The Sky People

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The Sky People Page 3

by Terry Goodkind


  The crowd was silent at her irreverence.

  “The Wolf People warriors can only kill our people because of our law. While they are the worst, it is not only the Wolf People. The Yellow Fish came and stole from our stores of food. The Snow Tribe raids our village as they wish, and last spring stole most of our goats. The Boar Tribe has killed our hunting parties and stolen their game. The Lake Tribe has raided our village, stealing from us, the last time crippling a man and hurting others who tried to stop them.”

  White Crow smirked. “You have forgotten to rage against sickness and fever that has also befallen our people.”

  “For those things we have a medicine man and we have you. I presume you do not also wish to shrink from fighting those as well.”

  The smirk turned to a scowl.

  “Through it all,” she said, “as others steal from us, kill Sun People, and take our women, the most we can do is run and hide and hope they don’t find us. We never fight back to protect ourselves.”

  “You can’t go against our sacred laws. Our Father Sun sent the Sky People to give us those laws,” Standing Bear insisted, his anger finally unleashed. “You cannot go against the laws the Sky People have laid down for us! It is forbidden!”

  She didn’t react to his anger. “While you all do nothing, let me tell you what I am going to do,” she said. “I am going to Spirit Mountain, the land where our ancestors are laid to rest and where their spirits dwell… where one of the Sky People is said to have been laid to rest among us after giving us our laws.”

  “What good will that do?” the shaman demanded.

  “I intend to call the Sky People.”

  Everyone stared in speechless shock.

  Dumbfounded, Standing Bear spoke softly. “No one can call the Sky People,” he said, his voice filled with a lifetime of passionate faith. “The Sky People were sent by our Father Sun. They cannot be called forth by us.”

  “We will see,” River said.

  The old shaman, seeing the stunned looks of the people, finally waved a hand. “For what purpose?”

  “I must ask for their help,” she told him.

  Standing Bear cocked his head. “Why do you need their help?”

  “Because the Wolf People will be coming here to kill us all.”

  Chapter 6

  Standing Bear frowned. “Why would you say that? Yes, the Wolf People kill some of our people, and take some of our women, and they sometimes raid our village and steal from us, and while that is terrible, it is the price we pay to keep the peace with them.

  “Because of that peace the Sun People continue to exist. By enduring some loss, we remain at peace with them and we survive. Because of that peace they do not kill us all. Our laws have made that peace possible.”

  Lightning flickered in the distance where the dark sky had finally met the horizon. Torches held by some of the chief’s council lit the assembled people with flickering light.

  River’s gaze briefly swept the tightly packed crowd, riveted in silence.

  “There will be no more of what you call peace with the Wolf People,” River said.

  Chief Standing Bear and Shaman White Crow shared a worried look. It was Chief Standing Bear who finally spoke.

  “Why do you say such a thing?”

  Raging River reached into the small woven satchel hanging at her belt. She pulled out the mask with the hooked black beak and tossed it to their feet.

  “The man I killed was Great Hawk, the son of their chief. After I killed him, I took his sacred mask. I am proud to say that he did not die an easy death. For that, the Wolf People will come here to kill us all.”

  “Their chief’s son!” the shaman cried. “Great Hawk! You killed Great Hawk? What have you done to us! By killing Great Hawk, you have broken the peace and murdered us all!”

  “I did not go to their village and kill Great Hawk. They hid in ambush and stole Morning Flower. They would have taken me as well had I not fought them off. I’m sure the Sun People’s priestess would have been a great prize for them. I did not choose to be their prize. I have done nothing but fight for the life of my sister and myself. The same as all of you should do for all of our people.”

  “This cannot stand.” White Crow shook his head. “No. This cannot stand.”

  “It is already done,” she said.

  “It is not done,” the shaman said as he lifted his chin in defiance. “You will go to them and offer yourself in sacrifice to atone for killing the son of their chief. This is your fault. You must make it right by giving yourself to them for having killed Great Hawk.”

  “Are you really foolish enough to think that would stop them?” she asked.

  White Crow was red-faced and sputtering in anger. “This cannot—”

  Ignoring the old shaman, she pointed at Walking Stag. “Gather other strong men. You must all prepare to fight to save our people.”

  “What!” He glanced briefly at Standing Bear before looking back at her. “You are not the chief of our people!”

  “No, I am the priestess of our people. The ultimate duty of the priestess is the protection of her people. Until I can go to Spirit Mountain and call the Sky People for help, you and the strongest of the Sun People will stand and fight.”

  “And if we refuse?” he asked.

  River shrugged. “Then you will die. They will be coming. It is only a matter of when. Make your choice. If I could fight for the life of one I love, so too can you. If you love our people, you will fight to protect them. I go to Spirit Mountain to do what only what a priestess can do. I will call the Sky People. While I am gone, you must do what you can do and prepare to protect our people.”

  “How?” White Crow interrupted. “How can you call the Sky People?”

  River hadn’t the slightest idea how. She only knew that she must.

