People of the Black Sun(115)
“Massacre?” Towa’s eyes went hard. “How many were killed?”
As the crowd pushes closer, hemming us in, I whisper, “Hundreds.”
“Dear gods.” Hiyawento rubs his forehead. “Then Cord may be unable to—”
“If he lived,” I say. “Baji says he was badly wounded.”
Tagohsah’s gaze darts over the hungry faces surrounding us. “Whether he’s alive or dead won’t matter. The Mountain People will reach Bur Oak Village long before Chief Cord could pull together a war party and get there to help them.”
We all turn to stare at him.
“What are you talking about?”
He gestures to the east. “On my way here, I passed a huge Mountain army. They said they were on their way to join Atotarho’s forces. They told me they were going to annihilate the Standing Stone nation and split up the country between them.”
Rage fires my veins. “How many warriors did you see?”
“They were scattered through the trees, I don’t know. Thousands.”
Towa and Hiyawento whisper to each other. My gaze shifts to the tree line, searching for Baji and Gitchi. Where are they? My eyes are trained to identify Gitchi’s coat even in a tight weave of grass. I don’t see him.
Hands touch the back of my cape, subtle, almost not there. Then people grow more bold, pushing one another to get closer to me. Whispers pass from mouth to mouth: “… the Mountain People have joined Atotarho … great darkness is almost upon us … Elder Brother Sun is ready to turn his back … that’s where they were headed … Hills People going to destroy the Prophet’s nation … we should help … starving … not enough warriors to…”
I ignore the grasping hands, reach out, twine my fingers in Tagohsah’s cape, and drag him close. When our faces are less than one hand’s breadth apart, I hiss, “I want you to deliver a message for me.”
“What message?”
In a voice loud enough for everyone around me to hear, I call, “Run to every village in the land. Tell them I have foreseen the destruction of Chief Atotarho. Tell them it happens just outside Bur Oak Village!”
I shove him away and the crowd rumbles, a mixture of gasps and voices relaying the message through the ranks.
Tagohsah stumbles and looks at me with half-panicked eyes. “Is it true? Have you?”
I straighten and let my eyes roam the masses. Hundreds of gazes are riveted to my face, as though waiting for me to continue.
I lift my hands, and shout, “I have foreseen the destruction of the evil Atotarho, the man who murdered so many of your loved ones, and it happens right outside Bur Oak Village! Landing warriors are there standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of the alliance! I have seen it! We stand as One. Together, we will do this!”
An awed hush falls, then several people shove through the crowd and run back to Shookas Village, carrying my words, hopefully, to the Ruling Council.
“Sky Messenger,” Towa says as he steps around behind me and begins shoving people back, “we have to get out of here. Now.”
“Wait.” Hiyawento steps in front of me, and shouts, “I need thirty of the greatest warriors of the Landing People to serve as personal guards for the Prophet! Come forward! Who will help me protect him from his enemies?”
Men and women murmur and blink. Feet shuffle, creating an ominous rumble. There seems to be a discussion going on, people talking between themselves about what they should do. I see several heads shake violently and men and women back away.
“He is the greatest Dreamer our Peoples have ever known! Help him!” Hiyawento lifts his war club and waves it over his head so people can see him. “I need thirty warriors!”
Hiyawento has placed them in a difficult position. In essence, he has asked them to swear loyalty to me without the approval of their Ruling Council. It could be construed as treason. Not only that, each knows that Shookas Village needs every warrior in the nation now. The Landing People are more vulnerable than they have ever been, and despite what Tagohsah says, no one can be sure that the huge Mountain army won’t return here to destroy Shookas Village.
“Hiyawento, you know they can’t—”
“These people chose to follow you up the hill without the approval of their elders,” he answers. “I have to know now how much faith lives in their hearts. Enough to willingly follow you all the way back to Bur Oak Village? Let them make the decision, my friend.”
Towa’s back presses against mine, and I wonder if he’s been crowded against me, or just chosen to stand so close. When he stumbles, shoving me into Hiyawento, I know the answer. The crowd is growing too brave.