,” he admitted.
Blue Knife nodded. “So-we will send our best young men to the sorcerer while we run, naked, to the west. This could be a plan for Tapio to have his revenge on us.”
Nita Qwan shrugged. “I speak with caution, as I am young and new to the Sossag people. But Tapio has no need of revenge, as my understanding is that he defeated us soundly and drove us from our homes. And much time has passed since then. And the Lady Mogon guarantees our survival.”
“Yes,” Blue Knife said. “Yes, I agree that all these things are likely. And yet-and yet, younger brother, what I would not give, right now, to have the hardest decision of my summer be the choice of day to pluck the corn.” She sighed. “Go and pack. Be careful. Your wife will deliver in the snow if she is unlucky.”
“I fear I have burned too much luck in the last week,” Nita Qwan said. “You will send me with the warriors to the sorcerer?” he asked.
“When we reach the carrying place where the Great River flows into the inland sea-then I will send you away. You will lead the warriors who go. You will tell Kevin Orley of the terrible winter we have had, and the whole villages we lost to the Rukh.” She smiled grimly. “I am sorry, Nita Qwan. But we will work hard to save your son’s life.”
His son-the matrons thought he would have a son!
And they would work hard to preserve the boy-
– because his father would be dead.
He rose. “I understand,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Blue Knife said. “My only goal is to preserve the People.”
Seven hours later, as the sun set in a spray of red fire in the west, the whole of the Sossag people, all six surviving villages, almost two thousand men and women and children, headed west into the setting sun. They had sledges and toboggans and a few had big travois, and they moved in a chaotic way that belied great discipline, each family leaving a few minutes apart from the next, all taking slightly different routes out to the inner sea-some families travelled a whole day inland, and some went straight downstream to the ice.