People of the Morning Star(34)
“No, great Lord.”
Pus and blood, the look he was giving her cut right to the bone.
After a long silence, he said, “I see.”
“See what, my Lord?”
“I see that whoever is plotting against me is either not of the Four Winds Clan, or he is so close to us as to be well-versed in our secrets and clever enough to avoid your nimble fingers.”
Blue Heron cautiously replied, “If the latter, it narrows the number of suspects considerably.”
“Someone among the Earth clans?” he asked mildly.
Blue Heron shrugged. “While nothing’s impossible, it would take incredible courage or foolishness for any of the Earth clans to attempt an assassination like last night’s. Great Lord, since you have come back to live with us, the Earth clans have enjoyed peace, prosperity, and riches like they’ve never known. But to unleash chaos? They have too much to lose, and whichever clan acted so rashly, the others would retaliate just to protect their investment in the system.”
Matron Wind touched her forehead, and asked, “What about them?” She jerked a head toward the huddled Red Wing Clan women. “Is it coincidence that Red Wing town is taken by Spotted Wrist, they are delivered here, and Spotted Wrist’s niece is murdered in your bed?”
He tilted his head the way a predatory bird might as it inspected prey. “I turn the question back on you, Matron. Is it?”
Blue Heron watched her sister squirm, then ask, “If it is, why are they still alive?”
A flicker of anger crossed his face then vanished. “Because Lady Night Shadow Star requested that they live for the moment.”
“Night Shadow Star?” Blue Heron blurted. “But … why?”
Morning Star once again fixed his unsettling eyes on her. “When I took this body, Chunkey Boy’s memories remained. That being the case, I’ve been kindly disposed to the lady Night Shadow Star. But only last night did I learn how completely we’ve all misjudged her.”
He took a breath, waving down any interruption. “Clan Keeper, you will accompany Lady Night Shadow Star and assist her in her current undertaking. In doing so, you will respect her ultimate authority … no matter what your predisposition or experience might suggest.”
“Defer? To my niece?” Blue Heron tried to keep from growling.
He gave her a godly, thin smile. “A reverse of the old line of authority. Reconciliation of opposites. Most suiting. But sometimes, when we turn the world upside down, the most interesting things come tumbling out of dark places.”
She ground the few teeth she had left, and said, “Yes, my Lord. Just what undertaking are we embarking upon?”
His face had closed into an expressionless mask. “I have ordered Five Fists to keep last night’s attack to himself. His trusted warriors have disposed of the bodies. Until I decide, no one else will know what happened here last night. Perhaps our lack of response will bewilder the plotters into revealing themselves. They may even feel emboldened to try again.
“Meanwhile, you will ferret out this plot, Clan Keeper. Discover who is behind it, and expose them to my wrath.” He paused for effect. “Know this: what stirs isn’t just the passions of men, but the workings of Power.”
“By whom?” Matron Wind almost snapped.
“Whoever it is who seeks my death is clever, skilled in his conjuring. He has powerful and frightening allies.” He gave them a slight smile. “But so does Lady Night Shadow Star.
“Clan Keeper, I ask that you communicate your findings to either the Matron, or Sun Wing, here. And after both have been apprised of the situation, they shall communicate them to me.”
Sun Wing? Blue Heron struggled to keep surprise and dismay from her expression, but she nodded. One didn’t argue with the Morning Star’s direct order. At least, not more than once.
She locked eyes with Matron Wind’s, seeing confusion and surprise reflected there.
“Yes, great Lord,” Blue Heron made herself say.
“Then you had better be about it, Clan Matron.”
Blue Heron drank down the last of her black drink with a feeling of unreality. As she started for the door, Morning Star called, “Oh, and Clan Keeper, I would be very careful if I were you. Anyone desperate enough to make an attempt on my life surely wouldn’t hesitate to murder a woman such as yourself, no matter how venerated.”
Eleven
Someone touching his body brought Fire Cat awake. His first impulse to jerk away died as his muscles and nerves jolted him with pain.
“Hold still,” a raspy voice told him.
Fire Cat blinked, memories flooding into his souls. He’d been following the Spirit form of First Woman, as if through a dream. The men carrying him had climbed a high set of stairs and lowered his body onto a veranda as she vanished into an ornate palace with painted walls and a magnificently carved door.