People of the Nightland(134)
Ti-Bish grabbed Skimmer’s collar, pulling her back. “No, no, let him go, Skimmer. This isn’t the time.” She heard him swallow, desperation in his voice. “Please, Skimmer!”
She hesitated, trembling with the desire to choke the very life out of Nashat.
“Skimmer?” Ti-Bish asked weakly. “Please? It’s not the time.”
“But it will be,” she promised. “And soon.”
Nashat fled to the doorway, calling, “Time, Guide, is a very fluid thing.” Then he was gone, running for all he was worth.
Tears welled in Ti-Bish’s eyes. Softly, he said, “Skimmer, come. We’ve got to go.”
He pulled her after him, taking a side passage out of the chamber.
When they’d followed the tunnel around the first curve, he broke into a run.
“Why are you running?”
“Because as soon as he finds the right warriors, they’ll be coming to kill you.”
Fifty-six
Nashat hurried down the tunnel and out the front entrance, heading straight for the Night Clan’s camp. He hadn’t been so frightened in years. He’d looked into Skimmer’s eyes and seen death there.
She would have killed me! The knowledge sent a shiver down his spine and turned his guts runny.
The round lodges made of bent saplings tied together at the top and covered with hides looked tawdry in the bright sunlight. The paintings had faded to dull, indistinguishable images. And the soot of many campfires had furred the lodge tops, turning them black.
Get a hold of yourself! He forced himself to slow, to breathe normally. Gods, he was Councilor Nashat! Not some simpering slave. For a moment, he stood, letting his heart resume its normal beat. Here, out of the caves, his old self returned.
The tall man standing with his friends before the fire stopped suddenly when he saw Nashat.
“Elder,” he said, and bowed deeply. “You honor us with your—”
“What’s the last thing you saw at Headswift Village, Homaldo?”
The muscular warrior straightened, fear behind his eyes. “War Chief Kakala was preparing to attack Headswift Village.” He waved his hand uncertainly. “After that, Kakala ordered us to leave immediately, to bring Skimmer to the Guide.”
A stiff wind gusted off the lake, flapping Nashat’s cape around his long legs. “Would it surprise you to hear that Kakala walked into a trap? Perhaps it would shock you even more to learn he’s holed up in some rocks, surrounded?”
Homaldo looked at the other warriors in the circle. They shrugged or shook their heads. Homaldo said, “Alive? He’s alive?”
“That seems to surprise you?”
“Well, I mean … if what you say is true.”
“I’ll know soon enough. I’ve sent a runner to have Karigi’s deputy, Ewin, take a war party to Headswift Village on his way back here.” He enjoyed the expression of terror on Homaldo’s face. “But I have another task for you and your friends.”
Homaldo swallowed hard. “Y-Yes?”
“You can go to the cages—you Kishkat, Tapa, and the other one. Or you can do me a slight service. Which would you choose?” When Homaldo just stood there looking at him, Nashat barked, “Which!”
“Yes, Elder, of course. We are honored to do you any service. Let me get my weapons and my pack. Kishkat, Tapa, and Tibo will be most anxious to help.”
While Homaldo ducked into his lodge, Nashat gazed around the camp. Curse the other Elders. The news must have already reached the people. Everywhere he looked, men and women ran from lodge to lodge, and happy voices rang out. Several people Danced and Sang. Before he knew it, they would be taking down their lodges and packing up for the journey through the hole in the ice to the Long Dark.
The fools.
Homaldo ducked out of his lodge carrying his weapons. His small warrior’s pack rode his back beneath his cape, making him resemble a hunchback. His wife ducked out behind him, and gave Nashat a scathing look. A little boy came out behind her with tears in his eyes. He gazed up at Homaldo and started to sob.
Homaldo knelt and hugged the boy one last time, then said, “Elder, what do you wish us to do?”
Nashat flipped up his hood against the ferocious wind. “You will take your friends and search the tunnels under the ice until you find the woman Skimmer. I think you remember what she looks like? Then, you will bring me her head.”
“Where are we going, Ti-Bish?” Skimmer called up to him. The trail that twisted through his “secret” crevasse was steep and slick. Rivulets of meltwater ran down the trail. Her moccasins kept slipping on the wet ice.
“We’re almost there.” Ti-Bish gripped her hand and pulled her out into the bright gleam of Father Sun.