“They could travel up past the clan territories, portage across the hills, and follow the Dry Grape River to the Upper Lake. If they paddled hard, traveled light, they could make that crossing before this Water Fox can go all the way around.”
Grizzly Tooth had begun to grin.
By this time, they were close enough to be seen clearly. The man was beginning to frown. “You are not Ilini! Who are you?”
“What would you say if I told you we were Khota?” Wolf of the Dead answered.
The man turned pale. He licked his lips, instinctively trying to backpaddle, his effort impeded by the women, now stopping in confusion. They didn’t seem to realize what was wrong.
“You can’t escape,” Wolf of the Dead told him. “Our canoes are faster.” “You killed my cousin!” the man shouted. “I’ll never help you!”
The women, comprehending at last, simply stared wide-eyed, as if monsters from children’s stories-had appeared before them.
One of the women, Wolf of the Dead realized, was not only young, but very attractive.
“Grizzly Tooth, my friend. Here we find two canoes full of fish, three women, and only three male Ilini dogs to guard them.”
“What do you suggest, my leader?”
Wolf of the Dead rubbed his jaw, aware of the Ilini man’s growing panic. He’d started to paddle frantically. It would be a shame to waste all that fear. “I think, my friend, that we will camp on the beach tonight. We will eat all the fish we can hold, and our beds will be warmed by these women. You and I, of course, will share the young one there. Our other warriors may satisfy themselves on the other two.”
“And the men?” Grizzly Tooth asked.
“They must know a great deal about the territory, the rivers, this portage the woman mentioned. After all, we can’t all be using the women at the same time, can we? While we’re waiting our turns, we’ll see what the men can tell us about this route to catch up with the Water Fox.”
“I’ll tell you nothing!” the Ilini declared, but desperation had crept into his voice.
“We’ll see, camp dog. Khota are good at making people talk.”
The second canoe was fleeing now, aware that something had gone terribly wrong. Two fast Khota war canoes were already heading them off.
Wolf of the Dead stared at the young woman, watching her breasts rise and fall as she began panting with fear. Her dark eyes reflected a growing terror. A trapped fawn had eyes like those.
That night, Wolf of the Dead stuffed himself with fresh-roasted fish. As the driftwood fire crackled, the Ilini men alternately screamed, cried, begged, and whimpered.
Wolf of the Dead considered what he’d learned. They’d have to change their appearance, look more like Ilini and less like Khota. The war shirts had given them away, as had’the style of their hair buns. However, there was a way to cross the thick neck of land by following the rivers and then making a portage.
He could catch the Water Fox on the way to this Roaring Water —and avoid this terrible lake that had drowned most of his warriors.
Grizzly Tooth gasped in delight, his body stiffening. Then he groaned and rolled off the limp Ilini woman to stare up at the stars.
Wolf of the Dead reached down, scooping up more of the flaky white fish meat and stuffing it into his mouth. He stood, walking around Grizzly Tooth’s inert body to stare at the naked young woman.
“Pearl would have fought longer and harder,” he told her as he settled onto her breeze-cooled body. Her eyes had taken on a dull listlessness. The feel of her was enough to excite, but she showed no response to his entry.
He coupled with her absently, his mind on what they’d learned from the dying men. It could be done. Follow the Hummingbird River inland, portage for two days, then follow the Dry Grape River out on the eastern side of the land. There they would find another body of water, Upper Lake, that would take them to the Roaring Water.
One of the men screamed as a burning branch was thrust up his anus.
I’m coming for you, Pearl. How ironic. The Ilini are going to help me catch you. And then, Anhinga bitch, I’ll pay you back in kind for each of my dead warriors.
“What do you think?” Otter asked, watching the sun as it was swallowed by the shining, fiery waters in the west. A glinting flood of golden light spilled out and captured Wave Dancer in its path. The carved cypress wood turned a deep yellow. To the east, smoke—turned amber in the sunset—rose from behind the dunes. That much smoke at this time of year meant people.
Trout had also made it clear as to what sort of people these Badger folk were. Dangerous.
“I say we avoid trouble.” Pearl studied the hazy smoke.