People of the Masks(137)
The thought comforted Cornhusk.
“I’m also worried about something else,” Spotted Frog murmured, clearly not wishing to be overheard.
“And that is?”
“I don’t know how to fight Lamedeer.”
“That is a concern, I agree, but if I were you I would be more worried about the number of warriors Jumping Badger has.”
Spotted Frog swirled his tea in his cup. “Warriors, my dear friend, can be killed. How do I fight a desperate ghost? Lamedeer was one of my relatives. I am fearful that when we catch up with Jumping Badger’s war party, Lamedeer may take out his vengeance upon us.”
Cornhusk lifted his cup and drank, then wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his mangy buffalo coat. “If you can get the head back and care for it, clean it and massage it with oil—”
“Yes, perhaps my uncle’s cousin’s son would forgive us if we put his ghost to rest, but we cannot do that until after the battle. How will I fight him during the battle? Or before? What if Lamedeer foresees our coming, and tells Jumping Badger? He could set up a devastating ambush.”
The scent of roasting fish and cooking ash cakes wafted toward Cornhusk. He inhaled deeply, before answering, “Too bad we don’t know a good soul-flying witch. She could fly to Lamedeer’s head, and tell Lamedeer that we are coming to rescue him as well as the children and Blue Raven.”
Spotted Frog’s brows lifted. “I know some witches to the south, down around Going Wolf village, but I know of none in these northern territories.”
“Perhaps the patron at Sleeping Mist will know someone. Witches cost a fortune, but—”
“Before we left,” Spotted Frog said, a fond gleam in his eyes, “Pup Woman told me to save the heroic children and the Walksalong Headman even if it cost the wealth of our entire village.”
“Admirable,” Cornhusk said with due reverence, “but witches are even more distrustful than Traders. They demand instant payment. How much did you bring with you?”
Spotted Frog’s lips tightened. “Some.”
“Some?”
“Enough, I think. Pup Woman tried to plan for all possible needs.”
Cornhusk drummed his fingers on the side of his cup. “You don’t trust me, do you, Spotted Frog?”
He smiled, and watched Flying Skeleton as the skinny man walked out of the trees and back into camp.
Cornhusk said, “You could save yourself a good deal if we knew where Silver Sparrow was. He soul-flies. And he hates Jumping Badger. He’d probably do it without charging you a single copper bead.”
“Yes.” Spotted Frog sighed. “I regret that we didn’t have time to send a runner to Earth Thunderer Village, but—”
“I’m not certain he went home.”
Spotted Frog turned. His mouth slowly opened. “Do you think he and Dust Moon decided to try and track down the False Face Child?”
Cornhusk blew on his tea, and frowned at the tiny whirlwinds of steam that rose. “What would you do if a child you loved was on the run from a horde of vicious warriors?”
Spotted Frog grimaced at the fire.
Flying Skeleton knelt before the ash cakes. A stack of bowls and spoons rested near the fire pit. Flying Skeleton took a spoon and lifted several ash cakes into a bowl, then rose to his feet, and walked toward Spotted Frog. The man reminded Cornhusk of a very tall weasel.
Cornhusk said, “I realize you do not trust me, but—”
“I did not say that.”
Flying Skeleton handed Spotted Frog the bowl. “The fish will be done soon. Do you require more tea?”
“Yes, thank you, Flying Skeleton.” He handed the man his empty cup, and Flying Skeleton returned to the fire pit.
Spotted Frog bit into an ash cake and a look of pleasure spread across his fat face. “Here,” he said and held out the bowl. “Try one of these.”
“Gracious of you to offer.” Cornhusk took one. Made of acorn flour mixed with roasted marsh-elder seeds, the cakes melted in his mouth. “Delicious. Truly, your people are master cooks and brewers.” He added, “Even if you don’t trust me.”
Spotted Frog smiled. “Cornhusk, my friend, I trust you as much as any Trader.”
Cornhusk thought about that, then sighed.
Flakes of snow drifted out of the sky, frosting the trees, and sizzling on the hearthstones.
Cornhusk shielded his eyes and looked up. “There’s a storm pushing down from the north. We had better prepare for a long day tomorrow, too.”
Spotted Frog finished his ash cake and wiped his hands on the hem of his cape. “I pray it snows heavily, and for many days straight.”
“And covers each moccasin print the children and Blue Raven leave?”