“They are,” I answer, and move to stand at her side before the flickering fire.
“I pray their journey is safe and they arrive home to find all is well.” Mother turns to the matrons on the second ring of benches. “When will the Hills People be leaving?”
Matron Zateri rises, and I spot Hiyawento, who sits on the bench next to her, his arm around his eight-summers-old daughter, Kahn-Tineta. Just seeing Hiyawento and Zateri, knowing they are here, soothes me. Because of the horrors we endured together as children, we are inextricably linked. They live inside me as much as my own souls do.
Zateri smoothes her hands on her buckskin cape. She is just twenty-two summers old, short and girlish. From the back, she is often mistaken for a child. Her two front teeth stick out slightly. To those who do not know her, she appears frail and weak. Slowly, with precision, she says, “I have discussed the issue with Matron Kwahseti of Riverbank Village and Matron Gwinodje of Canassatego Village. We will be leaving as soon as we have identified and collected the bodies of our warriors from the battlefield. Hopefully, we’ll be gone by midday.”
Matron Kwahseti stands up beside Zateri. She is thirty-five with gray hair. “Please understand, we do not wish to leave you. We know how many warriors you lost yesterday before we entered the fight on your side, but we fear our own home villages will be Atotarho’s next targets. We must make certain our relatives are safe.”
High Matron Kittle turns, and firelight sheaths her beautiful face, reflecting from her large dark eyes and perfect nose. Even at forty-four summers, she is renowned as the most beautiful woman in the Standing Stone nation. She does not wear a cape, just a smoked elkhide dress, painted around the collar with yellow hawk wings, that molds to every curve. “We understand, but could you possibly leave a few hundred of your warriors with us, as a symbol of the new alliance between our two nations?”
“As you know, Sindak and his forty warriors asked to remain to help you,” Zateri answers. “We approved their request.”
“Yes, but we need more, High Matron.”
Kwahseti, Gwinodje, and Zateri whisper together.
I search the gathering. Where is my betrothed, Taya? She must be here. Because she is only fourteen, a woman of no position, she cannot sit on the reserved benches. But somewhere out in the crowd, she must be watching me. While I do not see Taya, I do see my sister, Tutelo. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed upon me. Mourning hair drapes irregularly around her pretty face. Where are her young daughters? Perhaps they remained in the Bear Clan longhouse, speaking to their dead father, saying good-bye.
Zateri turns away from the other Hills matrons to gaze at me. “Sky Messenger, have you Dreamed anything about the next few days?”
I spread my arms. “You know my Dream, Zateri. Whether it will come true tomorrow or next summer, I cannot say.”
“But you haven’t Dreamed anything specific about any of our villages?”
“No.”
“Then we must assume the worst.” Kwahseti exhales hard.
Murmuring passes along the walls as speculations fill the council house.
Kittle holds up a hand, and the voices die down. “Please, continue, High Matron Zateri.”
Zateri hesitates before she says, “We have a great deal to do when we get home. We have decided that we must combine our villages so that we may protect each other. Coldspring Village and Riverbank Village will be moving to join Canassatego Village, since it is the farthest away from Atotarho Village. We dispatched messengers last night, instructing our villages to pack up and move as soon as possible. But our children and elders will make it slow-going. Once they arrive, they will still be very vulnerable. And they must pack and transport every kernel of corn they have.”
Kwahseti adds, “You know how many warriors Chief Atotarho still has. After yesterday’s battle, between our three villages, we possess only around two thousand warriors. One thousand five hundred are here. In addition, we left a total of around five hundred at home to protect our three villages. They will have to hold off any attacks upon Canassatego Village until we arrive. Atotarho will destroy our families if he can.”
Zateri says, “We’re sorry, High Matron Kittle. We’ve already discussed this possibility. We would leave a contingent here if we could, but we honestly can’t spare a single person at this point in time. However, when we have secured our new village, we give you our oaths that we will send you warriors. We don’t guarantee that there will be many, but we will send as many as we can.”
Kittle clamps her jaw. “How long will that be?”