People of the Morning Star(9)
“Assuming Night Shadow Star has remembered the reception,” Notched Cane grumbled. He, too, was a cousin “appointed” to her by an errant relative who’d committed one too many infractions. Blue Heron had originally kept him as a hostage, but had come to rely on his skills at keeping her house in order. The man had a way with the slaves, somehow ensured that food—agreeable to her tastes and properly cooked—was on hand, swept the place clean, and managed to keep the bedding, matting, and roof in repair. Under his watchful eye, the fires always had an ample supply of wood, and the water pots were filled.
“Watch your tongue, old friend,” she warned. Then she shot Clay Ball and Fire Temper, her two guards, a meaningful, slit-eyed glance. Both warriors responded with the slightest of nods. Over the years they’d learned to keep things to themselves. Especially family concerns. Like Night Shadow Star hearing and seeing things that weren’t there.
Two Beads cleared his throat suggestively, nodding toward the tall, flat-topped pyramid that rose just to the northwest of the chunkey courts and on the other side of the Avenue of the Sun, the thoroughfare that marked the great plaza’s northern boundary. Atop it stood the clay-plastered walls of Night Shadow Star’s thatch-roofed palace. It’s supporting mound dominated the northwest corner of the great plaza, while the Wind Clan House itself lay off to the west, in line with the Great Mound and separated from Night Shadow Star’s by the Western Plaza. The Tonka’tzi’s imposing palace on its larger mound stood midway down the western edge of the plaza. There, Blue Heron’s elder brother, Red Warrior, resided in opulence. His front step provided him with a perfect vantage to watch activities in the plaza.
Blue Heron remained painfully aware of Two Beads’ dour expression. Also in his forties, toothless, and skinny, he served as her recorder. Among his duties he saw to the dispatch of messengers, read and produced bead mats, and ensured that she was updated on events, comings and goings, and generally informed.
“Blood and pus,” Blue Heron muttered as she inspected Night Shadow Star’s palace. No doubt about it, her niece’s entire household was lounging on the veranda, shaded as it was by the sloping extension of the roof. Some of Night Shadow Star’s servants, like Blue Heron’s, were Four Winds Clan who had been volunteered or conscripted into service. The others were slaves.
At Blue Heron’s approach they began to rise, watching her with worried eyes. The way they stood, shoulders slumped, hands fidgeting, feet shuffling, all suggested trouble.
Blue Heron gave a hand signal, and her porters lowered her carefully to the ground. She rose from the litter chair and climbed the wooden steps leading up the ramp on the mound’s eastern side; her breath began to labor as she neared the top. She felt one of the squared timbers rock underfoot.
“Watch that one.” She pointed. Not good. The old Night Shadow Star had never allowed anything to fall into disrepair.
As she cleared the top and stepped onto the flat before the palace, Night Shadow Star’s household staff looked everywhere but at her, dusting off skirts and blankets as they coughed nervously and tried to hide embarrassment.
To Smooth Pebble, she said, “Stay here.”
“Yes, Clan Keeper.”
She fixed on Field Green, Night Shadow Star’s aide, and barked, “That loose step needs fixed. See to it.”
“Yes, Clan Keeper.” The woman lowered her eyes. “Lady Night Shadow Star asked me to inform you that she’s indisposed to receive—”
“She’ll see me now.”
“But, Clan Keeper, I can’t just—”
“Do you wish to pick a quarrel with me, Field Green?”
“I … I…” The woman’s mouth opened and closed like that of a suffocating fish.
“Out of my way.” Blue Heron marched past her, hardly noticing the woman’s smudged black skirt or the panic in her eyes.
At sight of the two new guardian posts, Blue Heron stopped short; a cold fear sent a shiver down her spine. Carvings of Horned Serpent and Piasa stood just out from the veranda and to either side of the entrance. Each was immaculately sculpted and painted; both stared out through shell-inlaid eyes. The Underworld Spirits regarded Blue Heron with malevolence. Horned Serpent’s sinuous body had been rendered in rainbow-colored scales, his head adorned with forked antlers painted scarlet.
Piasa’s face mimicked that of a screaming cougar. The three-forked-eye design—indicative of his Underworld home—surrounded two fierce yellow eyes. A diamond-patterned snake’s tail culminated in rattles and had been affixed to the creature’s rump. Two raking arms were mounted on the front, ending in grasping, yellow-painted eagle’s feet with curving black talons.