People of the Black Sun(8)
“No,” he said, and backed away, moving deeper into the trees. Even though he’d been searching for that pot for more than half his life, he would accept no help from this man.
Sky Messenger must have assumed he was gone, for he petted Gitchi’s head and slowly made his way to a high point overlooking the Flint People’s camp. He gazed longingly at the warriors wrapped in blankets and hides. Beyond the camp, forested hills rolled endlessly to the northern horizon.
Ohsinoh eased through the trees, continuing to watch Sky Messenger. Why had the man offered to help him find the precious pot? They had never been friends.
Sky Messenger bowed his head, heaved a sigh, and seemed to be staring at the ground.
Was he thinking about Baji? Only a few moons ago, she and Sky Messenger had been lovers. Everyone had expected them to marry. For reasons Ohsinoh didn’t understand, it hadn’t happened. Sky Messenger was now betrothed to a fourteen-summers-old woman named Taya. An arranged marriage. Nothing more. Sky Messenger’s sense of honor had to be vying with his need for a woman he’d loved since childhood. Perhaps he was trying to dream a new future—one that could never be.
Ohsinoh silently laughed, his heart returning to the task at hand.
Sky Messenger turned away from the Flint camp and headed back for the firelit stillness of Bur Oak Village, probably seeking shelter from the icy darkness and the soul-rending sounds of the battlefield. Perhaps from his memories of Baji.
If Ohsinoh didn’t hurry, he would miss his chance.
A foot crunched the frost, too close to believe. Finally, the Flint warrior …
“You’re a fool, Ohsinoh.”
Hiyawento’s voice came from his right, less than ten paces away. Panic seared Ohsinoh’s veins. He gripped his evil charm, spread his arms, and slowly turned.
War Chief Hiyawento carried a war club, but had no guards. He stood alone, unmoving, as though a block of sculpted darkness. He was tall, with a narrow beaked face and burning eyes. Black hair blew around his shoulders. Dressed in a worn, knee-length, buckskin cape, he might have been any ordinary warrior, were it not for his stunning presence. It was like a tingling heaviness in the air—the sense a man gets before a cougar leaps upon him from a ledge above. No one who had ever stood before Hiyawento had doubted either his will or his abilities to crush his enemy.
“I’m going to kill you, Hehaka.”
Ohsinoh’s laugh was a little too high pitched. “Have you become a miracle worker, too? Like your demented friend Sky Messenger?”
“He just showed you kindness, and you call him demented?”
“He’s just feeling magnanimous. After all, everyone is whispering his name with reverence. He has become a Spirit creature.”
Hiyawento boldly walked to stand less than three paces from Ohsinoh.
Hiyawento towered over him.
“You gave my daughters the poisoned cornhusk doll, didn’t you?”
Ohsinoh’s chest vibrated with a soundless chuckle. “It wasn’t my idea, you know.”
“Dear gods! They had only seen three and five summers. You coward! Why didn’t you kill me?”
“Were it a personal matter, I would have, Wrass. Unfortunately, it was just a hired task. My instructions were to kill your heart, to take the fire from your words. I did.”
“Was it your father’s idea?” Hiyawento’s grief filled his taut voice.
“Of course. Chief Atotarho fears you. I don’t know why. You’re a pathetic excuse for a war chief. Always sniveling, always voting for peace. Do you know your own warriors despise you?”
Hiyawento’s feet crunched frost as he took another step toward Ohsinoh. “After I kill you, I’m going to kill your father.”
Ohsinoh laughed out loud. “But he has thousands of warriors to protect him, and he’s coming back, you know. You don’t really believe he ran away today, do you?”
“He and his entire army ran off like scared rabbits. I saw him being carried away on a litter.”
Ohsinoh casually propped his fists on his hips. The shell eyes of the charm flashed in the moonlight. “Well, I’m sure Father needed to regroup, to take stock of how many of his forces had survived the battle and to plan his next move. You and your friends are overwhelmingly outnumbered. By the way, how many warriors did you leave at Coldspring Village?”
Hiyawento seemed to freeze.
“My guess is that you left only perhaps one hundred men and women to defend the walls. After all, you had little to fear. At the time, you and your wife, Zateri, were fighting on my father’s side. He’s going to punish you, you know. Treason—”
“We’ll be home soon.”