People of the Raven(161)
The trail curved to the south of the palisade. Red Dog had to bend his head far back to see the guards who stood looking over the lip of the twenty-hand-tall wall. They watched him pass in silence, their eyes occasionally glinting in the light of the Star People.
The guard took him not to the main gate, but to a smaller side gate he’d never been through before. It opened behind the interconnected lodges where Matron Kaska had her quarters and held her village council sessions.
“Walk to the middle lodge, and remember, since you’re not expected, you’ll be watched by two tens of guards.”
“I understand.” Kaska wasn’t taking any chances since Gispaw’s death.
Red Dog passed through the gate and ducked beneath the door hanging the man indicated. The sight that met his eyes stunned him. He had seen Salmon Village many times from outside, but he’d never been allowed into the matron’s lodge. Magnificent painted shields lined the walls. He saw Cougar and Mink, Wolf and Grizzly Bear, and many other sacred animals.
“Walk,” the guard ordered.
“Forgive me, it’s just that … these are the most beautiful shields I have ever seen.”
“Yes, they are. The matron painted them herself.”
Red Dog glanced over his shoulder at the man and continued walking.
“Go through the rear door.”
When he ducked through, he entered another lodge, and a rich fruity scent filled the air. It took him a few moments to identify it: blue paint made from dried blueberries. The painter crushed the berries and mixed them with fat; the sweet fragrance smelled intense.
“Don’t move,” the guard ordered.
Red Dog heard soft calculated steps and turned to see Sand Wasp coming up behind him. The long scar across his forehead looked oddly pale in the light. He had a dangerous look about him, as though it wouldn’t take much to push him to kill.
“Hello, Red Dog. I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
“I’ve covered so much ground my legs feel like they are made of wood.”
Sand Wasp examined Red Dog carefully, noting the atlatl and bone stiletto on his belt.
“Take his weapons.”
“Yes, War Chief.”
The guard relieved Red Dog of his atlatl and stiletto, then untied his belt pouch and removed it. Finally, he patted Red Dog down. In the process he found the other two stilettos Red Dog kept tucked in his black leggings. He laid them all in a pile beside Sand Wasp’s feet.
“Can’t you find a pretty young girl to do that?” Red Dog groused. “That way I could enjoy it, too.”
“He is ready, War Chief,” the guard said as he rose.
Sand Wasp’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you, Banded Eagle. You may return to your post. I will conduct the messenger to the matron.”
“Yes, War Chief.” The guard bowed and marched down the corridor.
Sand Wasp waited until he could no longer hear the man’s steps. “Who sent you back so quickly?”
Red Dog whispered, “Rain Bear.”
Sand Wasp’s gaze bored into Red Dog’s as though searching for any hint of treachery.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” He narrowed an eye. “You hired me!”
Sand Wasp swallowed as if something were stuck in his throat. Then he smiled weakly. “Lies within lies, old friend. Treachery, double-dealing, no wonder I’m not sleeping.”
“It will be over soon.”
Sand Wasp’s eyes were full of promise. “Yes,” he said simply as he led Red Dog into the matron’s lodge, “it will.”
A woman called, “What is it, War Chief?”
“I bring a messenger, Matron.”
“You may enter.”
Sand Wasp walked up and pulled the door hanging aside.
Red Dog stepped into the lodge, Sand Wasp close behind, and looked around in genuine awe. More painted shields covered the walls, but these were even more extraordinary: glorious half-animal and half-human gods Danced around the walls as though alive. He could almost hear eerie voices coming from their open beaks and muzzles.
“I see you have had a safe, if fast, trip, Red Dog,” Kaska greeted.
Their last meeting had been at night beside a spring not far outside the gates. Red Dog had never really seen her up close in the light. A tiny, slender woman with a delicately beautiful face, she looked to have seen perhaps two tens of summers.
“I carry word from Rain Bear, Matron.”
“Yes?” She stepped forward, concern in her soft dark eyes. “You saw him? Gave him my message?”
“He wants you to bring up the rear of the procession. Be ready to pull your warriors off near the signal point at Whispering Waters Spring.”
Impulsively she reached beneath her cape and smoothed her fingers over her belted stiletto. After what had happened to her mother, he didn’t blame her for going armed.