The Blessed Sun was whistling softly to himself as he proceeded with his carving. Having seen Blue Racer’s procession off, he might not have had a care in the world.
“The last of them have vanished into the hills, Blessed Sun.” Wind Leaf shuffled as he waited for some response.
“Good.” Webworm finally looked up from his carving. Wind Leaf could see that it was some sort of snake curled inside an egg-shaped jet pebble.
“I’ve detailed runners to keep us informed of the Sunwatcher’s progress, especially once they have reached First Moon Valley.” He cleared his throat. “One of my deputies, Leather Hand, hasn’t reported to me.”
“I’d be surprised if he had. What? Did I forget to tell you?” Webworm cocked his head. “I’ve given him and his men a special project.”
Wind Leaf’s stomach tightened. “Did you send him off with a packet of seasonings? I hear that chilies and squash blossoms add a delightful sweet tang to boiling meat.”
At that Webworm threw his head back, laughter bubbling from his belly. “Quite so, War Chief. I should have thought of that on my own.”
Gods, the man hadn’t even caught the irony? “I’ve begun the process of collecting supplies for your journey, Blessed Sun. I wish, however, that you would tell me why you countermanded my order for another twenty warriors to accompany us to First Moon Valley.”
“I am planning on going in secret,” he replied. “A large party, as I’m sure you could see with Blue Racer’s passage, raises too much dust.” He glanced up, smiling. “When we go, it will be quickly, with no warning.”
Wind Leaf took a deep breath. “You expect trouble, yet will not allow me to prepare to meet and destroy it.”
“There are too many places along the trail where a party can be ambushed. Were we to follow the river bottoms, a smaller force could inflict terrible damage in the canyon narrows. If we were to take the ridges, we would be vulnerable again, either when we climbed up onto the caprock, or when the mesa tops narrowed.” He gestured with the stone graver he held. “I learned my lesson well, War Chief.”
Wind Leaf exhaled his frustration. After Jay Bird’s raid, Webworm had been in charge during the pursuit. His war party had climbed through a treacherous canyon, then out onto an easily defended rim. As they passed into the open—and what should have been relative safety—they’d found a dead captive left behind by Jay Bird. It had been a cunningly devised ambush that had sent Webworm reeling back to Straight Path Canyon in staggering defeat.
“So you will go with a small party? If Ironwood should hear—”
“He won’t. That’s why I will decide on my own exactly when to leave and which route to take.”
“But the additional warriors—”
“I want them here,” he declared emphatically. “They must protect the corn!”
“The corn? I’d rather that you not go than waste warriors protecting corn.”
“War Chief, a little more than eighteen sun cycles pass between Sister Moon’s homecomings. I didn’t see it last time, and at my age, it’s a sure thing that I won’t be here to see it next time. This is my opportunity.”
“But the extra warriors, Blessed Sun!”
Webworm looked up expectantly. “They must patrol the river fields. The farmers already have their hands full just battling the raccoons, worms, crows, and other vermin.”
Wind Leaf scuffed the packed clay under his feet. Webworm could read displeasure in his expression.
“People are hungry out there.” Webworm gestured randomly toward the south. “What good does it do me to travel to Pinnacle Great House to watch Sister Moon come home if the country is starved into revolt over the coming winter?”
Wind Leaf nodded, thinking, I’d rather fight a disorganized hunger-weakened rabble than one better fed, led by a resurrected Ironwood, and goaded on by the murder of a Blessed Sun.
Webworm gestured with his chert graver again. “I’ve had some of the Priests out counting.”
“Counting?” The change of subject surprised him.
“Yes, counting the number of fields, looking at the corn, beans, and squash plants. We have a chance to avoid calamity. That is to confiscate as much corn as we can, carry it here under guard, and parcel it out throughout the winter. I’ll pack every room in Flowing Waters Town, Northern Town, and the rest of the great houses. People may starve this winter—some obviously will—but the First People must be seen to help. Everyone must know that their Blessed Sun is working for their good.”