Water Bow couldn’t stop his dry smile. Fortunately, no one interpreted its true nature. He’d been out at midnight the night before Leather Hand left to hunt down Ironwood. Unable to sleep after hearing Whistle’s screams, he’d gone to check the moonrise. He’d walked in the shadow cast by one of the stone pillars, and had approached the signal fire when he heard a woman’s panting.
On the verge of calling out, he’d heard a man grunt and the rustle of cloth on stone.
Water Bow had stopped, unwilling to intrude on what was a private moment.
“Gods.” Larkspur’s throaty whisper had barely carried to Water Bow’s straining ears. “I miss a man’s hard staff.”
“There is always opportunity in the wind.”
“How is that?”
“You and I work very well together, Matron.”
“Is that ambition, Deputy?”
“You have Desert Willow’s confidence, and you are in line to be Matron of the First People should anything happen to her.”
“She’s young.”
“So are you.”
“I’m married.”
A pause.
“Do you love him?”
“How could I? I haven’t seen him for seasons on end. He’s not an imaginative man. There’s a reason Webworm sent him south. He follows orders, but thinking is too trying for him.”
“I see.”
“And?”
“You think a great deal, and you long for more.”
Larkspur had shifted. Peering around the tall pile of wood, Water Bow could see her arms where she tightened them around Leather Hand’s back. She said, “Tell me, Deputy, if we were to work together, do you think we could achieve more?”
“If our bodies are this good together, think of what the mating of our souls could bring.”
“I would like to explore that,” she’d whispered, “assuming I was to find myself suddenly without a husband.”
Water Bow had eased himself away before Sister Moon could rise high enough to reveal his presence. The next morning he’d seen one of Leather Hand’s warriors sneaking out of Pinnacle Great House, a large travel pack on the man’s shoulders. To Water Bow’s surprise, the man hadn’t been wearing his red war shirt, preferring to travel unrecognized.
I wonder how long it will be before Larkspur’s husband is found lying in his blankets, his head mysteriously missing?
Now, as he sat in the kiva, he knew Matron Larkspur’s cunning smile was based on more than just the weather. For her, things were looking very good indeed.
“We are more secure than we have been in quite some time,” Burning Smoke agreed. “With the elders in captivity, any threat from wild prophecies and possible attacks by Ironwood are nullified. With this moisture, the crops should be abundant. First Moon Valley can contribute even more to the famine relief in the south.”
Water Bow watched Larkspur’s growing smile. Apparently she was already imagining pack after pack of corn as it was borne out of the valley, headed for Flowing Waters Town. She was seeing another feather for her hair, and an even higher status in Desert Willow’s eyes.
Beware Matron Desert Willow. Let us hope that the serpent you have created in Leather Hand does not strike you sometime in the night.
It would, of course. Leather Hand’s ambition would only be rivaled by Larkspur’s.
“We still have no idea where Ironwood is,” Ravengrass said as he looked from face to face. “I first served under him. It doesn’t pay to underestimate the man.”
“I think we can be assured that he’ll be headed south as soon as he hears of Night Sun’s capture.” Larkspur’s eyes had narrowed. “He has surrendered his ambitions for Night Sun before; there is no reason to think he is a different man today than he has always been.”
“You must admire him,” Water Bow said, curious to elicit her reaction. “It’s hard to condemn a man who would sacrifice so much for the woman he loves. Such an undying love is hard to find, and should be appreciated.”
Her smile was wooden. The kind she’d give a doddering old fool.
“I’ve half a mind to call the guards in,” Burning Smoke said. “In this weather, they’re not going to be able to see an arm’s length in any direction. And the Matron’s right: With the First People elders in our hands, no one will try anything.”
“Do not delude yourself,” Ravengrass said. “Until we hear that Ironwood is spotted in the south, we must remain vigilant.”
“I have twice the number of men on the ridge below us.” Burning Wood insisted. “In this weather, no one could find their way up the slopes. Not even Ironwood is that crazy. Besides, he’d lose half his command to treacherous footing. Those who didn’t slip and break bones would be lost within moments of entering that thick timber.”