Leather Hand kept the tree between him and the youth, then stepped out, no more than half a body-length from the youth. “Stop right there! And if you scream, this arrow goes right through your heart.”
The youth halted, wide-eyed, mouth dropping open. He blinked as Leather Hand’s warriors surrounded him.
“Who are you?” Leather Hand demanded.
“Ra-Ravenfire,” the youth sputtered, his head turning this way and that as he took in the hard-eyed warriors around him.
“Cornsilk’s get,” Turquoise Fox growled from behind the lad.
“Cornsilk’s get,” Leather Hand repeated.
“What—What are you going to do with me?” Ravenfire’s fear sent beads of nervous sweat to shimmer on his skin.
“Why, kill you,” Leather Hand said easily. “Just like we did the Dust People.”
“You?” Ravenfire’s throat worked. “You’re Leather Hand?”
“The very same. In less than a hand of time, we’ll be carving those tender muscles from your bones. Then we will deliver your head to your mother.”
“She’s-she’s not here!”
“Where is she?”
“Gone south with Poor Singer to Jay Bird’s village.”
“But Ironwood is here?”
Ravenfire shook his head vigorously. “Gone to First Moon Valley.”
“With how many warriors?”
“I—I’m not telling.”
“Hold him.” Leather Hand glanced at Turquoise Fox. He laid his bow to one side as he pulled a long obsidian blade from his belt pouch. Several of his warriors had grasped the youth, holding him while he kicked, and one clapped a hard hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming.
Leather Hand stepped close, using the keen blade to sever the belt at the young man’s waist. “See how easily the rope parts?” He traced the glittering blade along the base of Ravenfire’s throat. “Your neck will cut just as easily. Now, how many warriors did Ironwood take to First Moon Valley?”
“Th-Thirty.” It was hard to hear, mumbled against the gagging hand.
“Not enough to threaten Burning Smoke,” Turquoise Fox said with relief. “When Ironwood hears that the First Moon elders have been taken, he’ll retreat like a whipped puppy.”
Leather Hand nodded. To Ravenfire, he said, “You would like to live, wouldn’t you?”
Ravenfire swallowed hard, jerking his head in affirmation.
“Then you will tell us where Ironwood’s village is?”
The terrified Ravenfire nodded again.
“You won’t scream?”
He shook his head.
“Good.” Leather Hand fingered his chin. “When you approached, I heard you. So you’re tired of running errands and doing chores like a common slave?”
He might have been young, but Ravenfire was quick of mind. Leather Hand saw the calculating behind his eyes. Good, he could still think, even when frightened half out of his skin.
“Help us, prove your worth to us,” Leather Hand encouraged, “and your rewards could be greater than anything you have ever hoped.”
Ravenfire’s cunning eyes narrowed. “How great?”
“I want Ironwood. I’ll Trade your life for his.”
Ravenfire took a deep breath. “All right. Night Sun is over behind those trees. Once you have her, you can lure Ironwood anywhere you want him to go.” He glanced around. “But if I were you, I’d grab her, and run for someplace where you can control all the approaches. The longer you stay here, the more vulnerable you are.”
“Is it that easy for you?”
Ravenfire actually smiled. “They’ve never recognized my talents. I can do a great many things for you. After all, I’m Red Lacewing Clan—and I deserve a better life than scuttling around like a wood rat in the forest.”
For years Night Sun had lived the nightmare. In it, she imagined red-shirted warriors popping out of the trees, charging, their war clubs lifted. She had imagined the expressions of surprise and terror as people looked up from their chores, turned, and bolted in all directions.
That fateful moment when it finally happened, she stood, stunned, staring in disbelief as the warriors appeared out of the trees. Unlike her nightmares, however, they made no sound. The only thing she heard was the patting impact of their sandals on the hard dry ground.
It took her a moment to find her wits. In that instant, as she watched, Cedar Loom was struck down from behind. Then Night Sun turned, willing her old legs to run. She had made no more than six steps before she heard Ravenfire scream, “Grandmother! Help!”
She slid to a stop, turning, hesitating as she saw him running toward her. “Come on!” she cried. “This way!”