People of the Raven(162)
“Is that all?” Kaska asked.
Red Dog carefully laid out Rain Bear’s battle plan, squatting to re-create the map Rain Bear had drawn for him. “So, there it is, Matron.”
Her red-and-black cape hissed as she walked across the floor. “I thank you for your service, Red Dog. Are you heading back to Rain Bear tonight?”
“No, Matron.” He winced as he stood on his aching legs. “I am making one last desperate attempt to rescue Dzoo and the young Singer Pitch.”
Her dark eyes fixed on his. “That may be very dangerous. Given that Fire Village is packing for the move, your absence has surely been noted, and commented on.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “I have lived for a whole turning of seasons because of Dzoo-noo-qua. Now that the pieces are being cast in the final game, I must be there for her.”
Kaska placed a small hand on his shoulder. “You need to know that my spies tell me Cimmis has ordered your death.”
He gave her a gap-toothed grin. “Then I had better hope I’m not caught before I’m done.”
She clapped her hands. “Sand Wasp, provide Red Dog with a bag full of rations. Then have one of our warriors escort him to the trail.”
Sand Wasp nodded. “This way.”
Red Dog took one last look at the shields—he swore their eyes followed him—before he ducked beneath the hanging.
Once outside, Sand Wasp called, “Banded Eagle?”
The guard instantly ducked under the hanging and ran across the lodge. “Yes, War Chief?”
“Please see that this man is provisioned and escorted back out the side gate.”
Banded Eagle bowed. “Yes, War Chief.”
Sand Wasp watched Red Dog disappear beneath the far door hanging, then softly said, “He is gone, Matron.”
“Come and speak with me.”
Sand Wasp entered her lodge and stood stiffly, waiting for orders. Her perfect triangular face had gone tight with worry.
She searched Sand Wasp’s face, as if the answers lay there. “What are we going to do? Cimmis has ordered me to have our warriors march near the front of the procession. What excuse can I give for marching in the rear?”
“We leave before dawn tomorrow. He will not wish to alter his plans. Not this close to our departure.”
“No,” she said softly, and her brows slanted down over her dark eyes.
He could see her thoughts whirling, trying to decide. “This plan of Rain Bear’s, is it a good one?”
She nodded, staring down at the squiggles Red Dog had drawn in the dirt. “Well, we are committed, then. May Gutginsa bless us with luck.”
Sand Wasp said, “Matron, perhaps it is time—”
“No, not yet,” she said softly, and bowed her head. “I’ll tell our most trusted warriors when the time is right. But not yet, Sand Wasp. The longer they know, the longer they have for second thoughts. Cimmis and the Council would pay a matron’s ransom to anyone who would betray us.”
“Yes,” Sand Wasp agreed absently, “at least that much.”
“I will assign warriors to spread the word just before we reach Whispering Waters Spring.”
“Yes, Matron.” He stood stiffly, jaw clamped.
“Is that fear I see in your eyes?”
“Yes, Matron. Betrayal is a frightening thing.”
Red Dog yawned, barely aware of his breath frosting on the cold air. The night was like charred sap: thick and black. He carefully skirted the trail that led from Salmon Village up the mountain to fire Village. If guards were out, he had to hope the inky blackness would hide him.
Gods, he was bone-weary, his thoughts thicker than matted buffalo wool. He plodded on, one weary step after another. His hips, knees, and ankles ached. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the end.
He had taken this last trip without the permission of either Cimmis or Ecan. Kaska’s warning that Cimmis had ordered him killed hadn’t come as a surprise. It was a miracle that he’d gone undiscovered for this long. But how was he going to get past the gates, overcome the guards, and sneak Dzoo and Pitch out?
If only he could clear his head for a moment, shake the terrible need to sleep from his body for one more day.
“There you are, old friend,” a familiar voice called from the trees at the side of the trail.
Red Dog stopped, peering into the shadows cast by a lonely stand of firs. “What are you doing out here?”
“Caught me one of Rain Bear’s spies. Want to see?”
One of Rain Bear’s spies? Which one? And, more to the point, what was he going to do about it? This close to the beginning of the attack, it could mean disaster.
Red Dog stepped into the shadows, blinking in the inky darkness. “I can’t see a thing. Let’s drag him out onto the trail where—”