People of the Mist(13)

Ideas raced through his head as he trotted up the ridge trail ahead of four warriors. Life in Flat Pearl Village reminded him of dancing on a spiderweb. One had to move one’s feet quickly, lest they become stuck. Balance was a precarious thing at best. Even flailing around could leave one entwined for whatever spider lurked in the shadows.

Fortunately for Flat Pearl, and Greenstone Clan, Hunting Hawk had always been a nimble dancer. Her keen mind had kept the territory between Oyster Inlet and Duck Creek autonomous. That the Independent villages often accomplished their goals through manipulation, military prowess, and intimidation was of no concern to anyone: the final arbiter was survival.

But now the Independent villages lay like an un cracked nut between three stones. To the south, the Ma manatowick, Water Snake, brooded and schemed, forever seeking to extend his influence over the Independent villages, while in the north, across the Fish River, the Tayac, Stone Frog, had strengthened what had been a weak coalition of Conoy villages into a strong confederacy.

In the west, Copper Thunder was the new element. Less than ten Comings of the Leaves ago, he had arrived in the upriver villages to the west. His mother, a woman of the Pipestone Clan, had married a Trader, and followed him off to the wealthy chieftainships inland. Copper Thunder had been born there, raised on the great rivers; and he told stories of fabulous cities, and stupendous temple buildings atop man-made mountains that gleamed under the sun.

Such stories stretched Nine Killer’s credulity, but so many of the Traders insisted that such marvelous chieftainships existed that a kernel of truth must lie within.

Copper Thunder had returned to his mother’s people as a young man—and such a man: his face was tattooed in a peculiar fashion, as if his eyes looked out of two swallowtails. He carried a fearsome war club inset with a nasty copper blade. The spider gorget he wore was said to belong to some secret society of warriors who served the Serpent Chiefs. Others said he knew strange ways, that he spoke to alien gods, and enchanted evil spirits to his will.

All of these things might be true, for he had welded the squabbling upriver clans into a cohesive alliance for the first time in the memory of men. With them at his back, he’d managed to defeat first Stone Frog” and then Water Snake.

Both battles had been won with inferior numbers of warriors, and had inflicted great losses on the larger forces. And now the Great Tayac, as Copper Thunder styled himself, sat astride the most important trade route to the interior. Along that line flowed all the copper, chert, and rhyolite for tools, fine fabrics, dyes, and steatite for pipes and bowls. That lonesome young man had collected an amazing amount of prestige, authority, and power. His strength seemed to be growing by the year. Many now said there was no way to stop him.

But is that true? Nine Killer listened to the shouts of his men echoing through the forest, and considered what sort of man it took to accomplish such a thing.

Copper Thunder was more than just a long-lost kinsman of the Pipestone Clan. He had some other quality, something that set him above other men. Whatever it was, it differed from the proclaimed deity of men like Water Snake, who believed himself to be part god. In all the times Nine Killer had dealt with the Mamanatowick, he’d always known instinctively that he dealt with another man—albeit a powerful one.

Copper Thunder was a different matter. Nine Killer need but look into those eyes and his soul shivered. People said that the Great Tayac carried a powerful amulet, a tablet engraved with the image of a creature part bird, part man, and part snake—and whispered that it made him invincible.

Nine Killer tightened his grip on his bow, reassured by the resilient wood. He’d made the weapon himself, carved it from the fire-hardened branch of a hickory tree. Of all the warriors he’d met, only five had been able to draw it to full arc. With it, Nine Killer could drive an arrow clear through an enemy warrior’s oak shield and into his body—no matter what intrigues good or bad spirits might contrive.

He had been thinking about this new alliance between Hunting Hawk and Copper Thunder. As War Chief, who wouldn’t? After all, he would have to bear the brunt of Water Snake and Stone Frog’s rage.

Things were changing. The old, ordered ways had crumbled, largely because of the arrival of Copper Thunder. Were it not for him, and the expansion of the upriver clans, things might have stayed pretty much the same around the great Salt Water Bay. But, like Okeus after the Creation, Copper Thunder had brought chaos to the country. Those three stones were closing in on the Independent villages, grinding away with ever more determination.

Nine Killer frowned. Thinking of Okeus always made him nervous. After all, temples and shrines were erected to the dark god. He was worshiped and placated, whereas Ohona, god of Creation and order, was mostly forgotten. Okeus always made Nine Killer feel as if he were standing on a high point while lightning flashed and banged in the sky. A man never knew when he was going to be blasted.