Okwaho drew in a breath, then bit his lip. What right did a stranger have to talk with him about this? Part of his mind wanted to tell him to go away and leave him alone. But another part of his mind was thinking differently. Let this man speak, it was telling him. Carries had told such good stories, perhaps he would tell another one now. Okwaho put his hand to his forehead, trying to sort out the confusion he was feeling.

“It is a very hard thing to lose a friend,” Carries said. “I had a twin brother. His name was He Is Standing. He was taken by war. But he was not taken as a captive like your friend. An enemy arrow pierced his heart. I held him in my arms and felt his spirit leave. I felt broken. My mind became so full of loss and anger that all I could think about was revenge. I needed to take one of their lives in return.”

Okwaho looked at Carries. The man’s voice had grown deeper as he spoke of that loss.

“Did you do that?” Okwaho asked. “Take revenge?”

“Oh yes,” Carries said. He patted his right arm and then held up both hands as if aiming a bow and releasing an arrow. “I was a good warrior then.” He slapped his hands together. “I took one of their lives.” He slapped his hands a second time. “And then I killed another.”

Carries shook his head. “But it did no good. The pain I felt in my mind did not go away. Not until I met . . . him.”

Carries took a deep breath and looked off into the distance. It was as if he was going back to that moment of meeting the Peacemaker. Okwaho said nothing, waiting until the man was ready to speak again, but also eager now to hear what he would say. Perhaps it actually would lift his heart and give him hope.

chapter twelve

A FIRE THAT IS BURNING

Carries nodded his head as if he’d just heard something spoken that only he could hear. Whatever it was, it brought a small smile to his lips, making the tattooed fish twitch its tail. He turned back to Okwaho.

“Do you know how someone looks when they are bringing good news? Like a grandmother announcing to the people the birth of her first grandchild? Or perhaps a hunter returning from the forest carrying a deer over his shoulders? Imagine such a look on someone’s face and then imagine that look being many times as happy and self-assured. That is the way the face of the stranger in white appeared to us. So, even before he spoke before our council, I was ready to listen.