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People of the Nightland(145)

By:W. Michael Gear


Windwolf’s look was grim. “The same Nashat who ordered the Nine Pipes women clubbed to death in the pen they were being held in?”

Kakala rubbed his face. “How did you hear about that?”

“Skimmer and her daughter, Ashes, escaped. They hid under the dead. Nashat ordered the attack in the middle of the night. Just before dawn, Skimmer and her daughter slipped away.”

Keresa felt her heart sink. She glanced at Kakala. “And you wonder why I am not going with our people? They have lied to us from the beginning. We are sick, Kakala. Sick in our souls.”

“They are our people, Keresa.”

“The same ones who put you into the cage! And for what? Following Nashat’s orders to attack Headswift Village with a force we both knew was too small for the task?”

“We have had this discussion before.”

“And we’re going to have it again,” she insisted. “We have obeyed, followed their orders, and they put you in the cage for it. But for the Guide and me, you’d still be there!”

Kakala’s expression had grayed. “Don’t remind me!”

Keresa glanced apologetically at Windwolf. “Forgive us.”

“You sound like a married couple.”

Kakala shot him a warning look. “You’re the one who wants to marry her. I’d never have let myself in for that kind of irritation.”

Keresa shot him a smile. “Marry? Windwolf might be as disgusted with me in next moon as you’ve been for summers.”

Windwolf’s amused smile died. “I still have to save as many of my people as I can.” He looked at Kakala. “Unless you have some objection to that?”

“If my warriors can go free, and you can find a way of doing this without killing my people, I have no objection.” Kakala frowned. “If the Long Dark is such a paradise, why do we need to take so many things with us?”

“The journey is supposed to be long,” Keresa answered. “The captives carry the extra food.”

“And what do they eat?” Windwolf asked. “Each other?”

Keresa met Kakala’s suddenly dull eyes. “Nashat wouldn’t care about feeding slaves. That’s why he had the Nine Pipes women murdered.”

Kakala propped his chin on his knee. He glanced curiously at Windwolf. “You sent your warriors to the Tills?”

“It kept them alive. And, with party after party of refugees, they’re so busy hunting and getting people settled that they don’t have time to come back and get themselves killed over misguided heroics.”

“So, it’s just us?” Keresa asked.

“Just me,” he amended.

“I’m with you,” she insisted. “I helped put a lot of those women in there.”

Kakala gave a harsh laugh. “Windwolf, you’ve been so lucky you’ve come to believe you can’t die. Well, you can. I could have killed you when you walked through that opening.You’re tired, making mistakes. And one man isn’t going to free tens of tens of captives. Not from under Karigi’s very nose.”

Windwolf’s eyes hardened. “Karigi? It’s even more tempting. I have an old score to settle with him.”

“We both do,” Kakala insisted. Then he threw his arms up. “What am I doing?” He gave Keresa a pleading look. “He’s a madman!” Then, “Windwolf, you can’t help them by dying!”

She watched Windwolf and Kakala lock gazes. Then Windwolf said in a soft voice, “They’re my people, Kakala. If they were yours, what would you do?”

Kakala’s mouth opened, then slowly closed. He shrugged in weary defeat.

Keresa said, “Kakala, after all the planning we’ve done, and the raids we’ve pulled off, this shouldn’t be that difficult.”

He climbed stiffly to his feet. “I don’t know. My head has been aching since I banged it on that rock.” He looked at Windwolf. “I’m going back to my warriors. Do I need a guard?”

“It would be a good idea. First, it would stop you from entertaining any foolish ideas. Second, it would keep some angry Sunpath or Lame Bull widow from taking out her wrath on you.”

Keresa sighed, pulled her hand from Windwolf’s, and stopped when Kakala smiled. “Stay, Keresa. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Windwolf smiled at her. “I’ll escort him myself.”

“No guard at the door?” Kakala asked.

“Why would I need one?” Windwolf replied. “I assume Keresa still has that stiletto tucked in her moccasin.”





Sixty-one

The pain is almost over. Skimmer ran the words through her soul as she stared at the forbidding blackness of Ti-Bish’s chamber. She could feel his warm body pressed against hers where they lay together under the hides.