People of the Black Sun(5)
“It is for me. You are an old ally, but you were under no obligation to come to our aid. Our Peoples have been at war, off and on, for generations. It could not have been easy for you to convince your Ruling Council to send warriors to support us, and I have no words for the gratitude in my heart.”
His handsome face showed no emotion, but his dark eyes probed hers. “I’m just sorry it took so long. If we’d arrived a few hands of time earlier, more of your people would have survived.”
“Would they?” Jigonsaseh tilted her head uncertainly. “It seems to me you arrived at exactly the instant Power demanded.”
“Yes,” he mused, his eyes suddenly distant, seeing the battle again. “That was odd, wasn’t it? We had been in the fight for only a short time when the freak storm swept over the horizon. I’ve never witnessed anything like it before.”
“Nor have I.”
On the fabric of her souls, she saw Sky Messenger turn to face Elder Brother Sun, lift his hands, and felt the air sucked from the battlefield. A deep-throated rumble echoed to the east, then a black wall of clouds roared over the horizon. Only Sky Messenger dared to face the storm. He’d clutched his best friend’s, War Chief Hiyawento’s, daughter to his chest, protecting her … and the storm had passed over them, leaving them, untouched.
Cord said, “Dekanawida has become a living legend.” He gestured to something behind her. “I noticed he has spent the past hand of time walking the battlefield alone. Is he as stunned as everyone else by the rumors racing through the war camps?”
She glanced over her shoulder, and spotted her son, Sky Messenger, on the far eastern edge of the forest with his head down. He must be lonely and, she suspected, confused, trying to make sense of the day. “I suspect so.”
“Has he said anything to you about the miracle?”
“What could he say, Cord? I don’t think he knows yet how to interpret the storm.”
Cord made an airy gesture with his hand. “I’m sure my warriors add to his difficulty. They are awestruck. They believe he called the storm, and say he is the legendary human False Face prophesied to don the cape of white clouds and ride the winds of destruction at the end of the world.” He looked back at her with slightly narrowed eyes, as though it hurt to look at her. “Do you believe it?”
She hesitated. “I believe his Dream. As to the source of the storm, I fear to offer an opinion. The implications…”
Blood-scented wind swept over them, flapping Cord’s black cape around his long legs, and jingling the turtle shell ornaments. For two old war chiefs, bloody wind was as familiar as the feel of a war club in their hands. Nonetheless, she saw his fingers clench, and she knew he was holding on to life, cherishing the breath moving in his lungs.
Unwisely, she reached out to place a hand upon his shoulder. Something about the softness of his expression built a warmth in her heart. She longed to stay, to sip a cup of tea and talk of old times with him, but feared where it would lead. “I have duties to attend to. I must go, Cord. I thank you for your kindness.”
As she rose to her feet, she tucked CorpseEye back into her belt.
His jaw clamped, as though making some decision.
“Wait. Please?” he said.
He stood up and swiftly pulled her into his embrace. For a time, she let herself drown in the sensation of being held. It had been a long time since she’d allowed a man to hold her. She was aware of the softness of his worn cape and the rhythmic pulse of his breath against her throat.
She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him hard against her. They stood like that, clutching each other for long enough that CorpseEye’s quartzite cobble head felt like it might break her ribs. The camp went silent again.
Finally, she pushed away, and said, “Very dangerous, Chief Cord. There are those among your own People who would consider this consorting with the enemy.”
“I’ve faced danger before. I’ll risk it.”
As they gazed at each other, a connection grew between them. Like a rope being stretched tight, the fibers strained, about to fray and break loose. As his smile faded, conflicting emotions danced across his handsome face.
“Cord, I’m sorry that we can’t—”
“It’s not impossible.” He clenched his fists at his sides, as though struggling against his own impotence. “Join my people. Please present the possibility to your Ruling Council. Let them decide. That way no one could ever accuse you of suggesting it as a way to further your personal interests.” He paused. “That is, providing you think it would be in your personal interest to share your life with me.”