By the time they reached the palisade, fifty Hills warriors were already assembled outside the main gate with arrows nocked in their bows. War Chief Nesi stood in front. A square-jawed bear of a man, his black headband held his chopped-off hair in place. Of medium height, he was all muscle. Ridges of white scars covered his face. Rather than a bow, he carried a massive stone-headed war club in his fist.
The two Standing Stone warriors came up the trail with their hands in the air. The woman was a tall, hard-eyed beauty. Her short hair was jagged, cut in mourning, and she had a sun-bronzed oval face with large dark eyes. She wore her red cape oddly tied over her belly.
“Blessed gods,” Towa said, “I think that’s Koracoo.”
“It can’t be,” Sindak said disdainfully. “She’s too smart to do something like this.”
The woman called, “We come in peace!”
Sindak frowned at the man. His face, once handsome, looked much older than his jet-black hair would suggest. Battle walks did that, left telltale signs. Wrinkles etched lines across his forehead and cut deeply at the corners of his eyes.
“I think that’s Koracoo’s deputy, Gonda.”
“Her husband? You may be right. I saw him once, five summers ago on my first raid.”
Every eye in the village focused on the Standing Stone warriors. The matrons whispered behind their hands and made the sign against evil to protect them from any Spirits that may have walked the forest trails with the enemy.
Koracoo stopped short. “We must speak with Chief Atotarho.”
Nesi stepped into the path in front of her, blocking her way just outside the palisade. “What message do you carry, War Chief Koracoo?”
Conversation burst out across the village. Everyone knew her name. In the past two summers since she had been elected war chief, she had killed many of their warriors.
Koracoo fearlessly walked up to stare him in the eye. “My words are for the chief’s ears.”
Towa leaned sideways to whisper, “She’s smart. We can’t kill her until we know.”
Sindak’s gaze went over Koracoo. She wore a red cape painted with the image of a blue buffalo. Her full lips were pressed into a tight white line, and her eyes promised death a hundred times over. She seemed to have something hidden in her tied cape.
Chief Atotarho lifted a hand. “Nesi, it’s all right. Bring her to me.”
A path opened through the crowd, and Nesi gestured for Koracoo to walk it. As she did, Gonda started to follow her.
Nesi thrust out his club to block Gonda’s path. “Just her.”
“I am her deputy. I never leave her side.”
Nesi raised his club as though to strike, and ordered, “You will do as I say, warrior. Or I will club you senseless.”
Sindak had to give Gonda credit; he didn’t flinch. He stood his ground and growled, “Get out of my way!”
Atotarho called, “Nesi, let them both approach!”
Nesi glowered at Gonda, but stood aside and allowed him to follow his wife.
Sindak whispered, “She’s magnificent, isn’t she?”
“Hmm?” Towa said absently. He was staring at Gonda. “Who?”
“Koracoo. She’s stunning. Though I’ve heard Nesi say she’s timid, and that’s why she doesn’t go looking for fights to prove her valor. Do you think she’s timid?”
Since Koracoo had become war chief, her village rarely fought, and then only when attacked. That fact had led many Hills warriors to assume she was weak.
Towa replied, “For a timid woman, she’s slaughtered a lot of our best warriors. It’s far more likely that she picks her battles carefully.”
Sindak grunted. Given the choice, he’d rush in with his bow singing and contemplate the repercussions later—an attitude that had gotten him into more than one impossible situation and earned him more than his share of ridicule. “You think much as she does, Towa. Someday, if you ever learn to aim, you may make—”
Koracoo stopped less than two paces from the chief and said, “Chief Atotarho, I have brought a child that needs your help.”
Atotarho glanced at her belly. “What child?”
Gonda untied Koracoo’s cape while Koracoo kept her hands on the bulge in her war shirt. When she gently reached beneath her war shirt and pulled out the naked baby, astonished cries rose from the spectators. People surged forward to look, pushing Towa and Sindak closer.
Atotarho asked, “Who does the child belong to?”
“We don’t know, Chief. We’ve been tracking the war party that stole our children after the Yellowtail Village attack. Along the way, we found this baby, alive, but not well. Her soul is loose. She needs food and shelter immediately.”