People of the Raven(120)
Love or duty? That had been the choice Tlikit had faced, and in the end, she had chosen this man over the needs and demands of her people.
“I have never truly been in love with a man.” The simple statement shocked her. She remembered the boys she had liked and teased as a maturing girl. Then, before she could catch her breath, she had suffered through her first cramps, passed her period in the menstrual hut, and been married.
Within the year she was pregnant and slowly accepting more and more of her aging mother’s responsibilities. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that she might be something else besides the matron of her village.
And now? She reached down to press on the tender spot just inside the swell of her pelvic bone. Just what did she want for her future? The wood creaked again, as if the weight were being released. She looked up, puzzled. Then heard the soft rasping of something heavy being dragged away.
Were her guards up to something? She cocked her head, hearing stealthy steps as wet moccasins scuffed the muddy ground outside her lodge.
She crawled across the floor and picked up a piece of firewood to use as a club.
Wind Woman breathed through the lodge flap, and the coals in the firepit flared, casting a fluttering halo of red light over the walls.
A voice hissed, “I know you’re alone. I just want to speak with you. Don’t be afraid.”
Her first impulse was to try to run, but he’d just club her as she ducked out the door, if that’s what he’d come for.
Where are my guards?
An obsidian knife blade eased the flap aside, and she glimpsed a face. Then he ducked inside.
He was a thick, rough-looking man. Greasy graying black hair straggled over the front of his brown cape. A slave’s garment. Despite his dress he acted like anything but a slave. She thought he might even have been of the North Wind People.
He glanced down at the firewood in her hands. “You won’t need that.”
“Who are you?”
“A messenger.”
He squinted in the dim gleam, calmly surveying the lodge. “Did you get the message? The one Red Dog was carrying?”
She swallowed hard, and jerked a quick nod, her fingers tightening on the length of firewood.
“You could be the next matron, you know. People are already starting to talk about it.”
“What do you want?”
He squatted on her bedding hides. “I’m not here for your pretty head, if that’s what you think. I’ve been sent for the boy. If you have accepted the high matron’s offer, help me smuggle the boy out of here. After that, we’ll meet up with a party of warriors, and I’ll take the two of you back to Fire Village.”
Evening Star glared at him. “Then you must be one of Cimmis’s assassins.”
A half-contemptuous chuckle came from his lips. “Maybe his best. Where’s the boy?”
She lifted an eyebrow, thinking. “Rides-the-Wind took him. He’s preparing the boy for some sort of ceremonial.”
That caught the grizzled man by surprise. “The Soul Keeper has him?”
“He’s training him,” she said firmly.
She saw the sudden hesitation, the faint worry his eyes couldn’t quite hide. Why does that news upset him so?
“Matron, I need that boy!”
Evening Star used her chin to indicate her dress—the fine one with the dentalium. It was worth a small fortune. “If you’ll forget the boy and leave here, I’ll give you that.”
He glanced at it, eyes barely flickering as they passed over the garment. “Will you help me, or not?”
Her fingers tightened around the piece of firewood. For a timeless instant, every sound and scent seemed exaggerated; the pattering of the rain on her roof, her shallow breathing, the pungent scent of the fir smoke that drifted through camp like a blue-gray snake. How had he made it this far? Rain Bear had guards everywhere.
“Tsauz is gone.”
“Where to?”
“Does it matter? He’s not here. Rides-the-Wind took him. You’ve failed. If you value your life, you’ll make a run for it immediately—though I doubt you’ll make it out of camp alive.”
He smiled and leaned forward. She could see that a large stone gorget, or pendant, hung behind his shirt. “There are so many new arrivals here every day, all I have to do is kill you, and walk out into the crowd.”
“And all I have to do is shout an alarm. Besides, I’m getting irritated by your muddy moccasins on my bedding.”
He glanced down at his moccasins and smiled. “Truthfully, Matron, I don’t have orders yet to kill you, only to learn your answer. If it’s yes, I am to get you and the boy out of here. If it’s no … well, I’ll come in the middle of the night next time. When you’re fast asleep and lost in your final Dreams.” He propped his obsidian knife on his knee with the point aimed at her chest. “Are you going to accept Matron Astcat’s offer?”