  Since she had no answer, she ignored White Crow’s question, which only angered him all the more. Standing Bear looked angry as well, but he had the good sense to remain silent. While the priestess was not chief, in certain matters her word was absolute. She only hoped that this was one of those matters.

  When White Crow opened his mouth to speak, Raging River shot him a hot glare and held up a finger in warning. His mouth slowly closed and stayed closed.

  “You all need to prepare,” River said as her gaze glided out over the gathered people, the people she loved and wanted to protect. Her voice lowered with quiet power. “The Wolf People will be coming. I have always known that one day they would.

  “You can either fight them off, or you can let them kill you. If you do not intend to fight them off…” She pulled her finger across her throat. “…Then you might as well slit your throats now, for it will be an easier death than the Wolf People will grant you. First, though, you should slit the throats of your children to spare them what is to come.”

  Some people in the crowd gasped; others began to weep. Yet others looked too horrified to weep.

  “This is all your fault,” White Crow said as he shook a finger at her. “You are banished from among the Sun People! Banished! Banished now and forever!”

  “You do not have the authority to banish a priestess,” she said in a calm, dismissive tone. As he shouted and waved his arms in anger, she turned away from him as if he were no more than a cranky child throwing a tantrum.

  “Walking Stag,” River announced, “you must now prepare to protect our people. As priestess, I give this responsibility to you. Gather young men who along with you will be Sun People warriors. Look to Standing Bear for counsel.”

  He looked between her and his chief. “But—”

  “If you want someday to become chief, then this is how you prove yourself. You protect your people to prove that you are worthy of ruling them.”

  River didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and left.

  Chapter 7

  “May I enter?” River called from outside the woven cloth covering the doorway. Symbols worked into the coarse material were meant t
o ward off evil spirits. Or frighten people away. River wasn’t entirely sure which.

  “Yes, child, enter,” came the gentle, familiar voice.

  It was darker than dark outside and smelled like rain was not far off. By the flickers of lightning drawing ever closer, the storm looked sure to make for a frightening night. She needed to be on her way to Spirit Mountain, storm or no storm. Every moment she delayed only made the situation more desperate, but first she needed to visit She Who Knows the Moon.

  When River stepped quietly into the home, the old woman had lit a splinter in the low fire and was using it to light several candles on benches built into the bottom of the mud brick walls. She smiled warmly as she turned and held out a hand, indicating the woven rug on the dirt floor in front of the small hearth.

  “Sit, child. I have been expecting you.”

  River had only just decided to visit the woman before leaving. But having known She Who Knows the Moon as far back as she could remember, and having often sought out her advice, River wasn’t all that surprised at being expected.

  “It is good to see you again, Wise One.”

  She Who Knows the Moon smiled. She had an easy smile. The lines and creases of her weatherworn features seemed to have been shaped by that enduring smile. Only River called her Wise One. She was bent with great age, but she moved easily enough. As River sat on the carpet, the old woman came over and sat close, across from River. She wrapped her shoulders with a light blanket as she waited to hear what River would say.

  “Wise One, I have come to ask your help.”

  Still smiling, she poured something from a jug into a cup. She handed it to River.

  “Yes, I know. As I told you, I have been expecting you.”

  River leaned in, only a bit surprised. This kind of thing wasn’t unheard of with her old friend.

  “You have powers to see into events?”

  She Who Knows the Moon let out a soft laugh. “No, I heard you speaking to the people in the square.” She pointed with a crooked finger. “My door faces a passageway that leads directly to the square. With the way the walls funnel sound, I can often hear what is said there. It saves me the walk.”

  “Oh.” River was a little disappointed that it wasn’t something more mysterious.

  Because she knew so much, and more so because she was so reclusive, people were sometimes a little afraid of her. River, knowing the old woman as well as she did, assumed those fears were merely the ill-informed product of rumor and gossip. Even if some were cautious around her, She Who Knows the Moon was revered in their village, because she knew a great deal about a great many things. She was the one who remembered all the stories of their people, even the stories few had heard, and fewer still remembered. She was a store of knowledge for their people who passed down those stories that she kept alive.

  “You have come to see me because you intend to travel to Spirit Mountain.”

  “That’s right,” River said. “I’ve never been there before.” She didn’t want to admit that she was afraid.

  “That is not quite true,” She Who Knows the Moon said.

  “What do you mean it’s not quite true?”

  “You were there once before.”

  River leaned in. “What are you talking about? I would know if I had been there.”

  The old woman nodded toward the cup in River’s hands. “Drink.”

  River quickly downed the slightly sweet drink so as to get on with the reason she was there.

  “I hate to disagree with one so wise, but I’m afraid you are mistaken. I have never been to Spirit Mountain.”

  “No?” The woman smiled to herself. “How did you come to be the priestess? Tell me.”

  River cleared her throat. “Well…” She frowned. “I guess I’m not sure, but I always believed I was named priestess when the last one died, when I was little, when I was too young to remember it.”

  The old woman’s smile widened. “Your mother never told you the story of how you were named, then?”

