"I don't believe it!" she shouted. "I quit! I'm not playing with you anymore."
Badgertail laughed. He slapped her on her bare shoulder as he stooped to pick up his pole. "I'm just lucky today." More softly, he added, "Maybe Bobcat's helping me."
Locust searched Badgertail's face worriedly before lowering her gaze to the hard-packed ground. "There's nothing you could have done, Badgertail. Stop blaming yourself." She picked up the chunkey stone, then marched the short distance to retrieve her pole.
Badgertail rolled his pole in his fingers. The hollowness in his chest had begun to throb, like the punky sound of the mortars in the distance. He studied the pink clouds that drifted westward over the village.
Nothing I could have done. "I—I know," he lied.
Locust came up behind him and put a comforting hand on his forearm. "I could use some breakfast."
"So could I. Too bad we don't have Primrose to cook for us. His com cakes are wonderful."
Locust nodded. Primrose had taken Green Ash to see the birthing women this morning. Green Ash had been having severe pains for two days. Badgertail understood Locust's anxiety about the safety of her sister-in-law. The child had swelled Green Ash's belly so much that rumors had been flashing through the village that she might die.
Locust gave him a weak smile. "Well, perhaps tomorrow . . . if Primrose is home."
"You may be an aunt tomorrow," Badgertail replied encouragingly and patted her on the back. Her face went wan, filled with fear.
As they started off across the plaza, Badgertail noticed Tharon standing on the top step of the temple mound. "Locust," he called. "Wait."
"What is it?" She followed his gaze and fell silent.
Tharon stood rigid at the crest of the mound, his face set like granite, his red-and-gold garments shining. Behind him, the temple rose in a glittering wealth of copper-studded walls and roof.
"He looks angry," Locust observed.
"Yes, he does."
"They say he murdered young Shagbark yesterday. For no reason."
"I heard that, too. I think he's finally slipped into complete madness. Ketde told me—"
Badgertail stopped in mid-sentence. Tharon had plunged down the steps, taking them three at a time. Badgertail's gut writhed when Tharon sprinted across the plaza toward them.
"Locust, give me your lance!" Tharon ordered, and jerked it roughly from Locust's extended hand. "Badgertail, I want you to play chunkey with me."
"Of course, my Chief," Badgertail responded with a slight bow. He gave Locust an apprehensive glance as he reached for the chunkey stone. She gave him the stone and the arm band, but let their fingers touch for a moment—a warning, a gesture of silent support.
Tharon fidgeted beside him, stabbing Locust's pole into the ground and roughly jerking it out. Locust cringed at the mistreatment of the pole she had taken such care to breathe Spirit into.
"Do you want to play on the side of Wolf Slayer, my Chief?"
Tharon cocked his head slowly. His right eye twitched.
"No. I hate Wolf Slayer. He condemned people to this world where everything is so hard. I'll fight on Bird-Man's side. He never wanted humans to enter this world."
Badgertail inclined his head obligingly and walked back to the field, Tharon tramping along behind him. "Should I roll the stone, my Chief, or do you want to?"
"You do it." Tharon set himself, lifting his lance as he bent forward. "Go on. Throw it!"
Badgertail flung the stone, and Tharon charged forward. Badgertail quickly caught up. When they reached the throwing line, they both cast, but Badgertail deliberately threw his pole short. He loped leisurely down the playing field, letting Tharon take the lead. When Tharon's pole landed twenty hands closer than Badgertail's, Badgertail clapped approvingly. "An excellent throw!"
As they walked toward their poles, Badgertail watched Tharon closely. The Sun Chief's eyes roiled with such dark thoughts that Badgertail's skin started to creep.
"I hate Cahokia. Did you know that, Badgertail? I hate my home."
"No, I didn't know that," he answered lamely.
As Badgertail picked up both poles and the chunkey stone, Tharon blurted, "You're always letting me win this game, Badgertail. Why is that? Don't you think I can beat you fairly?"
"I didn't let you win, my Chief."
"You did so. I've never seen you miss by so far!"
"I've been playing all morning. I'm tired. Maybe we should compete again later in the day. My aim will be back by then."
Tharon scuffed the toe of his cattail sandal on the ground, looking much like a petulant child. "No, I—I don't want to. I'm not feeling well."