People of the Longhouse(93)
Sindak frowned. “Are you sure it’s not another village?”
Koracoo said, “It’s a warriors’ camp.”
Towa shook sweat-soaked hair out of dark eyes and said, “We lost the children’s trail two hands of time ago when it was obliterated by thousands of footprints, but it was heading right for this village. Do you think Gannajero was bringing the children here to meet the victorious warriors?”
Gonda’s knees trembled. Don’t think about it. He stiffened his muscles to still them and replied, “Victorious warriors always have plunder in their packs. That’s why Traders follow war parties. If I—”
Koracoo interrupted him. “Let’s stop talking and find out.”
She loped toward the orange gleam. Gonda, Sindak, and Towa fell into line behind her.
Thirty-eight
In the middle of the night, Wrass lifted his head and looked around. There was only one guard, Tenshu. The warrior had his back to Wrass, watching Gannajero and Kotin. The old woman stood thirty paces from her fire. In her ratty buckskin cape and long black wig, she looked so much like a toothless old man, it astonished him. She was haggling with an ugly little Flint warrior and gesturing to the new children. She’d selected five. They sat in a group, roped together, crying. Gannajero kept shouting and shaking her head. Kotin, who stood at her side, held his war club in a tight grip. No one was sitting around her fire. The pot stood unwatched.
Wrass studied Tenshu from the corner of his eye. Gannajero must have figured that Hehaka, two girls, and an injured boy wouldn’t be a problem for one trained warrior. He glanced at Hehaka, Tutelo, and Baji. Despite the noise and shouts, they slept soundly eight hands away. His gaze moved over Hehaka, to the girls. They were pretty. Especially Baji. She was lying on her back. A dark halo of long black hair spread around her face. In another time and place, he might have asked his grandmother if he could …
Grandmother’s dead.
Tenshu chuckled softly, apparently amused by Gannajero’s contorted face and waving sticklike arms.
Wrass slid over and pulled the bag from Baji’s legging. She was so tired, she didn’t even move. He tucked it into his moccasin and rolled onto his hands and knees. The pain in his head almost flattened him. He closed his eyes for several moments and concentrated on breathing in the cold night air. It took all his strength to stifle the urge to vomit. When he felt a little better, he reached for a rock twice the size of his fist and clutched it in his hand as he rose to his feet.
As quiet as morning mist, he sneaked up behind Tenshu, who was laughing out loud now … and slammed the rock into the back of his skull. The warrior let out a surprised grunt. When he whirled, Wrass hit him in the temple as hard as he could. Tenshu staggered, trying to swing his war club at Wrass, but his arms had no strength. Wrass slammed the rock right into Tenshu’s forehead.
Tenshu staggered backward, then dropped to his knees. Wrass hit him over and over, until he heard the man’s skull crack. Wrass stopped only when Tenshu collapsed facefirst to the ground and his limbs started violently twitching and jerking.
Baji, Hehaka, and Tutelo scrambled up and were staring at Wrass with wide eyes. Tutelo started to cry, or scream, but Baji clamped a hard hand over her mouth and hissed, “Quiet, Tutelo! Be quiet.”
Hehaka was watching with wide luminous eyes, as though he couldn’t believe that anyone could kill one of Gannajero’s men.
Wrass tossed the rock aside and wiped his bloody hand on his cape. When he’d managed to stiffen his legs and stand up straight, he said to Baji, “Run.”
“What?” she said in confusion.
“Run. Now. All of you. Don’t stop. By dawn there will be so many tracks leading out of here, they’ll never be able to track you.”
“But I—” Baji reached for the bag in her legging. “Where’s my bag? I’m the one—”
“I’ll do it. Now, for the sake of the gods, go.”
Baji grabbed Tutelo’s hand and lunged to her feet.
Hehaka rose unsteadily beside them. “But … where will we go? Who will feed us?”
Wrass’ eyes narrowed. Was the boy totally unable to care for himself? “Baji will help you.”
Tutelo struggled against Baji’s grip, crying, “But where’s Odion? I can’t leave without Odion! Where’s my brother?”
“I’ll wait for Odion. You have to go, Tutelo,” Wrass said. “Hurry. I’ll take care of Gannajero and her men, kill them all, right down to the last breath in my body. But you have to save yourselves or it will mean nothing. Do you understand? My life for yours. That’s the Trade. Now, please, get out of here before I lose my nerve.”