People of the Mist(51)

“What’s that?” Sun Conch asked. High Fox shrugged, but Panther saw the tension building in the boy’s muscular arms.

“That high-pitched wolf sound,” Sun Conch observed. “I know that call. It’s … a war cry.”

“Big Noise,” High Fox agreed, placing the voice. “He only makes that cry in battle.”

“Hurry!” Sun Conch cried, her paddle taking a full bite of the murky water.

Hands braced on the gunwales, Panther swallowed hard. What would he find? And what would he do when he got there? As the Three Myrtle Village warriors drew themselves into line and charged forward, Nine Killer drew his famous bow, figured the distance and drop, and shot. He watched the arrow rush up against the graying dawn, arch, and lance down toward the prancing figure at the head of the line. Perhaps Black Spike wasn’t paying attention. At that range, he should have seen the arrow coming, would have had plenty of time to skip out of the way. He held his wicker shield high on his left arm, gesturing his warriors forward with his right as he checked his lines for the attack.

Thus it was that Nine Killer’s arrow slanted out of the sky and drove itself through Black Spike’s shield.

The Weroance staggered under the impact, stared stupidly at the bloody shaft that had driven through his shield and now protruded from his forearm. More from surprise than pain, he dropped to his knees and screamed.

At that, the line wavered in confusion.

Nine Killer smiled grimly to himself. He’d bought a little more time for his warriors. If he could delay the inevitable attack through the day and until dark, he and his men could attempt to swim the inlet. Perhaps then, at’ least, some of them might escape the death trap he’d led them into. But not me, Nine Killer consoled himself. Someone had to pay for this debacle, and no matter what, his reputation was ruined. Better to die here, bravely fighting a rear-guard action. At least that will save some shred of honor for my family and clan.

“No!” Black Spike cried, refocusing Nine Killer’s attention. The Weroance was struggling to his feet and waving his warriors onward. “Go on! Rush them! Kill them to the last man!”

Big Noise, to Black Spike’s right, leapt and screamed his cougar cry, shaking his wicker shield and waving his war club over his head. “Onward! Kill them!”

Nine Killer glanced to each side, noting with satisfaction that his warriors were standing fast, bows strung, arrows ready. Some had boosted their fellows up into the trees, where they could shoot down on the attackers. Others had broken off branches, piled earth into crude breastworks, and used the trees to the best advantage for defense.

Three Myrtle Village could take them—would take them before the day was out—but they’d pay dearly for the effort.

“Do you see!” Nine Killer called as he stepped from the trees to face the ragged line of warriors. “Do you see what happened to Black Spike? Come on! Who will be next?”

Nine Killer paced back and forth. “Who will die?”

The sullen line of attacking warriors had halted again.

That’s it, buy time. Prolong the inevitable. “I am Nine Killerl I have shot the first arrow, and drawn the blood of your Weroance. I didn’t mean to kill him.” A lie wouldn’t hurt a thing here. “But you must know that we will kill you if we have to!”

“You can’t escape!” Black Spike cried. Two warriors were working on the arrow in his arm. One snapped off the stone-tipped point, the other drawing the slim shaft back through the arm and woven willow. Black Spike’s shield dropped to the ground as the Weroance cradled his bleeding arm.

“We don’t want to escape!” Nine Killer thumped his chest proudly. “We came for High Fox! Give him to us, and we will leave!”

“How?” Big Noise demanded. “Walk on water?”

Hoots of derision rose from the Three Myrtle warriors.

Nine Killer raised a fist. “You know me! Give me the boy, and we’ll leave! We don’t want a war. We don’t want to kill anyone. But Red Knot, daughter of Shell Comb, has been murdered!”

Black Spike struggled to his feet, one of the warriors binding a strip of hide tightly about the wound. “You came to kill, you worthless Flat Pearl dogs! Now, you’ll reap the rewards.”

Nine Killer rocked on his heels, seeing the resolve stiffening in the line of attackers. If only his arrow had cut through Black Spike’s heart instead of his arm! With Black Spike dead, he might have been able to garner enough time to figure out a way to escape.

“Forward!” Black Spike cried, pointing at Nine Killer’s warriors. “Nine Killer has taken his best shot! Yet here I stand, barely scratched! Okeus has granted his Power to our side! Go! Take them, and let no man live! You will be forever remembered for this day! Generations yet unborn will sing of your courage and bravery!”