People of the Black Sun(71)

Hiyawento rested his hand on his belted war club. The quartzite cobble felt cold beneath his palm. “Why do you think it was Mountain People?”

Towa exhaled hard and looked at Hiyawento. “I passed through the Mountain People villages first, and they were much worse off than the Landing villages.”

“In what way?”

“They were so sick they hadn’t been able to harvest their fields. Most of their crops had withered and were eaten by animals. They were starving. They had nothing to Trade, not even a single kernel of corn. War Chief Yenda had just been named Chief of Wenisa Village. After he underwent the Requickening ritual, he flew into a tirade, blaming the Landing People for the fever and every other misfortune.”

“I heard he’d been made chief. So he’s Chief Wenisa now?”

“Yes. I left as soon as I could, praying I’d make it to the Landing villages while they were still standing.”

“And you found them sick, too?”

Towa’s mouth twisted. “Yes. Sick and desperate. Several people offered to Trade me their only blankets for what little food I carried in my pack. I refused the blankets and gave them everything I had, but it wasn’t much. Blessed Ancestors, it was a terrible sight.”

In the distance, Hiyawento could make out the vague form of the next Landing village, Shookas Village, the principal village of the Landing nation. The intact log palisade stood out in stark contrast to the blackened hills. He wondered what they would find there.

Wind Woman gusted over the hilltop, flapping Hiyawento’s cape around his legs. “Sky Messenger would have headed straight to Shookas Village. If all went well, he should arrive tomorrow.”

“Then we should hurry. If we get there before him, and there’s any elder left to speak with, we can prepare the way for him.”

Towa clapped Hiyawento on the shoulder, and broke into a shambling trot, heading down the hill through stark blackened trees that seemed to go on forever.





Twenty-four

“It will take just a few moments,” Zateri said. “Kwahseti and Gwinodje are lodging in the Snipe Clan longhouse. It’s all the way across the village.”

“Matron Yi told me to wait, so it doesn’t matter how long it takes, but I thank you for informing me.”

Of average height, handsome, and somewhat boyish, Hikatoo had a reputation for being a fine singer. Zateri recalled the richness of his deep voice last summer at the green corn ceremony. He’d seen perhaps thirty summers, and spent the past three as one of her father’s personal guards. She found it curious that Yi would choose this man as her messenger. He wasn’t Wolf Clan, and though he was known as a reliable and courteous man, Zateri was certain to distrust him … which she did. He kept toying with his left arm, cradling it against his belly, then lowering it, only to pull it across his belly again.

“I heard you were wounded at the White Dog Village battle,” Zateri said.

“It’s nothing, Matron. The arrow skewered my upper arm. It’s healing cleanly.”

“I’m glad. We have lost far too many good warriors already.”

He gave her a half-smile, perhaps wondering at her usage of the word “we.”

Zateri looked away. The Wolf Clan longhouse in Canassatego Village had suffered during the recent attack. Charred holes gaped in the roof. Hastily covered with slabs of bark, none quite fit. Twilight seeped around the edges, creating a patchwork of luminous ovals. As many people as possible had been crowded into the forty chambers, so that the longhouse seemed to be bursting at the seams with humanity. Twenty fires glittered down the central aisle. People stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the warmth.

“May I dip you a cup of tea, Hikatoo?”

“That’s kind of you. I would appreciate it, Matron. Thank you.”

The sweet fragrance of dried cherries wafted around Zateri’s flat face as she dipped a cup of tea from the soot-coated pot hanging on the tripod at the edge of the flames, and handed it to Hikatoo. She thought his buckskin cape had black snipes painted across the middle, but the soot of countless campfires obscured the designs. “You are Snipe Clan, aren’t you?”

He bowed slightly. “I am, Matron.”

“I know it must have been a dangerous trip, and you had no idea what sort of reception you would receive when you arrived here. Thank you for taking the risk.”

“Since my injury, I am not of much use in the fighting, so I go where my elders send me, Matron.” Hikatoo sipped the cherry tea and a smile came to his lips. “This is wonderful. We’ve eaten all the dried cherries at Atotarho Village. This is a special treat.”