People of the Morning Star(188)
“And if you want my wife, she’s yours. Just don’t bring her back when you’re done.” Black Martin had returned to the fine details of his cutting.
“I’m just here to lay low.” Seven Skull Shield reached into a pack he’d stolen and removed a smoked fish that a distracted Trader hadn’t been paying enough attention to. “My every inclination is to be on a canoe, headed south, even if I had to paddle for my keep.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Because, assuming the Keeper’s still free to follow her instincts, the canoe landing will be well-watched.”
“What about your other … um, friends?”
“They know about Crazy Frog, Black Swallow, and the rest. Somehow old loyalties pale in comparison to the wealth my old companions might accrue should the Morning Star offer trinkets in return for my remarkably beautiful hide.” He sighed. “And with Crazy Frog, there’s a chance he’d expect me to live up to a bargain I may no longer be able to fulfill.”
“Just because you burned the Evening Star palace down?” Black Martin asked in mock amazement. “Don’t these Four Winds rulers take affront over the most inconsequential things?”
“Apparently they’ve no sense of humor,” Wild Hare agreed. “What’s another palace here or there among the Power kissed?”
At that moment, a boy of perhaps ten appeared in the doorway, carefully stepped around Black Martin, and grinned at Seven Skull Shield.
Swallowing his mouthful of fish, Seven Skull Shield asked, “What have you got for me, tadpole?”
“You know Crazy Frog’s wife, Mother Otter?” The kid’s cheeks were smudged. His face seemed to be all big eyes, a button nose, and round mouth. A filthy rag had been wrapped around his skinny waist. His bare feet where caked in malodorous mud.
“Did she say anything about me?”
The boy nodded, face expressing the seriousness of the situation. “She said nobles had been there. Morning Star’s warriors … and it scared her. She kept repeating that Crazy Frog told the nobles over and over that he didn’t know for sure where you were.”
“Didn’t know for sure?” Seven Skull Shield mused.
“Does Wooden Doll mean anything?” the boy asked. “Mother Otter said you were probably at Wooden Doll’s under the covers. Under what covers? Looks to me like you’re sitting on a stump in the cord makers’ workshop.”
Seven Skull Shield chuckled. “Wooden Doll is a longtime friend of mine, boy. A woman of insatiable appetites and a loose … Well, never mind. Good. All to the better. They can sniff around every single one of my delightful lady friends for as long as—”
An authoritative voice outside the door boomed, “Seven Skull Shield!”
He froze, heart racing. Then, in panic, shot to his feet. Two warriors were peering in, their faces tattooed in the Four Winds Clan pattern.
“He’s not here!” Seven Skull Shield insisted, trying to adopt a nonchalant look as he plucked up a piece of rope and inspected the braided strands with a critical eye. “He was. Earlier this morning. Traded that pot up there for a length of rope. Said he was going to offer it to a Pacaha Trader for passage south downriver. If you hurry, you might catch him at the landing.”
“I doubt it,” a familiar voice said, and the Keeper stepped between the warriors.
Black Martin had scuttled to the side, his painstaking cut having gone wildly astray, ruining two lines on his hide. Now he gaped up, looking like a trapped mouse.
“Hello, Keeper,” Seven Skull Shield added mildly and took another bite of his fish. Best eat all he could. There’d be no telling when he’d get another meal.
Unless, of course, these warriors would be no more vigilant than that last bunch.
Blue Heron cocked a skeptical eyebrow as she glanced around, taking note of the interior and its occupants. “Crazy Frog was right, I’d never have found you.”
“Then how did you?”
She tilted her head toward the boy. “You’d want as much warning as possible if we were hunting you. Glancing around Crazy Frog’s, he made the most sense. A little boy, looking homeless, working so hard to appear like he wasn’t listening. Clever, thief. Very clever.”
“It would probably be a rude observance, and not at all diplomatic to bring up, but I did distract that very nasty Tula up there in the palace when he had that gorgeous, brown chert, ceremonial knife to your neck.”
She chuckled to herself. “Yes, you did. Meanwhile, come. Unfortunately, there’s something I’ve overlooked for too long, a comeuppance, if you will, for bad behavior.”