Fairbird grabbed hold of the cord in order to draw the bead up to her face. Then she turned and ran to me, so excited I thought she would burst with her need to laugh. Aware of Sun Eagle’s gaze upon me, I inspected the trinket. It was fine work, especially for a young warrior in training. The dyes were simple, the background a burnt orange, and the figure of a bird done in rich brown. It looked like a songbird, I thought, though it was too small for any detail.
In Fairbird’s eyes, it was the most glorious of treasures. So I smiled at her pleasure, signed for her to tuck it inside her doeskin shirt or it might get scratched. She nodded, then ran off with it still clutched between her small brown hands, unwilling to hide it away just yet.
Frostbite whined and pressed against my side. Sun Eagle’s shadow fell across us.
“I saw that she had no name mark,” he said. Then he crouched before me and gently stroked Frostbite’s head. The lurcher trembled but allowed the caress for a few moments before backing away, growling. It would take her time to become used to gentleness. Sun Eagle withdrew his hand, resting his elbows on his knees where he crouched. “Tell me, Starflower,” he said, “is your sister truly cursed as they say?”
I hardly knew how to answer. I could shake my head no, but what good was my word against the word of the village men? So I remained still, looking at him, letting my answer rest in my face. Does she seem a curse to you?
He narrowed his eyes, then turned away, gazing down the hill to the village. “They say you’re cursed as well.”
Who would want a cursed bride?
I picked up my herbs, mortar, and pestle. Let the young man think what he liked. It made no difference to me. If my father bade me marry him, I would. If Sun Eagle refused to take me, I would not.
And if the Beast swept down from the mountains and devoured me, then so be it. I have no say, no voice. I am a woman.
These thoughts rolled through my brain as I rose with my armload to return to the house. Frostbite trotted after, keeping close to my heel. Sun Eagle also followed. He did not enter the house after me but lounged in the doorway, watching as I slid the mortar and pestle into place and began rehanging the herbs I had used for the poultice.
“Do you intend to give the dog back to its owner?” he asked.
This took me by surprise. I paused in my task, staring first at him, then down to Frostbite, who sat by my feet. Sun Eagle must have seen how my expression hardened, for he laughed suddenly.
“Ha! Let the lad come get her if he wants her!” he said. “If he has the courage to face you again, that is. That dog is more yours now than she will ever be his. She would tear out his throat at a word from you.”
I blinked and swallowed hard at this forthright statement of my power. I looked down at Frostbite, who raised soulful brown eyes up to me. I could not imagine her in battle now. Not after coming to know her. She could be broken, of course, could lose the truth of her nature and be made into a monster again. But the real dog—the one whose true name I had discovered—was not bloodthirsty.
I knew, though, that Sun Eagle was right. She would die to defend me. And she might kill her former master in the process. I placed a hand on the lurcher’s head and offered a prayer (not to the Beast, who would revel in blood) that Killdeer would have the sense to stay away.
When I raised my gaze to Sun Eagle again, he smiled at me. It was a warm, knowing smile. A smile that made me think perhaps he saw me. Not merely my silent woman self, cursed and little better than a slave. But me, who I was, with all my longings, weaknesses, and even strengths. He smiled, and I was uncertain how to respond to that look from this young man I was to wed.
At last I came to a decision. I smiled in return.
That moment, we heard the first shout heralding my father’s homecoming.
The elders of all the tribes loyal to my father gathered for the betrothal ceremony marking the Crescent People’s return to loyalty. Redclay Village had never before overflowed with so many warriors and revelers alike, and the women of the village were hard-pressed to provide food and drink for the men.
At the center of it all were the Panther Master and Elder Darkwing. I had hardly seen my father since his return, for he and his recent enemy, wary of each other, were in constant company, each unwilling to let the other out of his sight. Slaves were sent up to the Eldest’s House, ordering me to prepare myself for the betrothal rites.
I was given no information as to what preparations I should make. I did my best on my own, with Fairbird and Frostbite both getting underfoot in their muddled attempts to help and to ensure they were not forgotten. I unwrapped my mother’s gown from where it had been stored since her death. She had worn it for her own betrothal, and it was beautiful, I thought. The doeskin was a warm brown, and many colored beads and stones decorated the neck and sleeves. I put it on and, despite Fairbird’s help, arranged my hair.