"But if I wanted to leave, I could turn rule over to one of my cousins and go."
"You could. Yes."
"No, that would never work. You know it wouldn't, Badgertail. My cousins are too young. They couldn't keep order."
"Probably not."
"Only I can do it. That's why I must stay inside the walls, where it's safe. You all need me. Every one of you."
Tharon's eyes misted as he stared at a red-tailed hawk that hovered over Cahokia Creek. The bird's tail feathers shone like polished coral when it angled down through a broad band of sunlight. "Everything in the world is free except me," Tharon whispered.
Badgertail wiped at the dust that covered his muscular arm. The chiefdom balanced on a knife's edge—wavering between existence and nonexistence—and Tharon whined about his own freedom? In the villages beyond Cahokia, rage, hatred, and desperation seethed, fit to explode in revolt. Tharon ought to know full well why his own freedom had been denied. Especially after the insane battle-walks he had ordered last winter.
Tharon lifted the hem of his red-lace tunic to peer at the clouds through the delicate weave. "Nightshade doesn't love me, Badgertail. I've always loved her. Even when we were children. I don't know what I did to make her hate me."
"I don't think she hates you. She's confused right now, and lonely. Give her more time to get over the loss of Bulrush, then maybe ..." Badgertail fought to keep his true feelings hidden. Nightshade hated Tharon more than anyone else he knew.
"But what if she doesn't come to love me?" Tharon lowered the lace so that it hooked on his copper hair clips and fell in a veil over his face. In the gusty breeze, the edges fluttered. "That's a bad question to ask someone like you, isn't it, Badgertail? You've never been in love. You can't possibly understand what I'm feeling."
Badgertail let out a slow breath. "I was married once. It didn't work." Tharon was too young to remember the rumors about Badgertail and Locust—thank Father Sun. "War has been my passion."
"War? She's not a very warm lover. Aren't you lonely too, Badgertail?"
"Sometimes. I think all humans are."
"But it's worse for warriors, isn't it? I mean, it must be hard to trust people when you know you might have to ... to kill them someday. And then you lose so many friends. Like Bobcat."
"Yes," Badgertail responded hollowly.
Tharon seemed to sense that he had struck a sore spot. He unhooked the lace and brought it down, staring intently at Badgertail. "Did I tell you that I've decided to adopt Bobcat as a full member of the Sunbom? I've already told the Starbom to prepare a special burial for him inside the palisades. Did I tell you?" He turned sideways eagerly. "Oh, it will be grand, Badgertail. Just you wait."
"Thank you, my Chief. I—"
A deep, beautifiil voice rose in Song from within the Star Chamber. Badgertail stopped speaking, startled that anyone was in the structure. Tharon whirled, staring in terror for an instant before he leaped to his feet and ran. His lace tunic billowed behind him as he swerved past the pole bearing Jenos' head and vanished around the front of the temple.
Badgertail's muscles tightened when understanding dawned. That rich voice belonged to Nightshade. Had she overheard their conversation? Is that what had frightened Tharon so, that she might have heard him say he loved her? Or had something else prompted Tharon's abrupt departure? Not that it mattered. Badgertail sank back in relief that he was gone.
Smoke spiraled up from the Star Chamber, redolent with the tang of burning cedar.
Badgertail eased down on his back in the cool grass and granted himself one hand's worth of time to drift with the beautiful lilt of Nightshade's Song. In the distance, he could see laborers digging a hole in the farthest ridge-top mound. Dust swelled around them while they worked to prepare Bobcat's resting place.
Hurry, Aloda!" Black Birch, the war leader of Spiral Mounds, yelled as he pushed aside the door-hanging to Aloda's bed chamber. "They are already upon us! They sneaked up the drainages like cowering dogs!" He ran away.
Aloda threw his long shirt over his gray head, reached for his bow and quiver, then ducked outside into the night.
The cold ground bit at his bare feet as he followed the swaying shadow of Black Birch across the top of the mound. Starlight drenched the world, turning the thatched temple into a hunching beast. Before he had even rounded the comer of the lodge, he heard screams. They swelled in the darkness— jagged with terror, coming from nowhere, from everywhere at once.
"Traitors! Filthy, treasonous dogs! They are worse than Badgertail!" Black Birch proclaimed. He joined a huddle of warriors who peered over the edge of the mound, surveying the happenings below. "At least with Badgertail, you can understand his reasons, but this . . . !"