Towa calls, “Hiyawento, let’s stop. It’s getting dark. We need to speak with Tagohsah.”
“All right, but let’s get the information we need quickly, so we can move on. It’s impossible to know how many people in that crowd wish to kill Sky Messenger.”
Dusk has coaxed the fragrances of night from the trees and earth and set them loose on the breeze.
Towa’s gaze fixes on the ugly little Flint Trader. He waits until Hiyawento strides back to tower over Tagohsah like an avenging Earth Spirit, then the three of us close ranks around him, pinning Tagohsah inside our small circle.
Tagohsah hunches like a trapped packrat pushed into a corner by predators. His roached black hair has picked up a coating of dust that gives it a gray tint. The red porcupine quill chevrons across the front of his cape flash with his uneasy fidgeting.
Tagohsah blurts, “What do you want? If you don’t hurry we’ll all be trampled to death!” He runs a pink tongue over his rotted teeth and stares in horror at the crowd moving up the slope.
Hiyawento’s voice is iron: “You told the Landing People that Bur Oak Village was being attacked. How do you know that? Did you hear it from another Trader? Is the story running the trails?”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Tagohsah insists. “Towa, you know my rounds take me to Bur Oak and Yellowtail villages around the first of the moon. As I came down the hill, heading toward the valley, two of Atotarho’s warriors stepped out and blocked the trail. They told me to go home, that there was nothing left of the Standing Stone nation.”
Towa grimaces. “Then you saw nothing except two warriors.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Do you think I actually turned around and left? I’m a Trader. I need good stories. I sneaked through the trees until I could see down into the valley.” He shakes his head grimly. “Your People are in trouble, Prophet.”
“Describe what you saw,” Hiyawento orders.
Fear has begun to beat a stark refrain inside me. Since I first heard Tagohsah speaking, my souls have been conjuring images too terrible to believe. Bur Oak Village burned, littered with dead bodies, all my family, my friends …
“I saw around two thousand Hills warriors surrounding the last smoldering villages of the Standing Stone nation.”
Towa glances back at the crowd. The leading edge has arrived and begun forming up into a murmuring multitude, crowding closer and closer. “How do you know they were Atotarho’s warriors?”
“I saw the evil chief himself! He stood like a hunchback, wearing the black cape covered with circlets cut from human skulls. It was him. I’m sure of it.”
I’m breathing hard when I turn to meet Hiyawento’s tight eyes. “After the battle, he must have split his forces, sending some warriors to punish the rogue Hills villages, while the rest of his army circled back to finish the job at Bur Oak.”
Hiyawento nods, and glances uneasily at the crowd pushing in around us, listening to our every word. Wide eyes stare up at me, as though I’m no longer human, but some strange otherworld phantom. Their hushed voices tremble with awe and fear.
Hiyawento pulls his war club up and menacingly props it on his shoulder for all to see. “If he returned the day after we left, the villages have been under siege for five days. Do you think they could have held out so long?”
Fire seems to rush in my veins, burning a path through my body. “I don’t know.” But I don’t think so.
Towa hisses, “Don’t forget that Matron Jigonsaseh is there. Sindak, too. He knows how Atotarho’s army thinks.”
“If they’ve made it this long, they need help badly,” Hiyawento replies. “Their water and food must be gone.”
I say, “Do you think Zateri sent the warriors that High Matron Kittle requested?”
“Even if she did, there’s no way to know how many she could spare. But it won’t be enough to make a real difference. Not if what Tagohsah says is true.” He glowered at the ugly Trader.
“It is! I swear it.”
Towa turns to me. “What of the Flint nation?”
“I doubt they even know the Standing Stone nation is in trouble. Chief Cord’s army was attacked by Atotarho right outside—”
“What?” Towa and Hiyawento shout at once.
They crowd closer to me and Hiyawento says, “When? How do you know that?”
“Baji escaped the massacre. She came after me.”
“She’s here? With you?” Hope strains Hiyawento’s voice as his eyes scan the trail and the trees. “Where is she?”
I gesture vaguely over my shoulder and am surprised when the entire crowd goes still and turns to look up the hill. “Hiding in the trees up there. She has no idea if any other survivor of the massacre made it home to the Flint nation.”