“You’re a remarkably bright man, old friend. And not just about the ins and outs of chunkey. I need information.”
Badger Cape and Sun Bird went to retrieve their gaming pieces and the judge raised an ornate stick at the side of the chunkey court to mark Sun Bird’s point.
The crowd along the court was busy calling encouragement to their favorite player, or haggling over bets.
Crazy Frog gave him a sidelong glance. “A big shell like that earns you not only my wisdom on chunkey and a seat on my platform, but more than just a little information. What is it this time? You need an introduction to some unlucky young woman?”
“What do you mean, ‘unlucky’?”
Crazy Frog shrugged, his nondescript face expressionless. “If I were a pretty young woman, and I woke up to find you in my bed, I’d feel unlucky.”
“Good thing you’re not a young woman. And if I were ever to wake up and find you sharing my bed? I’d slice my own throat open before I’d live with the memory.”
Crazy Frog laughed and slapped his knee.
Seven Skull Shield concentrated on his friend’s expression as he added, “That would take a special knife, of course. Something ceremonial, perhaps made of translucent brown chert and chipped out by a master flint-knapper. You heard of any such knives being Traded around?”
Crazy Frog’s eyes narrowed as he thought. “Nope. But I could put the word out. What do you need it for?”
“Maybe I’m worried about waking up with you in my bed?”
“Not a chance. And you didn’t bribe me with that shell just to get a line on an expensive ceremonial knife.”
Seven Skull Shield watched Badger Cape take his position, all of his concentration on the course. Spectators shouted advice and support from the sidelines. The player sprinted forward with a passion, tucked, and bowled his stone. Shifting the lance was smoothly done, and he cast before pulling to a stop just shy of the penalty line.
“He’s throwing long,” Crazy Frog muttered, moving his counter.
Seven Skull Shield watched the lance impact a good six hands beyond where the stone stopped. “I don’t think I want you watching when I play.”
“You’re not too bad. With practice and someone who knows the game to tell you what you’re doing wrong, you’d be pretty good.”
“But not great?”
“Not to the point that I’d play the Morning Star for my head if I were you.”
“He usually grants the loser his head back.”
“You assume he’ll be in a good mood when he plays you.”
“What do you hear about the Morning Star? Myself, I’ve heard that some parties aren’t very pleased with him these days.”
Crazy Frog watched Sun Bird take his position, study the court, and then charge forward to bowl his stone and cast his lance. He moved another bead in Sun Bird’s favor even before the lance had made it midway through its flight. “Being ‘displeased’ with the Morning Star and clapping one’s jaws about it doesn’t sound like the best path to a long and happy life.”
“Apparently someone has done just that. Anything you might have heard that actually proves worthwhile might earn you considerably more than a whelk shell or two.”
Crazy Frog gave him a careful inspection from the corner of his eye. “Tell me that you’re not thinking about challenging the Morning Star. I always thought you were smarter than to desire a slow death in a square. And, if that’s where you’re headed, I want nothing to do with you.”
“Me? Challenge the Morning Star? Not in this or any other lifetime.”
“So far you’re not making much sense, old friend.” He arched an eyebrow. “Say, this doesn’t have anything to do with that rumor that the Four Winds Clan Keeper ran you down in old Meander’s shell-carving workshop? I figured it was some exaggerated story.” He chuckled. “Did she really call that third leg of yours a tow rope?”
“It was just a misunderstanding about some Old-Woman-Who-Never-Dies statuettes.”
“Oh, yeah, and I heard they broke every finger in Black Swallow’s hands for stealing them.”
Seven Skull Shield made a face. “We’re getting away from the point. Tell me something: Do you like the way things are? Enjoying wealth, fine food, gambling on chunkey, living like a high chief, running your own little squadron of hired men?”
Crazy Frog’s eyes were flat and emotionless. “What do you think?”
“I think you want everything to stay just as it is. I think you really like living the way you do. Me, myself? I want things to stay as they are. I think Cahokia’s perfectly fine just as it is.” He paused. “Someone doesn’t share our way of thinking.”