Blue Heron was on the verge of calling her guards to have them deal with the ruffian, but Seven Skull Shield raised a restraining hand as the man offered a beautifully crafted red-granite chunkey stone.
Seven Skull Shield took it, glanced at Blue Heron, and said, “Give my good friend, here, a nice piece of Trade, Keeper. I think I’m off to try my skill. If this stone changes my luck, I may have something for you.” He actually winked at her in a most conspiratorial manner. Then he was off, almost pounding his way through the crowd as he headed west on the Avenue of the Sun.
The arm-scarred brute was looking at her as if he’d never seen a noble in his entire life. Maybe he hadn’t. She gestured as Smooth Pebble and War Claw appeared at either side. “Give the good fellow a piece of copper, will you? And thank him for his service.”
“But, I…” Smooth Pebble touched her chin, adding, “Yes, Keeper. But I’ve received a message. A runner, almost spent, arrived as you were coming down the stairs. Lady Columella requests your presence in Evening Star town. She informs you that she’s discovered some very unsettling information, unsettling enough that she will only disclose it to you in person.”
“How soon does she want me there?”
“Her messenger said immediately.” Smooth Pebble’s brow lined with worry. “Keeper? With everything else that’s going on, do you dare leave?”
Blue Heron frowned, all the while searching the crowd around her. She had a face and name to put on the threat now. He’d disguise himself, of course, paint his tattoos with a thick layer of paint. But now that she knew to look for his eyes, she would recognize him, wouldn’t she? He couldn’t have changed that much in the few years he’d been gone.
“Curse it!” She glanced around. “Now that I really need him, he’s gone!”
“Who? The thief?”
“Oh, very well.” She glanced up at the sun. “But I’m not going tonight. We’ll leave first thing, before dawn. That should get me there by just after midday tomorrow. But send a runner to River Mounds. Have War Duck pre-position porters at the midway to relieve mine when they become winded. I don’t want to be gone a moment longer than I need to.”
“Yes, Keeper.”
“What’s the matter?” She squinted at Smooth Pebble. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“I just don’t like it is all, Keeper. The scorpion has been ahead of us all along. What if he’s somehow staged this to get you away from Morning Star House, away from the Tonka’tzi and Night Shadow Star?”
“We’ve got a name now,” she said, lowering her voice. “It’s Lord Walking Smoke. He’s back, and he’s behind all of this.”
“Don’t go to Evening Star town,” Smooth Pebble warned. “You’ll be vulnerable the entire way.”
“Maybe that’s what he’s planning on,” she mused. “But if I go fast, leave even earlier, I can be there at first light before he expects. Once I’m inside Columella’s palace, I’ll be untouchable.”
Fifty-five
At dusk the smoke always thickened in the air as endless fires were stoked or fanned into life for evening meals, or perhaps to provide enough light as a family gathered after a hard day’s labor in the fields.
As Seven Skull Shield hurried down the Avenue of the Sun, he watched the great city succumb to night. The hawkers and Traders had closed up their packs and rolled their blankets, or taken down their small wicker stands. Packs of dogs grew more active, knowing that bones, scraps, and occasional untended plates might now be found in greater abundance.
Parents called for their children, who, desperate for another game with their friends, argued for “just awhile longer.”
The rank smells of latrines and the cloying stench from charnel houses drifted on the long fingers of the evening breeze to mix with the tang of rot and the acrid stink of unwashed humanity.
No sooner would the stench become nearly unbearable than a fresh eddy would replace it, and tease the nose with the mouth-watering scent of baking nut bread, or pit-roasted meat. Sometimes the odors of roasting corn would almost overpower, to be followed by the tantalizing fragrance of a boiling rabbit or fish stew. The drifting scent of sassafras tea, a trace of mint, or berry juice just added spice when mixed with turkey or rosehips.
He passed a constant stream of men and occasional women, hurrying along to beat the darkness and return home. Sometimes they bore packs, other times their arms were full, or baskets hung from tumplines.
Laughter could be heard from around the crackling fires he passed. At other times voices were raised in acrimony. Babies periodically screamed and cried, and singing rose as worshippers melodically thanked the now-set sun for the gift of the day. Dogs barked, and the occasional howl mixed with flute and drum music.