He ran a hand through his moist black hair and forced himself to respond. “Windwolf would never dispatch a war party to the Nightland Caves unless he was leading it.”
“What about the missing warriors?”
“I suspect they’re involved in finding food for the refugees.” He looked up and smiled gloatingly at Kakala. “You already told me they’ve looted the dead.”
Kakala’s nostrils flared. “I would do the same thing. Let me ask you this: Is it possible Windwolf is planning on exchanging us for some of the hostages Karigi is holding? Or perhaps the Sunpath slaves at the Nightland Caves?”
Goodeagle chuckled. “If somebody corners him, he’ll try arranging an exchange—your people’s freedom for his. If that doesn’t work … well, you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.” But then, even if they were exchanged, they only had the cages to look forward to.
He paused. Was Windwolf counting on that?
Kakala’s gaze drifted to Keresa. She wandered slowly around the edges of the chamber, grimacing at the walls and floor. Goodeagle’s eyes narrowed. He’d watched her go about her duties for moons; he knew her style: brusque and honest. What was this new feminine allure? He shook his head, fighting against the clear similarities between her graceful movements and Bramble’s. Did they affect Windwolf in the same way? He felt suddenly numb—the thought like a stiletto driven into his soul.
Perhaps her newfound allure reflected exactly what she knew Windwolf liked? Or was it his direct, if subtle, coaching? Whose side are you on, beauty? He had to know, and fast.
“I’m worried,” Keresa said. “I think the missing warriors are on their way to the Nightland Caves, and if we don’t get out of here to warn our people—”
“Really?” Goodeagle gave a low laugh that made his own blood run cold. “Did Windwolf tell you that? In personal discussions? He’s a rare man, isn’t he? Gentle, willing to bend over backward to compromise so he doesn’t have to hurt you.Yes, I can hear it now, ‘Keresa, just help me and I’ll guarantee the safety of everyone you love. Help me, Keresa.’”
She seemed to stop breathing. He leaned forward. “And he has a reputation for being an expert beneath the hides. Oh, I’ll bet you like that, don’t you? Did he promise you riches as well?”
Kakala glanced at his deputy, and Goodeagle could see the lurking doubts surface. Kakala suspected it, too.
In a warning voice, Kakala said, “Goodeagle, if I were you, I wouldn’t—”
“You’re not me! And this is too amusing. Don’t you disapprove of treason, Kakala?” He thrust a hand out at Keresa. “Blessed Ancestors, I’ve seen this so many times!” he lied, pushing, trying to force her cool confidence to break. He ignored the slight shift of her body, the cold glare she gave him. “Seducing women warriors is a game with Windwolf, he—”
In a graceful dancer’s whirl, she kicked out. Her right foot slammed into Goodeagle’s shoulder and sent him sprawling. He struggled to his knees, but she kicked him down on his stomach, landed on top of him, and her arm tightened around his windpipe. He gasped for breath.
From the corner of his eye, he could see her smile. “You’re dead, Goodeagle.”
“Keresa,” Kakala said sternly. He tried to pull her off, but her arm just constricted tighter.
“Keresa! Let him go! We’re all crazy from the tension. Don’t let this—”
“You’ll back me, won’t you, Kakala? Goodeagle was obviously suffering from a bout of Sunpath conscience. He was trying to escape … to go warn Windwolf about our plans.”
Kakala hesitated, then nodded. “Make it quick and clean; I don’t want any noise.”
The cool way Kakala had spoken left Goodeagle reeling. “Wait!” he rasped. “The Nightland Elders promised me sanctuary! Kakala, you can’t—”
“No, but I can.” Keresa smiled again, speaking to Goodeagle in a caressing voice as she lessened the pressure. “Let’s have a final talk, shall we? If I get the right answers, you might even live. Hmm? What do you say?”
He twisted to gaze up into Keresa’s icy eyes. “What—what do you want to know?”
“Details. Just minor details of the Walking Seal Village battle.” She toyed with him, smoothing her deadly fingers down his neck like a lover’s hand. Every muscle in his body went rigid. Kakala looked on as though bored.
May the Spirits curse him! He’s a Nightland war chief, and the Council promised me sanctuary!
He blinked at the pressure at his throat. But that’s not why I did it. No. No!