People of the Longhouse(39)

Towa put a hand to his heart and sucked in a fortifying breath. “Blessed Spirits, I thought for a moment he was going to tackle me and rip the gorget from my throat.”

“So did I. He seemed very unhappy that we had been chosen for this task.”

“Well, he does think we’re useless. Maybe he thought the chief would select him. Who knows?”

Sindak pointed to Towa’s wounded arm. “I notice that you removed your sling. I assume that’s so it’s not as obvious that you’re useless.”

“Exactly.”

“You should have left it on. Koracoo and Gonda are going to find out soon enough anyway.”

“Thanks. I feel better.”

They headed toward the gate. By the time they got there, Bostum had removed the locking plank and pulled the heavy gate open wide enough for one person to pass through. Koracoo went first, followed by Gonda, Towa, and lastly, Sindak.

Only the faint whisper of frozen leaves underfoot filled the night as they walked out into the forest.

They’d gone perhaps fifty paces when Koracoo stopped beside a sassafras tree. Clusters of blue fruit clung to the tree branches.

“What’s she doing?” Sindak asked.

Towa shrugged.

Gracefully, Koracoo knelt, reached behind the tree, and pulled CorpseEye from beneath a bed of leaves. The legendary club glowed in the moonlight.

Sindak stared openly and hissed, “There it is. Blessed gods.” He fervently hoped that in the days to come, she would not have an excuse to use it on him.





Sixteen

As they marched up the twisting moon-silvered trail, the air was fragrant with the ghosts of long-dead ferns and rushes. Gonda shivered beneath his cape. With each frigid gust of wind, the trees shook moisture down upon them. The drops sprinkled Koracoo’s hood and shimmered like white beads upon her shoulders. Black spruces and ankle-deep drifts of moldering leaves lined the mountain path. He slogged his way through them behind Koracoo.

Sindak and Towa brought up the rear. His new allies had been quiet for most of the journey, but had started to whisper to each other. It annoyed Gonda. Even barely adequate warriors knew better. A man on the war trail did not speak. He listened for the sounds of the enemy, or wound up with his throat slit. Either by his enemies, or his friends.

The trail curved around a hillock of rounded boulders. As he silently passed, in the night sky high above, he heard the distinctive, lonely honks of geese.

Gonda looked up, trying to see them, and made out a faint chevron of black dots, headed south. Their calls were melodic, soothing.

Sindak said, “A medicine elder told me that geese mate for life. Do you believe that, Towa? I mean, they probably don’t trace descent through the female, right? If women don’t rule the goose world, why would males mate for life?”

“Sindak—”

“Old Kelek also told me that the Flint People build platforms in the marshes for them to nest upon. The geese. Not the Flint People. It makes hunting them much easier. We should do that.”

“Hunt the Flint People?” Towa asked.

“No, the geese, you moron. We already hunt the Flint People.”

Gonda turned and glared at them. They both went silent. They made a strange pair. Towa stood a head taller than Sindak and had broad muscular shoulders. Sindak, on the other hand, was lean and homely. His beaked face and deeply sunken eyes reminded Gonda of a winter-killed hawk that had been drying in the sun for too long. But the youth moved like a warrior. He was agile and catlike, whereas Towa always seemed to be stumbling over something.

Koracoo veered around a wind-piled mound of autumn leaves, and Gonda saw the cornhusk doll clearing. Moonglow sheathed the crooked limbs of the gigantic oaks that fringed the meadow, icing them in white.

“At last,” Gonda said. “Let’s eat something and get to sleep.”

“I agree. Daylight is not far away.”

Gonda trudged into the clearing. He unslung his bow and quiver and set them aside; then he knelt and began scooping aside leaves. Koracoo tied CorpseEye to her belt and crouched to help him.

Sindak and Towa stood looking on as though mystified.

Curtly, Gonda said, “I’ll build the fire if someone else will gather wood. Like you two.”

Sindak scanned the leaf-filled clearing. “Are we camping here? It looks damp. Why don’t we get out of the wet leaves?”

Irritated, Gonda said, “Why don’t you close your mouth and go collect wood?”

Sindak stiffened. Gonda’s tone had obviously offended the youth, but Gonda didn’t care. When Sindak and Towa made no move to obey his order, Gonda rose to his feet to be even more unpleasant … .

Koracoo said, “Sit down, Gonda.”