People of the Black Sun(36)
Jigonsaseh said, “If you don’t wish to shift workers, perhaps we could organize the youngest children to fill water jars.”
Kittle didn’t answer. Her thoughts seemed far away.
“Did you hear me?”
Kittle blinked. “Don’t you think it’s odd that none of the surrounding villages have sent runners to inquire about our welfare? They must have seen the smoke from our burning villages yesterday morning. At least a few runners should have arrived by dawn today.”
“Perhaps they fear Atotarho’s army is still here.”
“Nonsense. Any responsible matron would have sent at least one man to sneak in, take a look, and hightail it home with the news. Don’t they care if we’re alive or dead?”
“Perhaps they are more afraid of being attacked themselves, and are keeping every warrior inside their palisade walls.”
Kittle fumbled with her shell bracelets, rearranging them. They clicked. “But we also haven’t seen that odious little Trader, Tagosah. He’s always here showing off his latest trinkets around the first day of the moon. He’s never late.”
“Rarely late. Not never. Don’t exaggerate.”
Jigonsaseh studied the warriors on the catwalk. Their gazes were fixed on the scouts who stood in the tallest trees, searching for threats. No alarm had been given. They hadn’t even signaled that a lone passerby approached.
“There’s another thing I wish for you to consider, Kittle. Once everyone has cleared out of Yellowtail Village, we should dismantle it. We need stronger logs for the interior palisades, and we must build more housing in Bur Oak Village. More important, we don’t want our enemies to capture it.”
Kittle heaved a breath. “You’re right. The last thing we need is to have Hills warriors lining the palisade of Yellowtail Village and shooting into Bur Oak Village. Very well, I will leave it to you to tear down your own village.”
A strange silence caught her attention. Her right hand unconsciously tightened around CorpseEye while she searched the longhouse roofs and leafless branches of the surrounding trees. “There are no birds.”
“Hmm? What?” Kittle stared at Jigonsaseh as though her soul were loose.
Jigonsaseh’s senses abruptly sharpened, focused on sound, and sound alone. She sifted out the village noise, and let her attention drift beyond the walls of the palisade. No dove calls. No finch chirps. There was no flutter of panicked wings in the air.
Because they’d already burst into flight or taken cover.
Any decent warrior knew to stop and listen when animals started warning one another. The fact that she’d barely noticed the flock of panicked jays spoke to the gravity of her morning.
The warriors on the catwalk stirred. Two men ran to the side overlooking Reed Marsh, and a clipped conversation broke out.
The scouts in the trees.
Panicked cries rose from the marsh.
Kittle looked up. “What’s happening?”
As Jigonsaseh started to back away, to run for the catwalk, she said. “Get everyone inside the palisade.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!”
Jigonsaseh ran hard for the nearest ladder. Hundreds of arrows leaned against the palisade wall behind the ladder, along with pots of water, wooden drinking cups, and bags of jerky to be used only by warriors protecting the village.
In the plaza below, Kittle shouted at two young men, “Tell everyone in Yellowtail Village to grab what they can, and get inside our palisades immediately!”
“Yes, High Matron.” They dashed away.
Just as Jigonsaseh set foot upon the catwalk, cries came from the warriors in the field to the north … then more came from the south. A corresponding roar went up from the warriors on the catwalk, and they started charging around, scrambling for a better position.
“Matron?” War Chief Wampa called. “Our lines are falling back! War Chief Deru must have ordered them to flee!”
Jigonsaseh leaned on the palisade to survey the situation. To the north, over the top of Yellowtail Village, she caught glimpses of warriors fleeing through the trees. The northern line had broken and warriors sprinted for Bur Oak Village like terrified mice with a mountain lion bounding behind them.
Jigonsaseh strode for the knot of warriors who stood gaping, their gazes leveled on the grassy plain to the west, beyond Reed Marsh. Several gestured wildly with their arms.
“Where is the enemy? Show me.”
Wampa used her bow to point. “Look at the tree line, Matron, just out of bow range. They just appeared.”
Jigonsaseh scanned the weave of trunks and brush with a practiced eye. Barely visible, enemy warriors casually lined out, as though they had all the time in the world to get into position. She swung around. “War Chief Wampa, dispatch teams to gather arrows and stack them on the catwalk. After that, not a single warrior leaves his or her position without my permission. Do you understand? Keep the gates open until the Yellowtail Villagers are inside, then open it only as necessary for our retreating warriors to enter.”