People of the Wolf by Kathleen O'Neal Gear & W. Michael Gear

Author:Kathleen O'Neal Gear & W. Michael Gear [Gear, Kathleen O'Neal & Gear, W. Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Cultural Heritage, Historical Fiction, Sagas, General Fiction, Prehistoric peoples
ISBN: 9780812507379
Publisher: Tor
Published: 1990-06-30T14:00:00+00:00

Clan. He’d wanted her as a first wife. Then he had

married Moon Water, a captive he’d taken in a

raided camp.

Moon Water bent to her burden, looking sul enly up

at Jumping Hare, a smoldering fire in her eyes.

She’d be trouble; One Who Cries could feel it.

Nevertheless, her lithe body and the way she moved

with undulating grace drew his eye. A brief fantasy of

stripping her, running his hands over her high ful

breasts, parting her firm legs, played through his

mind. He felt himself The vision popped as an elbow

punched his ribs.

Startled, he shot a quick glance at Green Water. She

doubled her fist, eyes knowing.

“Just daydreaming,” he muttered.

“Sure,” Green Water growled under her breath; but

she couldn’t keep the twinkle from her eye.

One Who Cries grinned sheepishly and went to

gather another armload of fat as Singing Wolf cut it

loose.

Everywhere, camps of the People had taken in the

new women captured from the Others. The elderly

women worked hard to teach them the legends and

myths, to make them one with the People—even

though they would always be second class wives.

The captives learned. They remained for the most

part sul en, angry, servicing their new husbands with

resignation.

Stil , many continued to try to run away.

“How long?” Green Water wondered, looking at the

growing pile of fat as One Who Cries dropped the

greasy slab.

He stood, easing the crick in his back, trying to wipe

the gobs of fat from his thick fingers. “Another week?

Maybe two? The freeze wil be hard in the ground by

then. Snow won’t be that deep and we can walk into

the deep cold. There’l be good travel then.”

“The sooner the better. Singing Wolf is worried.”

“And I’m worried,” One Who Cries agreed. “They’l

strike back. According to Blueberry, they have to.”

Green Water tilted her head, soft eyes on her

husband. “I think she’s seen a lot more of the Others

than Raven Hunter. I listen to her talk and I think the

men should heed what she says. If half of what she

says is true—”

“We’re in deep trouble,” One Who Cries agreed,

watching Blueberry take time to nurse her child.

Green Water nudged him, humorous reproach in her

eyes. “The child wil grow up as one of us.”

“Can you believe Raven Hunter wanted to kil it?

You’d think he’d learn.”

“He’s crazy.” Green Water lifted her chin, long

shining lengths of hair fal ing around her firm throat.

A wistfulness lay in the corners of her broad mouth.

“I hope he’s not as crazy as Dancing Fox says.”

Fox sighed heavily, shaking her head. “He is.”

Green Water studied One Who Cries thoughtful y.

“Incidental y, I noticed that you told most of the band

leaders how to find Heron’s val ey.”

A few yards away, Singing Wolf had taken his baton,

striking flakes off the sinew-clogged biface he was

using to butcher the mammoth. The clack-snap

carried to One Who Cries on the cold breeze,

reassuring, the familiar sound of meat making. Why

didn’t it soothe him?

He fil ed his lungs, blowing out into the cool air to

watch his breath condense. Around him, the hil s

rose, crumpled shale outcrops on the ridges as the

folded topography rose to the high mountains to the

west.

The air cut cleanly through his lungs, bringing the

scent of mammoth and trampled wormwood and

sedge.

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