“Well, I had another difficult meeting with the Elders. They needed you there to guide them, my wife.” He hoped she could hear. “They dismissed our argument and voted to continue the attacks.” He exhaled hard, feeling hollow. “I have been ordered to send the Wolf Tails after any North Wind person who has sided with the Raven People.”
Astcat made a tiny sound of dismay, but she still stared blankly across the room. Her fingers, however, had tightened on her yellow leather skirt. Cimmis gently tucked locks of her gray hair behind her ears—she’d hate looking so untidy.
“I explained your fear that more attacks might force the Raven clans into an alliance against us, but they refused to listen.” He clenched his good fist and made a face that resembled Old Woman North’s scowl. In a voice that sounded very much like hers, he croaked, “They owe it to us! It’s ours and we need it!”
He lifted her hand, kissed her fingers, then clutched them to his heart.
Moccasins shuffled on the trail outside, and a man called, “Chief Cimmis, I bring a message.”
Cimmis gently removed his arm from Astcat’s shoulder, made certain the hides supported her, then went to his door. As he shoved the hide aside, a rush of cold air swept in, rattling the shields.
“Yes?”
Gray-streaked black hair draped Red Dog’s burly shoulders and framed his round face. In the firelight, his bent nose seemed to jut unnaturally to the left. He wore a tattered deerhide cape and carried a stone-headed war club. He’d clearly been running since Cimmis had first dispatched him; his face was streaked with dirt and soot, and his legs trembled.
“Forgive me for arriving so late, my Chief,” Red Dog said, and bowed. “As ordered, I passed Starwatcher Ecan’s party. He wished you to know that they were victorious at Shell Maiden Village. They took the tribute owed us and are heading to Sandy Point Village.”
“Sandy Point Village? Why? They’ve sent their tribute.”
Red Dog brushed a stringy mass of graying black hair from his brow. “Ecan said he wished to pass through Sandy Point Village on his way to the Moon Ceremonial at War Gods Village.”
Cimmis smoothed his hand over his gray beard. Ecan always attended the Moon Ceremonial as a sign of support for Weedis the North Wind Healer, whom the Four Old Women had sent to live in the village. This journey, however, was different. Weedis had defied the Four Old Women, refused to demand that her villagers turn over the tribute they owed. For that reason—no matter the wisdom of the act—Ecan had other orders.
“Did Starwatcher Ecan tell you why he was going through Sandy Point Village?”
“No, my Chief.”
Cimmis could see the reserve in his warrior’s eyes. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea?” He smiled. “Go on, speak.”
“Chief Rain Bear … well, I knew him well when he served here. He has struggled to keep the peace. Starved his village to pay tribute. His wife is recently dead. It would not be smart to act in a way that would alienate him.”
“You and I agree on that. What of Rides-the-Wind?” Cimmis asked. “I expected him to return with you.”
Red Dog winced. “He’s not coming.”
“Why not?”
“My Chief, I am only a messenger.”
“Yes, yes.”
“He says he may never return.”
Cimmis felt a cold wind blow past his soul. “Did he give you any reason?”
Red Dog, nobody’s coward, swallowed hard, a pained look on his face. “He said you and Ecan were dancing on the edge of the abyss, my Chief. And that if you weren’t careful, you would both fall.”
Cimmis narrowed an eye. “I will flay the skin from his body.” To Red Dog: “And the young matron?”
“Rides-the-Wind was being very cantankerous. He said he would not curse Evening Star for Ecan. In fact, he’ll be praying for her safety.”
Cimmis rubbed his wrinkled brow. He had a headache building. “I shall show him a thing or two about falling into the abyss when I use cooking stones to roast his intestines in his living body.” He paused. “I need you to find Wind Scorpion.”
Red Dog shifted uncomfortably. “My Chief, I’ve been running for days.”
“I must see him now. Then get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow morning I want you to run a message back to Ecan. New orders from the Council.”
“Yes, my Chief.”
Red Dog bowed and shuffled toward the slave lodges that huddled together lower on the mountain.
Cimmis let the flap fall closed. He felt old beyond his four tens and seven summers.
Every muscle felt pulled from its socket as Red Dog made his way across Fire Village to the low lodge where Wind Scorpion lived. By the gods of the sky, that had been a close one! He had seen the anger boiling behind Cimmis’s eyes when he’d been told that Rides-the-Wind wasn’t returning. The threat Cimmis had made about cooking the old man’s guts hadn’t been an idle one.