People of the Longhouse(105)
Scary. Sindak could suddenly see his own boiled eyes staring up at him.
“Well, then, there’s another reason. If he’s planning on murdering me, I’d rather not have him here.”
Gonda laughed softly. “Of course not. Without me to keep watch on you, you’d be free to spend all of your time excitedly following your minuscule erection from one pipe stem to another—”
“Enough.” Koracoo’s eyes narrowed. She glanced back and forth between them for a time before she said, “I’ve made my decision.”
They all fell silent.
She squared her shoulders. “We’re taking the children with us, and leaving long before dawn. I want to be at the river landing just before sunrise.”
“Very well.” Towa nodded.
Sindak had assumed the children would cheer. They did not.
The silence stretched. The children glanced at each other, but there wasn’t even a smile—just a sober realization that tomorrow would carry them right back into Gannajero’s lair.
Only Hehaka reacted. He said, “You’re taking me home?”
Wrenching sadness filled Koracoo’s eyes. “Finish your cups of tea and get to sleep. We must all be well rested.”
The children drained their cups and curled up around the fire without another word.
Koracoo added, “Gonda, take Towa’s guard position. Sindak, I’ll wake you in three hands of time to take my watch.”
“Yes, War Chief.”
Gonda and Koracoo trotted in opposite directions and took up their positions guarding the trail.
Forty-five
Sindak threw another handful of twigs onto the low flames and glanced at Towa. His black eyes and straight nose had a pinched look. He fiddled with the hem of his buckskin cape, creasing it between his fingers.
“You’ve been brooding since we left the warriors’ camp. What’s wrong?”
Towa tilted his head uncertainly. “I’m not sure about this, so don’t fall down and kick your heels in a fit.”
Sindak sat back. “What?”
Towa spread his hands, palms up. “When Gonda and I were lying on the overlook hill waiting for you and Koracoo, I thought I saw … someone … maybe two people … down in that camp.”
“Two people?” The expression on Towa’s face had made Sindak go still. “People you knew?”
Towa rested his hands on his knees. “I’m sure I’m mistaken, all right?”
“You’ve already said that. Who were they?”
Towa grimaced. “Well, the one I really saw looked like Akio. He was—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sindak laughed. “He’s too fat to have waddled this far.”
Towa jerked a nod and let out a breath. “I’m sure I’m wrong.”
“Why would he be here? After Atotarho made the deal with Koracoo, the elders decided not to send out the war party, so there’s no reason—”
A hot tide swelled in Sindak’s veins and rushed through his body. The logical conclusion struck him with the force of a war club to his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t believe it.”
Towa ran a hand through his black hair. “I don’t either. But why else would he be here?”
“Akio?” Sindak hissed incredulously. “The traitor?”
Towa didn’t say anything. He just tossed another clump of twigs onto the tiny blaze to keep it burning. A bed of red coals had built up. It would continue to warm them for a couple of hands of time.
Sindak said, “You said there were two people you recognized. Who was the other?”
Towa ground his teeth for a long moment. His jaw moved beneath his tanned cheek. “He was an old man with gray hair, being carried on a litter by men I did not know. I never saw him step off the litter, but he wore a black cape with white ornaments—maybe circlets of human skull.”
Sindak blinked. “Could you see his face?”
“No, I was too far away.”
“Well, that’s not much evidence then. Many people have black capes with white ornaments.” But Towa had seen Atotarho’s cape many times. He probably would not mistake it, even at a distance. It was a frightening possibility. In the back of Sindak’s thoughts, Gonda’s voice hissed: You actually believe Atotarho sent you along with us to help rescue his daughter. “And even if it’s true, there’s nothing we can do about it tonight.”
“You’re right.”
Towa rose and went to his pack by the tree to pull out his blanket. He threw it over his shoulder and walked back to the fire. After wrapping up in it, he stretched out on his back, but didn’t close his eyes. He stared up at the dark night sky.