People of the River(14)

Bobcat's eyes swept the hall as they walked. "I've never felt Power like this," he whispered. "Not even in our own Great Temple."

"Our temple does not have Nightshade, brother."

"Not yet," Bobcat said bitterly. "Not until we've gutted Jenos completely."

Badgertail could sense her here, everywhere. Her soul lived in the cedar poles and dirt. Seeing, hearing, watching through the very fibers of the cattail-mat walls. Her presence throbbed as they neared the inner chamber, and Badgertail heard the soft beating of a drum. Or was it Nightshade's heartbeat pounding through the veins of halls? He bowed to the Six Sacred Persons again before stepping over the threshold.

"You're a bold man. Leader Badgertail." Jenos' scratchy voice echoed in the golden warmth of the chamber.

Badgertail saw no drummer, yet the faint beats continued. The drummer must live in one of the adjacent chambers. He let his gaze drift. Firebowls radiated outward from the central altar like sunbeams, twelve in all. Their light caressed the plastered walls and lit the intricate designs painted on the white clay.

The altar rose four hands high and spread twenty hands in diameter. Three steps led up to the altar and the sacred pedestal. Carved from the trunk of a long-dead cypress tree, the pedestal's brilliant red, purple, and yellow concentric circles formed a halo around the pink face of Nightshade's Spirit Helper. Just gazing at that twisted face left Badgertail uneasy. The pungent fragrance of columbine seed mixed with sweet-flag plant wandered up from the incense bowls on the altar, where Jenos stood, his arms crossed over the pedestal. A hard glint sparked in his brown eyes.

"Not bold, cousin," Badgertail corrected. "Obedient."

Jenos snorted. "Obedient to Tharon? Then you're a fool. Look at the catastrophe the boy chief has already wrought. I've heard that the babies at Hickory Mounds are starving. Doesn't that bother your soul, Badgertail? How many villages have you attacked in the past two moons? Three? Or is it four now? How long does the Sun Chief think he can keep forcing our people to feed his before we rise up against him? We would give the tribute if we could. We can't!"

Jenos stood barely ten hands tall, but he had the gruff voice and distinctive triangular countenance of all of the Sunbom. His face had been tattooed in a black band that reached from ear to ear. His thin nose rode over even thinner lips above a pointed chin, and his high cheekbones bore black crescent moons. He had pinned his shoulder-length gray hair on top of his head in a bun and adorned it with copper pins and the drooping feathers of a tan-and-white owl, the sort that lived in holes in the ground. A palm-sized shell gorget hung around his neck, blazing against the background of his golden robe.

Badgertail walked forward through the flickering glow cast by the firebowls. He noted that Bobcat remained by the door, guarding the main entry. Badgertail would watch the tiny portal that broke the wall near the point of the northernmost sunbeam.

He knelt before the altar, paying homage, then rose and pinioned Jenos with his gaze. "Where is Nightshade, Moon Chief? We've orders to take her back with us to Cahokia."

Jenos' face slackened. ''What? Why?"

"Old Marmot is dead. The Sun Chief needs a new priestess. He wants Nightshade."

Jenos clenched one shaking hand into a fist at this unexpected outrage. "He would strip us not only of our food, but of our Power? What kind of monster has he become? We've all heard the stories about Marmot and Tharon's wife. They say he killed them, you know—for finding out something forbidden. Hulin, priest at Spiral Mounds, claims that Tharon is to blame for Mother Earth turning against us. He says that Tharon has committed some terrible sacrilege and that Marmot and Singw found out about it."

Badgertail looked away. Had the rumors spread so quickly? Twelve people, including Singw and Marmot, had died only five days ago. There had been no marks on the corpses, but all had been staring wide-eyed when they were found, as though terrified by whatever specter had wrought their death. Badgertail's breathing went shallow when he recalled that terrible night. Moon Maiden had shrieked at the murders and ordered the Six Sacred Persons to unleash the winds. Thatched roofs on hundreds of houses had been ripped off. Their fragments had tumbled through the village, lumbering like beasts, and piled against the bases of the mounds. And each victim, except for Singw, had been Starbom: members of the religious elite who tended the temple and presided over critical ceremonials. Nearly the entire hierarchy had been killed.

"Where is Nightshade, Moon Chief?"

Jenos deflated a little and slouched over the edge of the pedestal. "She's not here. She's gone away for a few days. Her lover, Buknsh, was killed in an accident seven days ago. Thunderbird sent a bolt of lightning to strike the tree beneath which Bulrush slept. It fell on top of him. Nightshade . . . she needs time to mourn."