Towa’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t?”
Gonda took another bite of soup and took his time swallowing it. “Just moments before the attack, two terrified scouts came running into the village, claiming there were over one thousand enemy warriors in the forest.”
“One thousand?”
He gritted his teeth. “I panicked. You wanted to know the truth? That’s it. When the palisade was on fire in fifty places, and I could see them massing for a final assault, I panicked. Their eyes glinted in the starlight. I led half my warriors outside to create a diversion—”
“You disobeyed Koracoo’s orders?”
Gonda hung his head. “At the time, it seemed like the right decision.”
A cold shiver went down Sindak’s spine. Among the People of the Hills the penalty for disobeying your war chief’s orders was death. If he had disobeyed Nesi’s orders and half the village had been slaughtered as a result, Nesi would have paraded Sindak from longhouse to longhouse and allowed those who had lost family members to take out their vengeance on Sindak’s flesh. The pain would have lasted for days.
On the other hand, if Sindak had been in Gonda’s position, looking into hundreds of glinting eyes out in the forest, he might have done the same thing—regardless of the consequences. A desperate man facing overwhelming odds had to believe in his Spirit Helpers. Obviously, Gonda’s had let him down.
Towa said, “What happened to the warriors you led outside? Were they killed?”
Gonda tightened his grip around his cup to still the tremors in his hands. Barely audible, he answered, “A few of us survived.”
Against the firelit background of whirling sleet, Gonda appeared thin and haunted. His round face was worn down to its heavy bones. He couldn’t have seen more than twenty-six or twenty-seven summers, but in the short black hair that covered his ears, scattered filaments of silver caught the light.
Sindak said, “Afterward, you didn’t have enough warriors inside the palisade to defend the village, did you?”
He shook his head. “We were overrun with stunning swiftness.”
Even now, days later, he must still see the tormented faces of his dead friends and relatives. Or was he thinking of his children? Perhaps hearing their last cries?
Sindak said, “So, Koracoo blames you? She thinks that if you’d kept all of your warriors inside the palisade, as she ordered, they might have been able to hold out long enough for her war party to get back and turn the tide of battle?”
Gonda twisted his cup in his hands. “She won’t talk to me about it.”
Sindak didn’t really like Gonda, but he said, “Gonda, if the enemy forces were truly as large as you say, they would have overrun Yellowtail Village anyway.”
A faint roar underlay the keening wind. They all tipped their heads to listen to it. It resonated like the thrumming bass note that seems to linger in the air long after the song is finished, more felt in the bones than heard.
Towa asked, “How many warriors did Koracoo have with her?”
“The same number I had—three hundred.”
“Well, Gonda, if Koracoo’s warriors had returned, they would have suffered the same fate as the men you sent outside. They would have been destroyed. The ending would have been the same.”
Gonda shook himself as though trying not to remember. “Don’t you understand? I sent one hundred men out to face over one thousand enemy warriors. It was … hopeless.”
“You were desperate.”
Gonda turned disbelieving eyes on Towa. “I gave the order, Towa.”
“I’m not trying to anger you, Gonda. It’s just that my people believe a war chief should be a good enough judge of character to know when a man isn’t suited for great responsibility. Nesi would have never put you in that position.”
Sindak shifted slightly to look at Koracoo. He wondered if Towa had not inadvertently hit upon the problem: Koracoo can’t forgive herself for leaving Gonda in charge. Perhaps it isn’t Gonda she distrusts. She’s lost confidence in herself.
Gonda hung his head and shook it. “I was perfectly suited. I’ve done it dozens of times. Koracoo made the right choice in selecting me for the duty. I just … I—I …”
Towa kept glancing down to where Gonda’s hands gripped his cup as though to strangle the life from it.
Gonda smiled weakly. “It’s getting late.”
“I just have one more question,” Towa said. “I don’t know you very well, Gonda, but you have a reputation for valor and brilliance in war. In fact, none of our warriors wishes to face you in battle.”