Windwolf walked forward and gestured to the weapons. “When I met you last night, I was surprised that you did not come armed. What if I’d meant you harm?”
Lookingbill winced and shifted his back, trying to ease the pain in his wounded shoulder. “You do not have the reputation of killing unarmed men who ask to counsel with you.”
“Then, perhaps we can only hope the Prophet will seek a meeting?”
Lookingbill laughed, and winced at the pain.
Windwolf knelt beside the fire and extended his hands to the flames. “I asked Trembler to find a runner for me. After I dispatch him, I’ll be on my way. If I’m gone when Kakala returns, he might leave you in peace.”
“I think it more likely that he will punish us for having sheltered you to start with. Which means I want you to come back soon—and with your warriors. Why do you wish a runner?”
The memory of screaming women and children haunted him. “To send a message to Deputy Silt.”
Lookingbill frowned. “But … where are you going?”
Windwolf looked back at the doorway, lowering his voice. “To scout the Nightland villages myself.” He waved down Lookingbill’s look of protest. “No one can evaluate an enemy better than I can, Chief. Alone I can cover the same ground in four days that a war party can in seven.”
“And if you’re captured?” Lookingbill asked softly.
“I won’t be.” He chuckled. “I’ll move by darkness. I don’t need to take risks.”
“And where will we meet your warriors?”
How do I tell him? “That will depend on where the Nightland warriors are.” He paused. “And it would be a dead giveaway if Nashat learned that my warriors were assembling here with yours.”
Lookingbill nodded. “Of course.” He paused. “You should know that a survivor from the Nine Pipes band came through this morning. He said he thought Skimmer and her daughter were alive. Their bodies were not among the dead in the camp.”
Alive? What implications did that have?
“War Chief, they may have been taken captive.”
“In which case they’re already among the Nightland.” He glanced up. “Is there any reason she might come here?”
“To ask once again for my help?” He winced as he slowly shook his head. “I turned her down once. Why should she?” He glanced up. “Do you have a reason for asking?”
“I would like to hear this plan of hers. She may have information about the Nightland Caves that we can use.”
Lookingbill smiled faintly. “Should she show up, I’ll make apologies and tell her how foolish my people and I have been.”
Voices rose outside, and Trembler called, “War Chief Windwolf, I found a runner for you.”
Windwolf turned to Lookingbill; the old man pointed a stern finger at him and said, “You stay alive, too. Or I fear we’ll all be dead soon.”
Fourteen
The sacred caves formed an intricate labyrinth through the Ice Giants. Many of the passageways wound for several days’ walk through utter darkness. In the blackest depths, there were chambers known only to a precious few: the holiest Elders of the Nightland People … and Ti-Bish.
We live like a nest of rats.
Nashat frowned at his chamber. Nine paces across, it was larger than most, but the ice walls had been melting away. They’d become thin. It annoyed him that today he could hear children laughing.
He paced his chamber, wide awake, sipping warm seal broth—thick with fat—from a wooden cup. The warming fire—resting on a bed of gravel—cast his shadow over the pale blue walls like a leaping giant.
“May I go now, Elder?” Blue Wing glanced longingly at the leather door curtain.
A beautiful woman, she had broad cheekbones and an aquiline nose. Her thin lips were pursed, a simmering panic behind her eyes. She should be afraid of him. As should all Sunpath People. He had dressed her in a fine elkhide smock that hung down to her knees. The moment he’d heard the Guide had set her free, he’d had two warriors fetch her back. With a body like hers, she was much too enchanting a woman to waste.
“No, let’s talk for a time.”
“What about?”
The fear-spawned hatred in her eyes fascinated him. He smiled, finding it both enticing and amusing. “You told me that even against overwhelming numbers, the Sunpath People would fight back. How did you know?”
“They’re desperate.”
“Then perhaps they should stop plotting to kill Ti-Bish.”
“You can’t expect them to abandon beliefs as old as the world.”
He smiled. “Not only do I expect it, I demand it.”