“I would,” Sun Conch volunteered. “It’s closer to the trail, and being but little wider than a person, the victim has less time to react when the attacker steps out from behind cover. Not only that, the victim would let his guard down after having topped the ridge and determined the way was clear.”
“You’re learning.” Panther approached the walnut and studied the relationship between the tree and the trail. “Sun Conch, come here. Pretend you are going to ambush Nine Killer. War Chief, you’re a little shorter than Red Knot was, but I want you to drop over the crest of the ridge, and then act as if you were Red Knot crossing toward Oyster Shell Landing. Can you do that?”
Nine Killer gave him a skeptical shrug and trotted past the beech and over the edge.
“Now, Sun Conch, you know she is coming, so hide yourself and ambush him in the most logical way.” Panther stepped back, watching.
Nine Killer climbed up to the crest, couldn’t help but glance around the beech tree, and then trotted across the ridge. Panther noted the sounds as his moccasins rustled the leaves. When Nine Killer passed, the walnut tree was no more than two paces on his right. It wasn’t until he was past that Sun Conch stepped out and mimicked bashing him on the head.
“Hold!” Panther came forward, studying the situation. “Where was the blood spot, War Chief?”
Nine Killer frowned, and glanced about. “A step or two behind me.”
Panther pulled thoughtfully at his chin. “Sun Conch and I would have struck you right where you stand, War Chief, As Sun Conch just pretended, she would have bashed you right in the top of the skull. From the momentum of the blow, the knees would have buckled, and you would have fallen on your face. The bloodstain would have been at least a pace in front of you.”
Nine Killer turned around, seeing where Sun Conch stood, how she held her club. “I see what you mean. So, if the bloodstain is back there …”
“Indeed.” Panther rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it again, but this time, Sun Conch, I want you to step out from behind the tree just before he passes.”
Once again, Nine Killer retraced Red Knot’s path across the ridge. This time as the rustle of Nine Killer’s trotting moccasins came close, Sun ConcTi stepped out from behind the tree, war club raised.
Nine Killer came to an immediate stop.
“Hold still, right there.” Panther stepped forward, comparing where Nine Killer stood and where he said the bloodstain had been. “Now, step out, Sun Conch. Just one step, as if you were talking to him. That’s it.”
Sun Conch closed the distance.
“Now,” Panther said quietly, “strike him dead.”
Sun Conch swung the war club slowly through its arc, the deadly stone-weighted end reaching just past Nine Killer’s head.
“Close enough,” Nine Killer said. “And, if Sun Conch were truly talking to me as she stepped out, I would have turned, thus.” He faced Sun Conch, the extended war club next to the left side of his head.
“If Sun Conch were to strike you down, the blow would pop your head to the right, setting you off balance as your knees buckled. You’d fall in .a heap …”
“Right where the bloodstain was.” Nine Killer stared down speculatively at the leaf mat as though seeing it again in his mind: fresh and red. “So she did know the killer. He stepped out and said something to her. Then struck before she could react.” “Only someone Red Knot trusted could have walked that close to her.” Panther dropped to his haunches, picking through the leaves.
“You won’t find any blood, Elder,” Sun Conch said. “With the rain and storms, it’s long washed away.”
“Oh, I know.” Panther continued lifting the leaves away and brushing his fingers over the ground. “Here, let’s sift this anyway. It would surprise me if we found anything, but perhaps Red Knot had something in her hand besides the shark-tooth necklace.”
As they picked through the leaves, Nine Killer said thoughtfully, “She expected to meet High Fox, so he would have… What’s this?” Nine Killer lifted a small wedge-shaped chunk of wood and held it up to the light. It was no longer than a thumbnail; one side had been rounded, obviously carved and polished. The wedge shape came from the fact that it was broken, splintered off of a larger piece of wood.
Panther settled next to him, taking the piece. “Well, if I was a guessing man, I’d say that was hickory wood, War Chief. And part of a tool. That rounded side was worked.”
Nine Killer examined the grainy side where it had broken off. “And not so recently, Elder. Look. The worked side is dark, stained. Where it broke, the wood is light, as if freshly cracked.”