People of the Masks(174)
Spotted Frog smiled, and walked forward. “We came from Silent Crow Village, my friend. When we saw the fires here, we feared the worst We’ve been shooting flaming arrows for half a hand of time, to tell you we were coming. Didn’t you see them?”
Gull bowed his head, trying to hide the tears that ran down his cheeks. “Yes.” He nodded. “In the mist, we didn’t know what they were. But … yes. Thank you. We owe you our lives.”
Spotted Frog waved the thanks away, and looked at Rumbler and Little Wren, who sat crying with their arms around each other. He said, “Are those the hero children?”
Gull turned. The lines in his forehead deepened. “The boy is the False Face Child from Paint Rock Village. The girl is from Walksalong Village. We do not know her, but her name is Little Wren.”
Spotted Frog’s face slackened with reverence. He waddled toward them.
Sparrow said, “Let’s join them, Dust.”
They gradually made their way across the plaza.
Cornhusk trotted up to join them. Tall, and lanky, his buffalo coat looked even more mangy than the last time they’d seen him. The silver strands in his black hair shone. He grinned, showing his missing front teeth. “Look!” he said. “I saved you again!”
“Really?” Dust lifted a skeptical brow. “Do we have you to thank for this?”
“Well,” Cornhusk said with mock modesty, “I told Spotted Frog and his village the story, but they are the ones who decided to mount a war party to help you. I guided them here, though!”
“Then we are in your debt, Cornhusk,” Dust said. “Thank you.”
Cornhusk bowed, and grinned.
Just before they reached the children, a man staggered from the forest. He had a walking stick propped before him, and wore his hair in the cut of the Thornbush Clan, with the sides shaved and a ridge of hair down the middle of his skull. Blood drenched his left leg.
“Don’t shoot!” he called. “I’m unarmed!”
Spotted Frog gestured to two of his warriors. “Let this warrior join the other captives.”
The young men trotted forward, their bows aimed at the man’s chest, and gestured for him to enter the plaza.
He swung his wounded leg forward stiffly, propping his walking stick as he came. When he saw Jumping Badger’s dead body, and Elk Ivory lying on her back, he gritted his teeth, let out a hoarse roar, and began kicking Jumping Badger with all the might he could muster.
Other Walksalong warriors saw him, and walked forward, escorted by Silent Crow guards. They stood around the body, kicking Jumping Badger, spitting upon him, and cursing him.
The sight made Sparrow feel cold to his bones.
Dust pulled him forward, toward the children. They arrived in time to see Spotted Frog kneel beside Rumbler and Little Wren.
In a gentle voice, the patron asked, “Are you both well? Do you need food or water?”
Rumbler rubbed fists in his wet eyes, and studied Spotted Frog for several moments. He murmured, “Are you the man with the silver gorget shaped like a wolf?”
Spotted Frog straightened, and blinked. He pulled the pendant from his cape. It glimmered in the dwindling firelight. “My great-grandmother gave this to me. How did you know I had—”
“I saw you,” Rumbler said. “In a Dream. You had a hundred Spirit Helpers crowding behind your shoulders.”
Spotted Frog’s warriors glanced at each other, and looked upon their leader with new awe.
Spotted Frog smiled. “Well, I am glad to know that. Thank you.”
Sparrow tightened his hold around Dust Moon’s shoulders, and said, “I can’t tell you how glad we are to see you, Spotted Frog.”
Spotted Frog grunted to his feet, and glanced fondly at them. “For a time, I feared we weren’t going to arrive soon enough. Cornhusk lost the trail.”
The Trader shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and shrugged. “Well, I found it again after we lit torches, Patron. In this mist, no one—”
“At any rate,” Spotted Frog said. “We made it.”
The patron lowered his gaze to Rumbler and Wren, and his brows drew together. “What will happen to the children now? Will you take them?”
Dust tightened her arm around Sparrow’s waist. “Yes,” she answered. “Though I don’t know where we will go. Wren betrayed her people by stealing Rumbler. She can’t go home, and I—”
“I do,” Wren whispered. She got on her knees, and stood up, wincing as if every rib in her body had been broken. “We need to go north.”
Rumbler rose beside her, and tucked his hand into her palm. When he looked at her, his eyes shone like stars.