People of the Longhouse(44)

Tutelo looks from Wrass, to the guards, and back to me, and sobs, “Odion? Let’s run away! Hurry. Let’s run!”

I glance around at the warriors, and my throat closes up. I lean close to her ear to whisper. “Soon. But not now. Not now!”





Eighteen

Just before dawn, Koracoo rolled over, shook Gonda’s shoulder, and whispered, “It’s time. Let’s rise.”

Exhausted, shivering with cold, Gonda heaved a sigh and sat up. The frost-coated clearing glittered with the first blue rays of dawn. Beneath the oak trees, ten paces away, the sleeping body of Sindak made a dark hump. The sight surprised Gonda. Sindak must have moved out into the trees in the middle of the night, but Gonda hadn’t heard a thing. Towa stood a short distance from where Sindak slept, watching the trail.

As Gonda stumbled to his feet, he whispered, “Will you wake Sindak, or should I?”

“Let’s get the fire built and heat up the leftover cornmeal gruel from last night. I suspect with all of our clattering, he will wake himself. Or Towa will wake him.”

Gonda reached down, picked up his weapons’ belt, and tied it around his waist. It was colder this morning, and he thought he caught the fragrance of snow on the breeze. Cloud People sailed the heavens.

He walked to the fire pit and grabbed a stick from the branch pile they’d collected last night. “The first thing this morning, we should clarify their duties with our new allies.”

“I thought you did that last night.”

Sheepishly, he said, “Did you hear that?”

“Most of it. You sounded like an idiot.”

Gonda glanced over at Sindak. “I was defending your honor, my former wife. And I wasn’t the only idiot there. Sindak is impulsive. He’s the one most likely to act on instinct without thinking first. He reminds me of me at his age.”

Koracoo pushed short black hair behind her ears. “I remember. You were reckless.”

“I was young.” Gonda used his stick to stir the ashes from last night’s fire. It took twenty heartbeats to separate out the warm coals and pile them in the center of the pit. As he began laying twigs over the coals, he softly said, “Did you get any sleep?”

She knelt across the fire pit from him. Her face looked haggard, her dark eyes dull. “Not much. Towa and I stared at each other for most of the night. He’s the cautious one.”

The sound of their voices woke Sindak. He sat up and stretched, then turned to look at Towa. Towa had worn his deerhide sling while he stood watch to keep his wounded arm from shifting. Towa whispered something to Sindak, who yawned and nodded.

Koracoo’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“While I was staring at Towa last night, I had time to think about them.”

“About Sindak? Or Towa?” He bent over and blew on the coals until the twigs caught and flames burst to life. He added more twigs, then lifted the tripod with the boiling bag and moved it closer.

“About Sindak, Towa, and Atotarho,” she replied. “I still don’t know why he chose these two. They are not physically suited to the task. Because of his injuries, Towa is not a reliable fighter. And they are friends—probably best friends. That means that when Towa gets in trouble—and that will be very soon into the fight—Sindak will forget his responsibilities and concentrate on protecting his friend.”

“Leaving you and me to rescue the children.” Gonda added a branch to the fire and watched the flames leap around the new tinder. Sparks flitted into the deep blue predawn sky. “If you’re right, what are we going to do about it?”

“Plan ahead, prepare for when it happens.”

“Then you’d better threaten them thoroughly to start with.”

“I plan to.”

Gonda pulled two sticks from the woodpile and reached into the boiling bag to remove the cobble, which he placed at the edge of the flames to heat.

Then he turned to watch the two young warriors. Towa winced as he removed his sling, picked up his quiver, and slung it over his shoulder. Sindak was speaking softly to him while he adjusted his weapons’ belt. Towa’s braid hung down the back of his elkhide cape. Though he had a handsome face, Gonda decided it was slightly feminine. His eyelashes were too long and his chin too pointed. Sindak, on the other hand, kept his right hand propped on the hilt of his belted war club. That told Gonda a good deal about him.

Gonda added two more branches to the fire—enough wood that the flames crackled. When he looked back at Koracoo, he could see the thoughts roiling behind her eyes. They had known each other long enough that they often entertained the same thoughts, and he suspected he knew what was bothering her. “So. What conclusions did you arrive at? How much of Atotarho’s story did you decide you believe?”