People of the Black Sun(133)

Sindak turned to look at where Matron Jigonsaseh slept on her side on the catwalk. She had no blanket. All blankets had gone to warm the wounded. She had her knees pulled up beneath her woven foxhide cape. Of course, the night had been so warm no one had really needed a blanket. CorpseEye rested limply in her hand. Short, gray-streaked black hair rimmed the furry edges of her hood. She hadn’t left the palisade all night. She knew the end was close. Gonda hated to be the one to tell her it was even closer than she’d thought.

“Do you want me to do it?” Sindak said.

Gonda shook his head. “No, I’ll do it. I suspect she’d rather hear it from me.”

“And why is that?”

“Over the long summers, I’ve brought her the news that we’re doomed so many times she doesn’t really believe me.”

“Ah. I see.”

As Gonda put his weight on his crutch, his broken left leg shrieked in pain. He clumped down the catwalk, one step at a time, smiling at the warriors he passed, trying to exude a confidence he in no way felt. Each regarded him soberly.

“Who are they, Gonda?” War Chief Wampa hissed as he passed. Red-rimmed eyes and cracked lips dominated her pretty face as she turned to look at him. Her gray cape with brown spirals looked charcoal in the dimness.

“We’re not sure yet, but don’t worry about it until it gets light. Then we’ll know for sure.”

“But there are thousands!” She glanced at the warriors nearby, trying to keep her worried voice low. “Are they Hills People?”

“We’ve been fighting ‘thousands’ for days, Wampa, and managed to hold out. Matron Jigonsaseh isn’t going to let you down. She’ll figure out something to keep you alive. She always does.”

Those simple words seemed to affect Wampa like a cool salve on a fevered wound. Her shoulder muscles relaxed. “Yes, I know she will. Thank you, Gonda.” She turned back to the wall, taking up her duties again.

As he continued down the catwalk, the warriors who’d heard their conversation stared at him, their gazes flicking back and forth between Gonda and the strange army that had just appeared. Dire whispers eddied.

Despite the noise on the catwalks and the groans and cries in the plaza, when he stood over Jigonsaseh, she still hadn’t awakened. Softly, he said, “Jigonsaseh? I’m sorry to wake you.” No response. Not even a wiggle. “My former wife, forgive me, but I know you will wish to hear that Chief Wenisa is here with a Mountain—”

She jerked awake as though the name had punctured her dreams like a war lance. “Wenisa? Are you sure?”

“Fairly sure. The man is wearing a wolfhide headdress, which you know Wenisa favors.”

As she sat up, she exhaled hard, then leaned back against the palisade and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. “What does Sindak say about this?”

“He suspects Wenisa joined forces with Atotarho just to destroy the Standing Stone nation.”

She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly before she dragged herself to her feet. “Then Wenisa is going to be disappointed.” Bluish half-moons darkened the skin beneath her eyes. Her narrow nose and full lips bore a fine layer of ash—which had fallen all night from the smoldering village.

“My former wife, it’s as bad as can be.”

Jigonsaseh tucked CorpseEye into her belt and reached down to grasp her bow and quiver where they stood canted at an angle against the palisade. She slung them over her shoulder and blinked at the warriors on the catwalk. Every eye had turned to her, and she knew it. She squared her shoulders and called, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear: “Show me where they are.”

As she marched toward Sindak, her black eyes blazed, inspiring every warrior with the confidence that once she understood the situation, she’d get them out of this.

Despite the fact that Gonda had known her for more than thirty summers, the sight of her striding down the catwalk even buoyed his spirits.

The whispers along the palisade changed, going from ominous to something more like guarded determination. She was a living prayer, their last prayer, and if it took every breath in their bodies, they would not let her down. They would fight for her until they simply could not lift their hands.

Gonda clumped along behind her, not trying to keep up, just watching the worshipful expressions of the warriors as she passed without a word, gripping shoulders here and there.

When she reached Sindak’s side, her gaze carefully scanned the meadow. As Gaha sailed over the catwalk, Jigonsaseh’s foxhide hood waffled around her exhausted face.

Sindak didn’t say anything for a time, letting her take it in before he softly commented, “With these new forces, I suspect we have a couple hands of time after dawn before the walls are breached.”