People of the Morning Star(146)
“All but one that I’ve seen,” High Dance croaked.
“Good. Then it’s just a matter of time before Brown Bear or one of his seconds checks on us.”
“Brown Bear’s dead.” He swallowed hard. “I … I…”
She felt her gut heave. “Rot take you, say it!”
“I dismissed the warriors.”
She closed her eyes, a terrible emptiness hollowing her gut.
Bead’s warriors were filing out of her bedroom, shaking their heads as they reported.
“Who are you?” she demanded of Bead, determined to be the Matron no matter what.
Bead gestured for a piece of cloth, and began scrubbing at his face. Brown, yellow, and black smeared on the fabric. Even before the familiar patterns were revealed, she gasped. “They said you were dead.”
Walking Smoke shot her a dismissive glance. “They’ve said a lot of things about me, cousin. Most of them, sad to say, are unfortunately true.”
She had almost formed a response when a litter was carried in the front door, across the mat floor, and placed in the rear of the room behind the dais.
As it passed, Columella blinked, recognizing Lace’s naked body where it lay lashed to the top. The woman looked as if she were in shock, her face pain-laced.
“But she’s … she’s your sister!”
Walking Smoke gave Lace a sleepy glance as he stood and stepped down from Columella’s dais. “Yes. More’s the pity.” He walked over and stared down at Columella, a blankness behind his eyes. “You … and she … can chew on that unpleasant fact while I go take a nap. It’s been a beast’s own night getting here, getting set up. Been awake for most of two days. I’m assuming your bed is comfortable enough for a good sleep?”
When she didn’t answer, he just chuckled, called an order to the Caddo warriors, and sauntered back through her door.
“What’s this about, High Dance?” she whispered miserably.
“I don’t know, sister. I really don’t.” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Fifty-three
In the back of the Morning Star’s palace great room, Seven Skull Shield stood respectfully before one of the ornately carved benches. The poles had been artfully rendered as serpents by using the natural bends of the wood. Interlaced strips of hide had been woven across the frame and supported richly woven blankets and perfectly tanned hides. These either served to cushion someone’s seat, or covered a sleeper.
He wondered how many people were allowed to sleep in the Morning Star’s palace. He could see the slaves—including Fire Cat’s mother and two sisters—where they huddled on rugs in one corner. He suspected they weren’t allowed on the fancy bedding.
Fire Cat, standing beside him, glanced thankfully in their direction, obviously relieved to see them healthy and washed, and apparently not outwardly abused.
Must be agonizing to know that your once-exalted family is now someone’s property. He glanced at the Red Wing, seeing the effort the man put into keeping his expression neutral.
Better to live like me.
He grinned to himself. The only responsibility he had was to keep his belly full, elude whatever pursuit was behind him, and avoid, at all costs, hanging in some lord’s square while his fellow rabble sliced and burned his body.
The Keeper, sitting to the left of the fire, had a hand to her breast as she slowly got her wind back. She’d insisted on making the climb herself. Not that Seven Skull Shield blamed her, he couldn’t imagine letting the porters carry him up that frightening stairway on some precariously bobbing litter.
Tonka’tzi Wind also had seated herself on the west side of the great crackling fire in the center of the room. She had a huge copper headpiece tied into her gray hair and wore a rich-purple dress dotted with elk ivories. He figured that he could just about Trade that dress for an entire town in the southeast.
Night Shadow Star, in contrast, stood beside her aunt, arms crossed. A tan apron was suspended from a wide leather belt. Woven from the finest hemp, the piece hung below her knees in front and back. The sheer fabric swayed delicately as it caught the draft. She had thrown a cape of colorful parakeet feathers back over her shoulders, and her arms were crossed under her perfectly proportioned breasts. Instead of a head piece, she wore her hair loose, spilling down over the feathered cape to just above her belt. Her expression seemed distant, worried.
Seven Skull Shield let his gaze trace up and down her muscular legs, around the curve of her butt, and across her flat belly. He could imagine nuzzling between the full swell of her breasts …
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re nothing more than a rude, snuffling dog?” Fire Cat almost spat from the side of his mouth.