Free Warbird by Jennifer Maruno Page B

agreed great medicine hid in the feathers of a flying bird, much stronger than those found on the forest floor.
    Satouta’s eyes moved along the rampart. Etienne thought they rested on him for a small moment, but perhaps he only wished it. The famous warrior stepped from the ferry with the grace of a deer and held the casket out to Brother Douart.
    When Satouta entered the church, the crowd followed.
    â€œIn the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,” Father Rageuneau pronounced. His eyes shone as he spoke, undisturbed by the gentle voice of Father Brébeuf explaining the words in Huron. “All men will die and be again brought to life,” the Father Superior said. “Heaven keeps very great blessings for the good.”
    To this there was much nodding and grunting.
    â€œShout praises to the Lord, everyone on this earth,” hesaid. “Be joyful and sing as you worship the Lord.”
    Father Brébeuf closed his eyes and sang the first verse of a hymn in French. The Huron choir sang the next verse in their own language. The priests and the choir sang the third verse in harmony. To Etienne, the sound was truly holy.
    Father Mesquin moved to the front of the altar. He nodded for Satouta to join him. “How do you wish to live?” he asked in a booming voice. The silence of expectation filled the church.
    â€œI wish to live and die a Christian,” Satouta responded firmly.
    As soon as the sacred waters of baptism touched his body, purifying his soul according to the Christian rite, Mesquin shouted out, “You will be named Samuel.”
    There were murmurs and whispers.
    Father Rageuneau uncovered the silver chalice of consecrated wine. With a snap he broke the flat piece of unleavened bread over the chalice. He turned to them all and murmured the Latin words of the communion.
    Satouta opened his mouth. Father Rageuneau placed the bread on his tongue, and Satouta sipped from the chalice. The Father Superior wiped the chalice with the cloth and replaced it on the altar. “I rejoice to see you among God’s children,” he said.
    Father Mesquin headed outside to the waiting crowd. Samuel-Satouta followed.
    The congregation and spectators gathered around a freshly prepared fire pit. For all to hear, Father Mesquin questioned the warrior. “How do you wish to live?”
    Samuel-Satouta responded, “I wish to live and die a Christian.”
    From his robes Father Mesquin pulled a small mirror. He held it up for all to see. A hush came over the crowd.
    â€œMany don’t know about the reflection stone,” Tsiko whispered to Etienne.
    â€œI have one,” Etienne said and grinned at his friend’s great surprise.
    â€œWe must live each day with the reflection of our sins, thus ever ready for our Saviour,” Father Mesquin said, moving it about for all to see. Catching a beam of sunlight, he kept it steady on a small pile of brush in the fire pit. “Behold the light of God,” he called out.
    To everyone’s amazement, a wisp of smoke emerged from the brush.
    â€œBehold the flame of Hell,” thundered Mesquin as a small flame erupted.
    The crowd grunted heavily.
    Mesquin returned the mirror to his robe while Brother Douart lit the surrounding logs with a torch. Father Bressani appeared at Satouta’s side with the open birch-bark casket.
    â€œCast into the fire the charms you use for hunting,” Mesquin thundered.
    Samuel-Satouta lifted out ornaments of fur and bone and threw them in the fire.
    Mesquin’s face turned a fearsome red. “Burn your magic or burn in hell.”
    The warrior cast a turtle rattle and a feathered stick into the fire.
    A great intake of breath came from the crowd. This time their eyes were not turned toward heaven. They stared at the flames dancing and jumping about these sacred objects.
    â€œCast in your drum,” Mesquin demanded. “Drums confuse your devotion to God,” he