“Again? Why?”
He exhaled the words, “It’s a long story. I had my bow aimed at the old woman’s chest, and he told me that I could not kill her. He said there were many who had claims upon her life, but I was not one of them. He said I didn’t have the right. I think he meant that only you, Wrass, Odion, and Tutelo had the right to kill her for what she’d done to you.”
Baji had never told anyone the grim details what had happened to her that long ago winter. She didn’t want to see it in their eyes when they gazed at her. “Was he handsome? With long black hair and nose bent slightly to the right?”
Cord’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“Tutelo named him Shago-niyoh. We all saw him.”
Cord held her gaze. It was powerful, like wings lifting her. He asked, “What is he? Do you know? Is he one of the Faces of the Forest, or a—”
“I think he’s lost, Father. A warrior condemned to wander the earth forever. He helped us escape.”
“Why have you never told me this?”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Why have you never told me of your encounter with him?”
Cord hesitated, as though trying to decide. “I don’t know, I wasn’t sure anyone would believe me, and I guess I thought it was … personal.”
Baji untied her water bag from her belt and lifted it to her lips, taking a long drink. The cool water soothed her throat as it went down. She took another greedy swallow, then she handed the bag to Cord, and looked out at the valley again. This area was known as Rocky Meadows for the gray slabs of cap rock that jutted up at odd angles across the flats and along the crests of the surrounding hills. She said, “Shago-niyoh is more than a lost soul. He’s Dekanawida’s personal Spirit Helper.”
“Blessed gods, I knew it. Even that night, I had the feeling the creature was watching over Odion.”
When the trail had been mostly cleared, Dzadi waved to the war party, and led the warriors down into the dense tree-lined portion of the trail, kicking up leaves as they went. Almost impenetrable walls of forest lined the trail ahead of them. Their colorful capes and headbands contrasted sharply with the cold shadows. A few men laughed nervously when the trail narrowed and they had to fall into single file.
As he watched their progress, Cord said, “Have you ever seen him again?”
“No.” Her gaze remained on her warriors. “Have you?”
“No.”
Their war party had gotten too far ahead for her comfort. “Come on. Let’s catch up.”
Cord’s steps pounded behind her.
The leaves on the trail were still ankle-deep and slick beneath her moccasins. They caught up with the party just as it started up the far side of the valley. Hundreds of warriors were stretched out ahead of them, moving like ants up the steep incline in the distance. At the top, dark green pines stood like sentinels.
Baji’s gaze lingered on the trees. Wind Woman touched the branches, causing sunlight to flash through the needles.
But there was something … odd.
Glitters. In the sunlit air in front of the pines.
“Oh, dear gods!” she shouted. She broke into a dead run, crying, “Go back! Take cover. Form defensive positions! Run!”
The shining arrows toppled the first twenty men in line, cutting them down like dry blades of grass beneath a chert scythe. The battlefield roared, its distinctive voice striking terror into her heart—a mixture of shrieks, grunts, and wails. The wounded were crawling, trying to make it to the safety of the—
“Baji!” Cord’s heavy body struck her and knocked her to the ground just as arrows cut the air over her head—coming from behind her!
Laughter erupted as enemy warriors flooded from the trees with triumphant grins on their faces. Hills People warriors. She’d seen many of these faces during yesterday’s battle. Atotarho’s men. They let out whoops and dashed for Baji and Cord.
She glanced at Cord. Blood streamed around the arrow that had pierced his right side. “Stay down, Father!”
In one smooth movement, Baji rolled to her feet, drew an arrow from her quiver, nocked it in her bow, and let fly. Her first arrow lanced through the closest man’s heart. She killed two more. The warriors behind them didn’t even slow down. They leaped over the dead bodies and charged Baji.
One arrogant fool cried, “My brothers are hunting down your filthy lover right now. I wanted you to know before I crush your skull!”
As her own men tried to rush to her side, the feathered shafts of Hills People arrows streaked past. Her friends went down, some shot as many as four times.
How did my scouts miss this?