When she ducked past him, he caught the scent of pine needles, and found it strangely powerful. On the war trail, he had spent many summers sleeping on soft beds of pine, spruce, or juniper needles. The fragrance brought back those days, and with them the odd comingled thrill of victory and the despair of friends lost on long-ago battlefields.“My chamber is on the right,” he said as he let the curtain fall closed behind him.She politely waited for him to remove his black cape and hang it on a peg on the wall, then followed him into his chamber. The space was small, fifteen hands across. He hosted so many visitors that benches lined all three walls. His belongings were neatly stowed in baskets and pots beneath the benches. His niece had arranged the wooden trays of food and cups of tea in the center of the floor mats, then spread soft hides around them.He extended a hand. “Please, sit.”Jigonsaseh gracefully removed her white cape and knelt on the deer hides. He couldn’t help but stare at her.
