Free The Orenda Joseph Boyden by Joseph Boyden

his forehead with a cloth, then drops his hands back into his lap, seeming almost frightened. “Wood,” he says. “Long wood. Two woods.” I laugh, wondering if Gosling has damaged him. The Crow makes a chopping motion. “His hands are attached. His feet are attached,” he says. “Hurt. He dies you.” He points to me. “You die.”
    I feel rage flush my face. “If he says once more that I will die,” I tell Gosling, “I’ll kill him.”
    “Shhh,” she says, and squeezes my hand again. “He struggles with the language. I’ve simply baffled him. He’s told me how this Christ”—she pauses, as if the strange word is distasteful—“this Christ is the son of their most powerful oki. Supposedly, he was murdered by people this crow thinks were much like us.” She stops and smiles at the Crow again, licking her upper lip. “He pleads with me,” she continues, amusement in her words, “he pleads with me to pray to his okis, for it seems I will go to a bad place if I do not.”
    The Crow nods enthusiastically, and I wonder how much of what Gosling’s said he understands.
    “What do you think of all this?” she asks me.
    “I think that I will kill him very soon,” I say.
    She pulls her hand from mine. “It seems we find ourselves at a place where the river splits,” she says. “Important decisions to be made, Bird.” I can’t remember her ever saying my name out loud. “Decisions to be made.” The Crow tries to speak again, but she waves her hand and he stops, looks back down at his hands folded in his lap. “He doesn’t have the desired power over me,” Gosling says. “I fear, though, that he will begin to have some over others once he learns the language better.”
    I scoff at this. “He’s a sad joke for a man,” I say. “He knows nothing of the land, nothing of us.”
    “He isn’t stupid,” she says after a pause. “Don’t confuse his inability to speak well with his plans for us. You yourself challenged others to try to speak his language before laughing at him for trying to speak ours.”
    “Baah,” I say. “That was before I understood his intentions. I caught him touching my child, trying to work something on her. I should’ve killed him then.”
    “You know you can’t,” Gosling says. “The elders won’t condone it.” She looks at the Crow and again strokes her braid slowly. He fidgets, and a small moan escapes his mouth.
    “He’s not a man,” I say.
    Gosling dabs a finger into her mouth. “I rather like his build,” she says softly. “The colouring of his eyes intrigues me.”
    I get up to leave. “Have him, then.”
    As I walk for her door, she speaks. “I tease you. Do you really think I could be attracted to such a stinking and awkward creature? I chose you for a reason. I just want to test this one’s strengths.” She looks at the Crow and he looks away. “Make no mistake,” she says. “His strength’s building, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, he will begin to win some of the weaker ones over.” She turns her head up to the dying light pouring into the hole of her lodge and the sunlight strikes her face in the gloom.
    Her eyes are closed, and her palms rest on her lap. “He’ll gain power because someone you don’t want to believe would ever help will assist him in spite of you.”
    I stand and watch her glowing face. I will her to tell me more.
    “Your solution to all of this is simple. On your summer trading voyage, he’ll want to go with you. Bring him. Bring the girl, too. Take the route along the Snake River.”
    I want to tell her this river is Haudenosaunee territory. I open my mouth, but she holds her hand up.
    “Bring your strongest with you,” she says. “Allow the Haudenosaunee to attack and let them kill the Crow for you.” She pauses, opens her eyes and smiles at him. He stares at her, his mouth half-open. “Or better yet, allow them to take him prisoner so that he can be caressed by their coals before they take his