People of the Raven(158)
“My son—” Ecan began.
“Yes …” The voice seemed to come from far away.
“Will you save his life?”
A pause. “You take great chances, crossing Cimmis this way.”
Ecan said nothing.
“I see into your soul, Starwatcher. What else do you want?”
“A small favor.”
“Really?” the voice mocked.
“Our people are moving to Wasp Village. Supposedly as a rebirth of our Power.”
“But you and I know that is a lie,” Coyote added.
“Yes, to survive we need to be closer to the resources in Raven Bay. From there we can exterminate the Raven villages closest to us before raiding villages offshore. But that isn’t what concerns me now.”
“You want me to kill Cimmis and Astcat.”
Ecan shifted. Gods, how did he know?
Coyote continued. “Then, with you as the new chief, and the Council aging and dying, you will be the leader of the North Wind People. Who will be your great matron?”
“Astcat’s daughter, Kstawl.”
“Who is a child, easily intimidated to do your bidding.” Coyote laughed. “How soon do you want them dead?”
“Within days of our arrival at Wasp Village. Not before. It wouldn’t be wise to create a hole in our leadership before the village moves.”
“You are smart, Starwatcher. But what if the Raven People succeed in defeating Cimmis’s forces before you get there?”
“I must take that chance.”
“What if I could assure you that Rain Bear’s alliance was nothing more than a nuisance? Would that be worth something to you?”
A premonition ran up Ecan’s spine. “It would be worth a lot.”
“How much?”
“A great deal.”
“Ah,” the hollow voice breathed out. “When this is all over, I want Rides-the-Wind, Evening Star, Singer Pitch, Rain Bear, and most of all … Dzoo.”
“Consider them yours.”
Coyote chuckled. It sounded like brittle bones rattling in the wind. His black cape seemed to breathe, filling with air and letting it out.
Fifty-four
Astcat stepped out of her lodge and set two packs beside the door. Throughout the day slaves would be collecting the North Wind People’s last belongings and carrying them down to the plaza to bundle them up for tomorrow’s journey.
On the lava cliff high above, she heard Ecan chanting, “Come Old Woman Above, be on your way to the Dark Place.”
A veil of ground shell swirled through the cold air and swept down across the village plaza where the slaves cooked breakfast. The sweet aromas of roasted lupine root and boiling oysters rose.
Just as they did every morning, people in brightly colored capes bowed to the east before they slowly returned to the warmth of their lodges. A few stopped to speak to their neighbors.
Watching this familiar ritual made her soul ache. Long moments passed as she tried to remember, to place the sights and sounds deep in her souls. She would never see it again. The North Wind People would be on the trail before dawn tomorrow. This was the last day she would be able to placidly stand and look out over the shining majesty of Fire Village at sunrise.
“A pleasant morning to you, Great Matron,” Ecan said as he entered through the gate on his return from the cliff. He had plaited his obsidian-black hair into a single long braid. Shell, polished copper nuggets, bone, and stone jewels flashed on his wrists and around his throat.
“Good morning, Starwatcher.You delivered a beautiful prayer this morning.” She looked into his eyes, seeing the cunning gleam of what? Triumph? She had never liked him.
“I see you’re ready.” He gestured to the packs.
“I’m ready for the trip, Starwatcher. Not for what leaving here will entail.”
“Well, if our plan works, it will be the last battle. The Raven People will be broken for good.”
Wind Woman whipped her cape about her frail legs. “For good? Do you really think we can deal them such a devastating blow?”
He smiled. “Well, let us say they will be no more trouble during our lifetimes. Everything is being handled. The great chief has left nothing to chance. A signal fire last night informed him that Rain Bear’s pathetic alliance is on the move.”
Cimmis had been planning this for moons, working out every possible permutation, every last detail of the timing—who was friend, who was foe, who might be a foe. But there were so many factors he could not anticipate. Exactly when would Rain Bear attack and where?
She blinked. Already on the move? Why hadn’t her husband said something? Or had he, and her soul had been loose, flitting about like a bat when it should have been paying attention?