Red bone's Arc

Chapter 2 of 12

The dead chieftain's warriors followed Red bone back to his war camp, but they did not follow like men who had chosen him. They walked behind, silent, hands near their axes. By morning they gathered near the gate of his campus, forty of them, muttering over their lost chief. Red bone watched from the wall. One wrong word, and they would rush him together. "They won't bleed for a stranger," Berry said. He climbed the stone steps beside Red bone, black beard braided tight, red paint flaking on his cheek. His voice stayed flat, the voice of a man who had counted odds before. "You killed their chief. Now you feed them. They taste the insult every meal." "Then I give them something to follow," Red bone said. "Give them a speech and they'll gut you." Berry spat into the snow. "These men respect one thing." Red bone already knew. Up past the camp stood the old trees, trunks grown in the shape of great eagles, wings spread over the frozen ground. Below them lived the white bear. It wore scrap armor that an old chieftain had strapped on long ago. A brown patch marked its left eye. No clansman had tamed it. Two had tried. Both were buried. He walked out through the gate alone. The mourning warriors parted and watched. He carried no axe. He wanted them to see that. The bear rose when he reached the trees. It stood taller than two men. Its breath steamed. The armor creaked as it shifted its weight. Red bone stopped an arm's length away and held his ground. The bear swung one paw. Red bone did not run. He stepped inside the blow, the way he stepped inside a wild axe swing. He pressed his open hand flat against the beast's armored chest and held it there. His arm shook. The bear roared in his face, hot and rank. He did not flinch. He pushed back, hard, and growled low in his throat. The bear stared at him with its one clear eye. Then it dropped to all fours. It lowered its great head and let him touch the brown patch over its eye. Red bone led the armored bear down to the gate. The warriors fell back. He stopped before them and set his hand on the beast's neck. "Your chief feared you," he said. "I don't fear this bear. I won't fear you." He let that sit. "Fight for me, and I give you a chief who walks ahead of you. Not one who counts you in the dark." The nearest warrior looked at the bear. Then he knelt in the snow. Another followed. Then the rest, one after another, until all forty bowed their heads. Berry came to his side. "They're yours now," he said. "But the other chieftains heard how you took the first. They won't wait for you to come knocking." Red bone stroked the bear's armored neck and watched the far fires. The next chief would come to him.