“It’s no more dangerous for him than it will be for the rest of us, Matron,” Talon replied.
Dogrib braced his elbows on his knees. “Talon is right. If our situation grows desperate, we may need to hand Tsauz over to save people we care about.”
Tsauz’s blank eyes seemed to quiver in their sockets.
Rain Bear leaned sideways to whisper, “It’s all right. We’re just talking. We haven’t made any decisions.”
“He must go along,” Dogrib said. “What if we cannot free Pitch and Dzoo? Cimmis will certainly use them against us. Tsauz gives us a bargaining piece.”
“Cimmis will not bargain for the boy,” Evening Star said. “Tsauz will only be useful if we are bargaining with Ecan. Or have you forgotten Coyote’s visit not so long ago?”
Rain Bear nodded. “Tsauz is only valuable if we can wring concessions from Ecan. And who is to say he’s safer here? At least if he goes with us, he’ll be surrounded by friends. Here he’s easy prey for the next Wolf Tail who prowls through.”
Rides-the-Wind’s gaze turned to the pebble-strewn beach where the canoes were drawn up. There, on the landing, refugees walked the shore looking for crabs or anything else that was edible. Beyond the soft whisper of the surf, an odd stillness cloaked the camps.
He propped his walking stick and said, “Perhaps it would be helpful if you asked Tsauz what he thinks.”
Tsauz blinked.
Rain Bear’s brows lowered, but he said, “Tsauz, should we take you with us?”
Tsauz licked his lips. “If you leave me here, you will have to leave fifty warriors to guard me, won’t you?”
“Probably.”
He lowered his gaze to assure Rain Bear he meant no disrespect. “You will need those warriors in the battle.”
“I would rather not risk having you hurt, Tsauz. I promised I would make sure you got home, and I must try to do that.”
“I—I would rather go with you.”
Evening Star tilted her head. “Why is that?”
“Two reasons: If you do not take me, Cousin, my father will assume I am dead. Second, Coyote will find it harder to kill me when I’m with you.”
Dogrib nodded, and his pale hair glinted in the firelight. “Smart boy.”
Wind Woman gusted through the forest. Rides-the-Wind shivered and tugged at the deerhide over his shoulders.
Rain Bear exhaled hard. “There is one last thing we must plan for.”
“Yes?” Talon asked.
“Kaska may be working with Cimmis.”
Evening Star said, “No, she wouldn’t. She’s not—”
Rain Bear held up a hand to halt her words. “If she is, at a critical point in the battle, her warriors will turn on us.”
Dogrib nodded. “It would make a perfect trap.”
“I know Kaska. We almost grew up together. She wouldn’t do such a thing,” Evening Star insisted stubbornly.
“Wouldn’t she?” Dogrib asked, “Forgive me, Matron, but you have no idea what pressure the Council might have put upon her. What if Coyote drops in on her every so often to remind her how simple it would be to kill her family? Her warriors are another matter. Will they obey her when she orders them to fight against their chief?”
Evening Star stared at him for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes, you’re right, War Chief. We must plan for that eventuality.”
Everyone started talking at once, and Tsauz’s blind eyes turned to Rides-the-Wind.
He walked over and lowered himself to the mat beside the boy. “What is it, Tsauz?”
Tsauz felt for Rides-the-Wind’s ear and pulled it down to his mouth. He whispered, “Thunderbird told me something.”
When the boy didn’t continue, he asked, “What did he tell you?”
“That Rain Bear doesn’t know how to win.”
Rides-the-Wind pulled away and looked down at the boy. “Did Thunderbird say how?”
Tsauz swallowed anxiously. “No. I just have to be there. But you can’t tell Rain Bear I said so.”
“No, of course not,” Rides-the-Wind said.
In the distance, over Fire Mountain, thunder rumbled.
Tsauz spun around to look. “Did you hear that?”
The old Soul Keeper said, “I heard. What did Thunderbird say?”
“It’s beginning,” Tsauz whispered.
Sister Moon had risen into the sky; her gleam flooded the forest, shimmering in the trees and outlining every dark boulder. Shadows fell across the forest floor like a tracery of black lace.
Rain Bear hunkered on a fallen log across from Red Dog and studied his old friend. The silver glow reflected from the thick coating of grime on the battered warrior’s face. He smelled dankly of sweat, and his gray-streaked black hair straggled around his face as though he hadn’t combed it in days.