Red bone's Arc

Chapter 11 of 12

The three chiefs sat bound in the snow. Their warriors stood behind Red bone now, kneeling to the man who had shamed their masters. But the chains at the shrine snapped loud as a whip. The war-moose tore free. One iron link flew past Red bone's ear. The beast swung its massive antlers, hung with old charms and trophies, and charged into the crowd. Warriors scattered. A spear-butt caught one man in the chest and threw him flat. The moose wheeled, eyes rolling white, hooves cracking the ice. Red bone saw his new men break and run. If the beast trampled them, their loyalty would die with them. The fear he had built would turn against him. He could not win them and watch them crushed in the same hour. He did not draw his axes. He remembered the white bear. He had tamed it by meeting its rage with stillness. This beast was no god. It was a frightened animal wearing another man's chains. Red bone stepped in front of the charging moose. His warriors shouted for him to move. He planted his feet on the ice he had learned to walk. The crimson hound darted to his side, low and silent, her red coat bright against the snow. She did not bark. She circled wide and nipped at the beast's heels, turning it, slowing it. The moose skidded on the ice and swung toward Red bone. He held his ground. The antlers stopped a hand's width from his chest. He raised one open palm and laid it flat on the beast's muzzle. The painted hide trembled under his hand. He spoke low, the way he had spoken to the bear. "No one chains you now," he said. "No one rides you to die for cowards." The moose snorted. Its breath fogged his face. Then its head dropped. The great weight of it leaned into his hand, not to crush him, but to rest. The warriors fell silent. They had seen a man stop a war god with an open palm. Red bone stripped the broken chains from the beast himself. He let the iron fall in the snow. The moose stood free beside him, and it did not run. His warriors knelt again, deeper this time. The three bound chiefs watched their last weapon choose their enemy. Berry came down into the hollow then, his breath ragged from the climb. He looked at the freed moose, at the kneeling men, at Red bone's hand still on the beast. "You have every clan now," Berry said. "Six chieftains broken. Their warriors are yours." He paused. "But the clans have never had one king. They will want proof you can hold them in a hall, not just a battlefield." Red bone looked north, toward the great hall where the clans had always gathered. The fighting was done. The ruling had not yet begun.