People of the Lakes(331)
Wolf of the Dead stepped out from behind the thick trunk of a maple. “How nice to see you again, wife.1” he slurred. “And what’s this? The Water Fox?” His mocking grin exposed the gap in his teeth. “How happy we are to see all of you!”
Still more warriors emerged from the trees behind them, spreading out like a pack of hungry wolves.
“Who are these people?” Star Shell asked in pidgin. She eyed the newcomers warily. Better the Blue Duck warriors than these … barbarians!
“Khota,” Otter told her. Then: “Catcher, go guard the packs.” The dog looked up in confusion, ears pricked. “You heard me! I said to go guard the packs!”
Catcher whimpered, but he loped away, back toward Wave Dancer, and Otter let out a shuddering sigh. “They’ll kill him first, and I—I couldn’t stand that. I want him to make it out of this … even if we don’t.”
Who were these new enemies? Star Shell had never heard of the Khota. They must live very far away. Then what were they doing here? Had the entire world turned upside down?
Silver Water clutched the Mask pack to her chest. Star Shell lowered a hand to her daughter’s shoulder and bent down.
“Baby, listen to me,” she whispered. “When you get the chance, run. Run as hard as you can. Go into the trees and find a place to hide. I’ll come looking for you when this is over.”
If I can. “Do you understand?”
Silver Water wet her lips and nodded anxiously, her dark, knowing eyes shifting from one warrior to the next. Her panicked fingers tightened on the pack.
Star Shell straightened, only to have a hard hand shove her forward. A man’s voice spoke in pidgin: “Don’t move. I’m right behind you, woman.”
She glanced back at the yellow-shirted warrior. She couldn’t even guess where he and his friends might come from; the accent was too strange.
The one called Wolf of the Dead said something to Pearl.
“I won’t dirty my tongue with your words again, leech. If you want to talk to me, speak in pidgin.” Pearl boldly stepped forward, bracing her feet while she untied the atlatl that hung from her belt. She extended it like a club, gripping it with both hands, waving it about tauntingly. “Let them go, Wolf of the Dead. It’s me you want.‘So here I am. See if you can take me, you filthy Khota slime!”
The Khota grinned and laughed, nodding eagerly.
Pearl smiled back, yelling, “I offer myself—for my friends.
Do you hear that?” She sneered at them. “If you can take me, you can have me! But I make you this wager. Eh, Khota girls’?
You can have me! But you will never beat me into submission.”
. More laughter from the men, some with their heads thrown back.
Pearl laughed, too, a low, threatening sound. “Want to try?
Hmm? I see that gleam in your weaklings’ eyes, Wolf of the Dead. They want me! Let my friends go! Then we will see if your water-souled warriors are up to it. How about you, Round Scar? Do you have any strength left after that tapeworm I fed you?”
The man in question—who stood no more than three paces from Pearl—blinked; then, as realization dawned, he growled, “You did that? You bitch in heat! You—”
Pearl lunged and deftly smacked her atlatl across the side of his head before she danced away to the cheers of the other warriors. Round Scar fell flat on his face and groaned, a hand clasped to the side of his head.
Pearl jeered and leaped sideways, pointing at another man with her weapon, waving it in front of him. “And what of you, Rotten Mouth? How about a little more dogbane in your food?
You’ll spend so much time hanging your butt over a log and shitting that you won’t have time to break me!” Star Shell gave Silver Water a shove, whispered, “Go!” and felt her daughter slip away.
“Pearl!” Otter cried. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up, Otter!” she growled. Then: “Do you hear my challenge, you filthy Khota pigs? Let my friends go, and we’ll see who can outlast who!”
Three of the Khota warriors had begun piling wood ‘ the edge of the trees—enough to make a huge bonfire.
“Pearl, no!” Otter shouted. “Please! Don’t—”
Pearl laughed at the Khota warriors. “I’d have killed Wolf of the Dead the first time if his silly war club hadn’t been made of rotten wood. But it’s the same with all things Khota, isn’t it?
They’re filled with decay, putrid to the core.”
Wolf of the Dead stepped right in front of Pearl, close enough to run a finger down the side of her jaw. “No, woman,” he said in a silken voice. “I think we’ll keep all of you. Take your heads back to the clan grounds. I’ve made my promise to Power.