Keresa had picked a deep kettle, one of the depressions in the tundra that had formed after the retreat of the ice. Here, out of the wind, small fires consumed dry moss, wormwood, and willow stalks. Above them, the wind howled around the rocky outcrops and seemed to shake the very Star People so high above.
“How are you feeling?” Keresa asked.
Across from her, Kakala hunched under a caribou-fawn cape. He shot her a look of annoyance. “Everything aches.”
She grinned, snugging her blanket—made of arctic fox hides—close about her shoulders. Around them, the rest of the warriors slept wrapped in hides, or huddled over the low fires, feeding just enough twigs, moss, and collected dung to keep the coals hot.
“I see. So, you’d prefer to be back in the cage?”
“I’d prefer to have you shut up.” Then he relented, a strained smile curling his lips. “No, actually, I prefer your voice to the ones in the cage.”
She lifted an enquiring eyebrow.
He gave a nervous shrug. “Just like last time … Well, I heard things. Voices.”
“That told you what?”
“Nothing that would make either of us feel better.” He changed the subject. “The Guide is an interesting sort.”
“He is.” She tucked the soft white hide around her chin. “But I’m more confused now than I was before. He doesn’t give the orders; Nashat does.”
“Maybe he’s still just the same old Idiot that everyone thought he was.”
“No, Kakala. He knows things. He said that you and I were the binding. Something about the two of us tying everything together. That somehow, we are supposed to heal things.”
Kakala gave her a disdainful stare. “Of course. But first we’d better destroy Headswift Village, kill Windwolf, and find Skimmer. Who we both know was delivered to Nashat in the first place.”
Keresa gave him a flat stare. “She’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“I asked around. Nashat sent a party of Karigi’s warriors in one night and clubbed all the Nine Pipe women to death.” She stared miserably into the flames. “The story was that the Council didn’t want to feed them.”
“Clubbed them to …” Kakala slowly shook his head. “Nashat kept Blue Wing. Remember her?”
“One of the women Goodeagle raped.”
“Nashat sent her to the Guide instead of Skimmer.” His expression hardened. “So, what happened to the bodies?”
“They were dragged out into the tundra for the wolves.”
“Great. So we have to find a dead woman for the Guide.”
“We’ll have to tell Ti-Bish the truth when we get back. But first things first. Do you have a plan for attacking Headswift Village?”
He made a face. “Find Goodeagle.”
Keresa set her cup down and rose to her feet.
Kakala watched her walk from one pile of sleeping hides to the next; finally she spoke to someone. When he didn’t get up, she kicked him hard and a soft grunt sounded. Louder, she said, “Get up. The war chief wishes to speak with you.”
A string of curses rose, but then Goodeagle crawled out of the hides. Very tall, with long black hair, he had a “pretty” face for man. It was just one of many things Kakala despised about him.
Goodeagle walked to Kakala’s fire and impertinently asked, “What do you want?”
Keresa wanted to smack him in the back of the head.
Kakala ignored it. “Survivors from the Sunpath bands are flocking to Headswift Village. They—”
“I doubt it,” Goodeagle interrupted. “Maybe the old and very young are flocking there for refuge, but any man, woman, or child who can wield an atlatl is running to join Windwolf’s warriors. The man inspires loyalty the likes of which you will never know.”
Kakala leveled a hard finger. “Don’t interrupt me again, or I’ll forget the part of our bargain that says you get to live.”
Goodeagle stared at him. “Then don’t lie to me. I know my people.”
“I hope you know your former best friend as well. You must have some idea what he’s up to.”
“Where are his warriors?”
“Leaving the caves I heard that Karigi ambushed them on the trail west of Spineshank camp. Fighting was spirited. Silt managed to withdraw most of them. Karigi stopped to lick his wounds. When he sent his scouts out, they found several trails. All were headed west toward the Tills.”
Goodeagle squeezed his eyes closed for several heartbeats.
Keresa watched the man. He had to be thinking about which friends had been killed. Perhaps he was telling himself it would never have happened if he hadn’t betrayed his best friend at Walking Seal Village.