  “There’s a story? No, she never mentioned it.” She thought for a moment. “To tell you the truth, whenever I asked she always avoided the subject of how I came to be named priestess. I didn’t want to disrespect her by continuing to ask, so I stopped asking.”

  The old woman nodded with a knowing smile.

  “Your mother was very close to Bright Star,” She Who Knows the Moon said.

  “Who is Bright Star?”

  “Bright Star was the priestess before you.”

  “Really? I never knew that. I’m sorry, but I just don’t remember her.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. You were not yet born.”

  River frowned, trying to understand the whole thing. “How could I be named before I was even born?”

  She Who Knows the Moon let out a long sigh. “Well, before you were born, Bright Star was the priestess. She was quiet and spent much of her time alone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because people were uneasy around her, fearing her because of her position, and also because she was a person who knew what was right and spoke her mind. Much like you. While that fear was only the unfounded fears of people, it made Bright Star sad to have people avoid her. But she did have one friend who was like a sister to her, a woman she loved dearly.”

  “Who was that?” River asked.

  “Your mother.”

  Chapter 8

  River blinked. “My mother? She never spoke of Bright Star. I’ve never even heard the name mentioned before you just spoke it now. I don’t understand. If they were such dear friends, why would my mother never mention it or speak of her?”

  “Your mother had her reasons.”

  “What reasons?”

  The old woman smiled at River’s unquenchable curiosity. “Sometimes you are like a small child, River, always asking ‘why’.”

  River leaned back away a little, trying to look less insistent. “Well, don’t you think that, considering that Bright Star was my mother’s dear friend, that she was also the last priestess, and that I am now the priestess, it is only right that I would want to know the answers?”

  She Who Knows the Moon laughed softly, then, and put a gnarled hand over River’s knee. “Of course, child. Of course. The story is, after all, why you came, even if you don’t realize it.”

  River felt a little more at ease. She put her hand over the old woman’s. Despite being so wrinkled, the hand was soft and warm.

  “Please, will you tell me the story of what happened, then?”

  The other sighed as she looked into River’s eyes. “That is why I have been waiting for you.”

  “Really? Well, I’m listening.”

  “The priestess Bright Star was like a sister to your mother. They found much joy in each other’s company. But then Bright Star was taken with a terrible illness. Despite everything that was done, it could not be cured. Day by day she grew worse as the sickness ate away at her insides. She suffered many different and mysterious afflictions as the sickness progressed and stole away her health.

  “Knowing that her end was near, she confided in your mother that she wished to be laid to rest on Spirit Mountain. The request to be laid to rest with ancestors is the right of those like her, or a chief, or a shaman.

  “Because Bright Star feared that she would not be able to make it there by herself and wanted to go there while she was still alive, she appealed to your mother to make the journey with her and stay with her until the end so as to see to it that she was laid to rest properly.”

  River swallowed back a lump in her throat. Her mother had never told her the tragic story. She was beginning to understand why Lone Willow would avoid speaking of her friend and such a painful memory.

  “But your mother,” She Who Knows the Moon said, “was heavily pregnant with child. With you. Still, Lone Willow would not be stopped from honoring the request of her dear friend, even though Standing Bear forbade it.”

  River knew her mother’s strength. “Sh
e would have gone anyway.”

  “Yes,” the old woman said with a nod. “Standing Bear was in fear for his wife because she was so heavily pregnant, but your mother, like many women, would not be stopped from anything that needed to be done right up until the baby came. So it was that, together, Lone Willow and Bright Star set out on the journey to Sprit Mountain. Your father and some of the other men accompanied them as far as they were allowed. It was forbidden for them to cross the Bitterroot River.

  “The crossing of the Bitterroot to get to Spirit Mountain was difficult on your mother and took nearly all of Bright Star’s remaining strength. Once they crossed, Bright Star was in such pain from the sickness that was killing her that she wept with every step until they were on the slopes of Spirit Mountain. She had brought with her a potion that the shaman, White Crow, had given her. She had but to take that potion and her suffering would be over. But she wanted to live long enough to see her friend give birth.

  “She did not have to wait long. As a great storm swept across the land, together they found shelter in the cave Bright Star chose as her resting place for all time. In the protection of that quiet cave, while the thunder and lightning shook the land all around and the rain poured from the dark sky, your mother gave birth to a girl child. She gave birth to you, there on Spirit Mountain. It brought great joy to Bright Star to see the new daughter of her friend.”

  River sat in astonishment. “I was born on Spirit Mountain?”

  She Who Knows the Moon nodded that it was so. “Because the storm was so violent, the Bitterroot River rose up with tall waves and pounding water. The storm had made the Bitterroot a dangerous torrent that carried uprooted trees and logs. There was no way your mother would risk crossing such treacherous currents in a canoe with her newborn child.

  “Bright Star, now that she had been able to hold her friend’s newborn in her arms and look into her bright eyes, wished to at last take the potion and end her terrible pain. Lone Willow was in great sorrow at the thought of Bright Star dying but wanted her friend’s agony to be over. She asked the spirits to help Bright Star make an easy journey into death.

 

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