"Orenda? Orenda, stop this game and get up. Do you hear me? I'm tired of this. / said get up!"
The club came crashing down on a loom over Orenda's head, showering her with splinters of wood. She let out a shriek and covered her face.
"This way. Come on!" Lichen said and dragged Orenda behind a conical fish trap before darting out to make a dash for the window.
When Lichen lunged for the sill, he threw a conch-shell cup so that it shattered against her back and shocked her long enough for him to catch a handful of her flying black hair and jerk her to the floor. Lichen fought, trying to rip her hair from his stony grip.
Rage and terror mixed so blindingly inside Orenda that she didn't know what to do. At last the strain drove her to throw herself at him in a biting, kicking whirlwind.
''Run, L-Lichenr Orenda yelled as she clamped her teeth on the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger. He howled and struggled to shake her loose.
"You little animal!" Tharon raged. "Shall I club you to death like they do snapping turtles?"
Orenda refused to let go. She saw Lichen flit by in a swirl of green. He gasped and lifted Orenda off the ground so he could spin around and smash his war club into Lichen's head. Lichen stumbled in a circle before crumpling like a flower wilting on a hot summer day.
"Lichen!" Orenda cried. Her bite loosened, and Tharon shoved her to the floor. Orenda sat staring in horror at Lichen, who lay on her back at the foot of the bed. Blood matted the hair over her right ear and streaked her pretty face in horrifying patterns. Orenda could not take her eyes from Lichen's hands. They had curled into twitching fists.
From Orenda's tormented soul a wretched cry erupted: "No, nonono!" Unthinkingly, she sprang to her feet and attacked, trying to claw him to pieces, but he twined his fingers into the back of her red dress and held her out at arm's length, laughing hysterically.
"Oh, Orenda! You're going to be a great deal more entertaining now. I'm glad that Nightshade stole you away."
Orenda kicked and screamed her hatred.
"Stop it, Orenda. That's enough!"
She twisted, struggling against his hand. Tharon's shadow darkened her face as he bent to stare at her.
"I said, stop it!"
The polished club shone orange in the firelight as it sliced the air.
Orenda didn't even feel the blow. Lost in a floating sensation, she watclied him remove his robe, throw it onto the floor, and reach for her. As if in a dream, Orenda tried to crawl away, but his hand knotted in her collar and brutally ripped her dress. Then he forced her down, and his heavy body pinned her atop the soft fabric of his robe.
"So you thought you could get away from this by going to Nightshade. Well, you'll never get away again."
He smashed her head against the floor and used his knee to force her legs apart. Orenda screamed "Nightshade!" and clawed at his face. Tharon struck her so hard that it made her head spin nauseatingly.
"She can't save you." He laughed. "No one can."
Orenda felt his manhood stiffening against her, and madness overcame her. She shrieked, "Nightshade, Nightshade, N-Nightshade!" while her hand frantically swept the floor, searching for anything to strike him with. She touched something cool and smooth in the tangle of his discarded robe.
Her fingers tightened around the deerbone stiletto.
Badgertail took the path that angled toward the western gate. Bud worm strode beside him, his wary eyes scanning the lifeless houses that lined their route—as if he expected some malignant force to spring out and pounce on him. They had all been edgy, jumping at the slightest movement in the grass.
"Why is it so quiet?" Budworm asked. "We didn't see anyone out working the com or squash fields."
"Maybe they've taken cover."
And if they have . . . Blessed Father Sun, that means that Tharon already knows of my defeat from warriors who've come dragging in. He's probably been planning my death for days.
Badgertail clutched his club tightly.
This section of the village belonged to the Horn Spoon Clan. Where had the people gone? Window and door hangings flapped in the breeze, revealing empty interiors with baskets and pots still in place. Had they rushed away so fast that they hadn't even had the time to pack?
Wanderer and Vole followed behind them, speaking in low tones, while Flute and Longtail brought up the rear. Though night had settled on the village, only a few stars poked through the charcoal blanket above. The moon hung like a crescent of silver behind the temple mound. Over the field of thatched roofs, he could just make out the sharpened tips of the palisade poles. Warriors walked the shooting platforms.
"Do you think that Tharon could have ordered the Com-monbom to flee?" Budworm's round face looked haunted when he turned to Badgertail.