It was Bark Hare who said, “Yes, Great Chief. I do.” He looked at the others. “Gods, yes. It’s up to us. We’ve got to lay the ambush.”
“That’s it.” Rain Bear slapped his shoulder. “Hurry. We don’t have that much time. Gather as many spears as you can. We’re going to need them.”
He quickly placed his warriors, judging which route his absent warriors would take when they fled the fight. Looking down the hill, he could see where Dogrib should be, the war chief still assuming that the plan was working.
“When we go, you run there!” Rain Bear pointed to the gap in the rocks. “After we pass, we set up another ambush. Remember how it works?”
The craziness of battle had been replaced with a rabid excitement. He’d held them.
Even as he laid his trap, the first of the Raven warriors, a man streaming blood from a head wound, came pelting past. He was but the first of a flood.
Up on the ridge, Rain Bear knew that White Stone had called in his reinforcements. Kaska’s warriors would have joined the fight.
Now warriors fled in absolute panic past Rain Bear’s position. As the first of the North Wind warriors came whooping down in pursuit, Rain Bear stood, signaling his warriors. Each picked a target and cast.
Rain Bear turned and ran for all he was worth.
A flood of warriors rolled down the hill with him. “The gap!” he called, pointing. “Make for the gap!”
He shot a quick glance over his shoulder. The North Wind warriors were close, but some slowed as they stopped to kill a straggler.
“My warriors!” he screamed against his tearing lungs. “Stay with me! Stay close and don’t lose your weapons!”
He led the way through the gap, followed by wheezing and gasping men. As he passed the rocks, he could see Dogrib, a spear balanced in his hand.Yes, blessed gods, Dogrib was where he should be.
Past the rocks, Rain Bear pointed to the stony outcrop below. “There! We’ll set the next ambush there!”
Lungs laboring, he scrambled up into the rocks in time to look back. Screams erupted from the gap as Dogrib and his men stood, bodies twisting as they speared the first pursuing North Wind warriors.
Then Dogrib and his three remaining companions turned and ran for all they were worth, headed straight past Rain Bear’s outcrop.
The race would be long, fraught with danger, and if he failed to cross the finish line ahead of Cimmis, a great many people were going to die.
Sixty-five
Tsauz sat beside Matron Astcat and listened to her labored breathing. She hadn’t moved at all since they’d arrived in the spacious new lodge in Wasp Village. The place smelled of sappy wood, green bark, and freshly cut vines. Packs had been placed along the walls, and a row of magnificent shields stood across from him. He had run his fingers over them, learning their size and shape. On one, the figure of Killer Whale had been created out of round beads.
Longing tingled in his chest. He needed to speak with her, to ask her advice.
“Just fill Matron Astcat’s bowl with broth,” Evening Star had said. “No meat.” Then she had gone back outside to ensure that the prisoners were safely locked away and guarded. War Chief Tsak’s shouts of rage and disbelief as he was marched off at spear point still echoed in Tsauz’s ears.
Tsauz lifted his pointed chin, and the cold ocean breeze tousled his shoulder-length black hair. The rich scent of fish soup made his empty stomach growl, but he was saving it for Astcat.
A flash.
Tsauz tilted his head and stared toward what he assumed to be Mother Ocean. The roar of her voice grew louder, and tiny fleeting spots of brightness lit up the dark curtain behind his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Tsauz?” Rides-the-Wind asked as he entered the lodge.
“Are—are the Thunderbirds coming?” Fear stung his veins.
“Yes. Why?”
He swallowed hard. “I see them.”
“See who?”
“Their flashes are bouncing around behind my eyes.”
Rides-the-Wind tucked a bowl into Tsauz’s hands and grunted as he sat down. “Eat, Tsauz. If Thunderbird is coming for you, you’ll need to have a full stomach.”
Tsauz felt for his horn spoon and tasted the soup. The flavors of the fish and venison pemmican created a mouth-watering combination.
Rides-the-Wind slid across the sand, and the matron’s blankets rustled.
Around a mouthful of pemmican, Tsauz asked, “What are you doing, Elder? May I help?”
“No, you just eat. I’m arranging the matron’s head on my lap so that I can try to feed her.”
After a few instants Rides-the-Wind said, “Matron Astcat, I’m going to put a few drops of broth in your mouth.”