“No, Towa. I’m just practical. It is one thing to swear it before your chief, but quite another to actually obey an enemy war chief in the midst of battle. But I hope you do … .” She lowered CorpseEye to her side and took a new grip on the shaft. “Because I’ll kill you myself if you don’t.”
Wind swept through the forest and blew smoke into Sindak’s eyes. He turned his head away for a moment, and it gave him time to consider her threat. Koracoo was right to worry that in the heat of battle he might choose to do what he thought best, regardless of her orders. Because he might. These were Standing Stone People. His enemies. He’d been taught that from birth. Not even his chief’s orders could overcome a lifetime of hatred and distrust.
Koracoo seemed to read the tracks of his souls. She walked around the fire and crouched less than three hands from Sindak. He could smell her faint fragrance, a mixture of wood smoke and something spicy, as though she’d washed her cape in water scented with spruce needles. She carefully propped CorpseEye across her lap and said, “Is that true, Sindak? Do you know your duty?”
“I know my duty, War Chief.” He smiled.
She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Good. Now that we understand each other, let’s eat and talk of other things. Please fill your cups.”
Gonda filled his cup, then backed away from the boiling bag. Towa came forward next, filled his cup, and went back to kneel in his former position.
Sindak tied his club to his weapons’ belt and cautiously rose with his eyes still on Koracoo. Her gaze followed him, unblinking, like a lynx watching prey. He went to the bag to fill his cup, then said, “May I fill yours, War Chief?” He extended a hand.
Koracoo slipped her cup from her belt pouch, rose, and walked around the fire to give it to him. He filled it. When he handed it back, their fingers overlapped. Conflicting emotions danced across her beautiful face: suspicion, desperation, determination. They stood side by side, the contact lasting much longer than he’d intended. By the time she pulled her cup from his clenched hand, blood rushed in his ears.
Koracoo turned away. “Eat as much as you can hold. It’s going to be a long day.”
Sindak exhaled the breath he’d unwittingly been holding and walked back to crouch beside Towa. He ate without a word, while Towa blew into his cup and studied Koracoo from the corner of his eye. Her cheeks had flushed. Towa gave Sindak an uncomfortable look.
And Gonda was glaring pure death at him. Who would have guessed that a man’s face could contort like that?
Sindak drank his gruel with one hand on his war club.
Somewhere out in the trees, a hawk shrieked, and the call carried in the stillness.
Koracoo tilted her head to listen, and Sindak had the feeling that she suspected it might not be a hawk, but a warrior’s signal. The hawk called again, and Koracoo relaxed and knelt near Gonda. She propped CorpseEye over her knees and sipped from her cup. Sindak continued listening for a time longer.
After a few more bites, Koracoo said, “Towa, as the chief’s representative, I’m hoping you can help me understand some things.”
Towa lowered his cup. “What things?”
“Your chief’s recent Trading mission seemed foolhardy.”
Towa straightened. “Why?”
“Warfare is rampant throughout our country. Why would your chief take his young daughter with him?”
Towa shrugged. “He loves her. I think he just wanted her close. He often took Zateri with him on trips.”
While she chewed a bite of jerky, Koracoo looked away from them, methodically surveying the oaks. “I find that strange. But then, I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it makes no sense that a chief would risk the life of his daughter for a few bags of pearls and salted seafood. You live in rich lake country. A wise man would have stayed home, eaten lake trout, and worn freshwater pearls until the trails were safer. There must be another reason he undertook the Trade mission.”
Sindak could see the hot blood rushing to Towa’s face, and he understood it. She was either calling their chief a fool or a liar.
In a surprisingly calm voice, Towa answered, “We have more mouths to feed than you do, War Chief. Our people are hungry. Our harvests were poor this autumn. Any village with food is holding onto it with a granite fist. Atotarho knew that the only way he might be able to acquire more food was if he went himself.”
“And he took sixty warriors to make sure the party was safe. Sixty of our best warriors,” Sindak added.
Gonda looked up. “Best? I thought you two were there?”