“I hope not. He is the one man in the world I would not wish to underestimate. Especially not now when we are tired from marching all night. Our quivers are half empty, my chief. If this was some kind of diversion, it did work to weaken us.”
Cimmis rubbed his chin. “Tell our warriors to pick up every spear that can be thrown, even if the point’s broken. Then we’ll go. We won’t be safe until we’re in Wasp Village.”
White Stone lifted his ax and shouted, “Move through the meadow. Collect every spear!”
People ran through the grass, picking up spears, pulling stilettos from the bodies of dead warriors.
He turned, looking down the mountain’s flank to where a green thumb of land protruded into Raven Bay. A faint blue haze of smoke could be seen.
Their haven still lay a hard march away.
And somewhere out there, Rain Bear and his warriors were waiting.
Sixty-one
Rain Bear sat quietly in the shadowed patch of timber that overlooked Whispering Waters Spring. Below him, he could see the grassy meadow where he fully expected Cimmis to stop for a midday rest.
To his right, Evening Star crouched over the body of Cimmis’s scout. He had already been stripped, Falcon Boy donning his clothes so that he could wave the all-clear when the North Wind procession arrived at the spring. If all went according to plan, they would begin to relax, and then, as they let down their guard, Rain Bear’s warriors would charge down the hill.
The advantage of surprise would be his. Cimmis’s people would be tired, off their guard. The terrain here favored an attack, allowing momentum to carry his people through their lines. Better, the defenders would be casting uphill at rapidly moving and bobbing targets.
As soon as his people had broken the lines, Kaska’s warriors would rally to their aid. If it worked as planned, within moments, Dogrib would have taken the Four Old Women. That was the key. Hold them, and all North Wind opposition would crumble.
He glanced back at the low knob above Raspberry Creek where the curious white plume of smoke had appeared. They had seen it a hand of time ago as they moved into position. It looked like someone was burning green branches to make so much smoke. Like a beacon. But for whom? He had dispatched Sleeper and a handful of scouts to find out, fearing a flanking move by Cimmis.
“He’s dead,” Evening Star said as she stood. The scout’s body looked pathetic and forlorn in the meadow grass. “Look at him there. Just one more young man who has lost his future. All of his Dreams are gone, Rain Bear. Within days, his flesh, too, will be stripped away. By this time next year, the grass will have grown through a few white bones. Porcupines will gnaw at his remaining ribs, and mice will build a house inside his skull.”
“It’s how Song Maker made the world.” Rain Bear gave a shrug. “It’s such a waste, but what can we do? Name a single people who don’t make war, who don’t raid.”
She nodded. “I know, but I don’t have to like it.”
He glanced at the warriors who had lain down in the shade behind him. He wanted them as completely rested as they could be.
A day this warm was unusual for the middle of the winter. Just days ago snow had coated these same trees. Now the needles looked green in the bright midday sun. It felt like spring.
Evening Star cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“It sounded like someone shouted in the distance.”
He listened, hearing the soft sigh of the breeze through the fir branches, the melodic trill of a chickadee.
“Definitely shouting,” she said, her blue eyes narrowing.
Rain Bear shrugged, wondering if age had robbed him of hearing as well as flexibility in his joints and muscles. “If there’s anything to report, Talon will let us know. He and his scouts are keeping—”
“Great Chief!” Sleeper called from below. The war chief was waving for all he was worth.
Rain Bear frowned. “Curious. Stay here. I’ll go down to get his report.”
He started down the ridge, nodding to his warriors as they dozed, checked their weapons, and waited.
As he stepped into the sunshine, it was to see Sleeper’s small party of scouts weaving through the trees, followed by what seemed to be a litter. The dress of the bearers couldn’t be mistaken for anything but North Wind.
Sleeper’s expression immediately set Rain Bear on edge.
“Did you find that fire?” Rain Bear asked.
“Did we ever.” Sleeper’s eyes were wide. “You were right. It was a signal for us. We crept up the Raspberry Creek bottom, and look what we found.” He extended his arm toward the litter bearers.
Rain Bear read the awed expressions of Sleeper’s warriors. These were the men who had shadowed Ecan, definitely not callow novices.