"Who knows? Maybe he's trying to learn to dive into the Underworld himself."
Badgertail suppressed a shudder. Four times a cycle, the Starbom, priests and priestesses of the highest order, filled their black Wellpots with sacred water and dove into the Well of the Ancestors, swimming through the layers of illusion woven by First Woman to prevent the unworthy from finding the pitch-black Cave of the Tree, where she dwelt. First Woman knew the magical Songs to keep Father Sun and Mother Earth happy in their marriage. Without those Songs, Mother Earth would grow lonely, and in her despair, the crops would wither.
The chiefdom had been suffering under the brunt of Mother Earth's discontent for cycles. The large game had almost completely disappeared. He had been five summers when he had last seen an elk—though the legends told of a time when millions of them had dotted the prairies.
Badgertail had heard Old Marmot say that it was Nightshade's fault, that she'd begun to breathe death into the pots, not life. Marmot had claimed that Nightshade had blocked the entry to the Underworld through witchery, and he had admitted that he could no longer pierce the layers of illusion in the Underworld to find First Woman. Perhaps Bobcat's suggestion wasn't so farfetched. Did Tharon want to try it himself? Someone needed to do something—and fast. Oak and hickory had almost vanished from the uplands. In spring, the rivers and creeks flooded and drowned the crops, stunting their growth. The cornfields yielded barely enough to feed the thousands of hungry mouths. Old Marmot had declared that Mother Earth had fallen into despair.
The haunting notes of the flute died away as the flotilla rounded the last bend in the lake. Badgertail cocked his head. He could hear faint sounds from the village: dogs baridng, the cry of a child. That pathetic wail knotted in his gut.
"Do you think Jenos suspects that Tharon has sent a thousand warriors to ^encourage' him to turn over the tribute he claims he does not have?" Bobcat's tone was bitter.
"If Nightshade knows, Jenos knows."
Bobcat froze, his oar lifted half out of the water. "You mean you think that she's foreseen our coming? That she knows we've orders to drag her back to Cahokia with us? If you really believe that, turn these canoes around and let's go home!"
"We can't be sure. Since Marmot died, we've no priest strong enough to send his soul swinmiing to see what she's up to. We'll know soon enough."
"Yes, when Hailcloud sends arrows flying over the palisade walls to land in our bodies. I like Hailcloud, I don't want to fight him. Badgertail, this is madness!" Bobcat banged his oar against the side of the canoe.
Very quietly, Badgertail responded, "I know that, brother."
The warriors had begun to stare. Bobcat noted their gazes and muttered something inaudible before stabbing his paddle back into the quiet water.
Badgertail's eyes barely brushed Locust's, and then he focused on the horizon. A dusty lavender glow washed the heavens and spilled over onto ie land, flooding the beach
ahead. "There," he ordered, pointing to the place on the shining sands where they would land. "Put in there."
When the bow grated to a stop, he jumped out into the cold water. The others leaped out and helped him drag the narrow hull onto the sand.
Up and down the shore, canoes landed and warriors armed themselves, slinging brightly painted quivers over their shoulders. Without a word, they ghosted away into the dawn to surround the village as Badgertail had planned.
He watched Woodchuck^s warriors disperse, noted their positions and numbers, then bent to pick up his own weapons. His quiver felt heavy, pressing down on his shoulders as though already soaked with his relatives' blood. He hooked his bow on his waist thong.
Do not fight me, Jenos. No matter how good Hailcloud is, I'll win, and you know it. Give me a way out of this lunacy!
"Locust?" Badgertail called. She trotted up to him, her body taut as she searched his eyes. Badgertail gestured toward the mounds. "Bobcat and I will go alone. I want you and your men to wait here and watch for my signal. You know the plan."
"I do." Locust gestured to a hillock that jutted up from the bank. "I'll be there, watching." She waved an arm to her war party, and they followed her into the brooding shadows.
Badgertail grimaced at the east before forcing his reluctant feet up the slope toward the village. As he walked, frost from the dJ7 grass dusted his wet hide boots. He had two fingers of time before Father Sun slipped over the horizon. It would have to be enough. The Sun Chief's orders had been explicit. He wanted Badgertail and his flotilla back at Cahokia by tomorrow, with the demanded tribute.
Bobcat trudged by his side, wearing an expression of disgust like a badge of honor. Their fringed boots squished on moist sand as they crested the slope and strode out into the open expanse of winter-tan grass. Badgertail's skin prickled, vulnerable throughout the long walk to the palisade. The main gate made a dark square in the wall, defiant and dangerous. Badgertail extended his hands, palms up, in front of him, letting Jenos know that he had come to talk for one last time.