People of the Silence(90)

Leafhopper sat beside her, put an arm around her, and leaned her head against Thistle’s shoulder. As if from another world, tears dropped onto Thistle’s hand. Cool, so very cool on her skin.

The trembling began in Thistle’s jaw and spread to her whole body.

“Oh, no,” Leafhopper whispered.

She got to her feet and ran. Thistle saw her go down the ladder into the kiva. She emerged carrying some blankets. She draped another two around Thistle’s shoulders and sank to the ground again. Hunching forward, Leafhopper Sang softly. The Death Song.…

Thistle watched unmoving: a woman in a Spirit trance. After several moments, she pulled Leafhopper against her.

Thistle rocked the young woman in her arms.

… Rocked and rocked.





Twenty

A clatter on the roof woke Night Sun. She slitted her eyes, preparing for an onslaught of light. Every time one of the slaves entered, the sudden brightness blinded her. She sat up—and stiffness shot pain through her muscles. The cold had eaten into the very marrow of her bones. As the pine-pole roof cover slid back, stars blazed. The ladder descended. It struck the ground with a dull thump.

“Night Sun?”

“Ironwood?” she blurted.

He climbed down, carrying a pack. “I mustn’t stay long. Too many people know I’m here.”

“I understand.” She swallowed to ease the ache in her throat. “How did you get past the guard?”

“I still have the loyalty of many of our warriors. In the case of Blue Corn, who’s guarding you tonight, I rescued him from a Fire Dog raiding party once.”

The gleam of starlight after pitch blackness made the room seem as bright as daylight. Ironwood had braided his hair and coiled it into a bun at the back of his head. The silver sheen highlighted the planes of his oval face, falling across his high cheekbones and flat nose, playing in his slanting brows. His bright red shirt, turquoise pendant, and blue leggings glowed dully in the starlight. She noticed grimly that he had a bow and quiver over his shoulder and that his war club hung at his waist.

“I brought you two blankets,” he said as he knelt beside her and opened the pack. “And food and water.”

“Snake Head let you?”

“No. He’s gone. I don’t know where.”

She grabbed for the first blanket and snugged it around her shoulders. “Oh, this feels good. Did you warm it before you brought it?”

“Yes, I knew you’d be cold,” he said as he draped the second blanket around her shoulders. “I hung them beside my fire while I spoke with Dune and Sternlight, then I folded them and came straight over.”

Night Sun clutched them closed at her throat and delighted in the prickly sensation of heat seeping into her body. “Dune is here? In Talon Town?”

“He came with me.” Ironwood sank to the floor beside her and sighed. He looked very tired. Deep lines grooved the skin around his eyes.

“I know you’re not all right,” he said, “but are you well enough to talk?”

Night Sun ran her slim fingers through her long hair. “Do you believe him, that the child is alive?”

Ironwood bowed his head. “I knew the child was alive, Night Sun.”

“You…?”

“Yes.”

A dull thudding began in her chest, followed by a hollow sickness in her gut. All these years, her child had been alive. “Sternlight … he helped you hide the child?”

He nodded. “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. He knew how frightened you were, what Crow Beard would do to you if he found out. Sternlight made certain he was the only one present at the birth so that he could sneak the child away and see that no one—not even you—knew that it lived.”

She propped her elbows on her knees and gripped handfuls of her thick graying black hair. Thoughts tumbled over each other in her head.

“I have been paying for the child’s rearing,” Ironwood said softly. “The family has taken very good care of her.”

Night Sun stared dumbly at him. It took several moments for his meaning to dawn. “Her?” She scrambled to her knees facing him. “But Sternlight told me—”

“I know he did. But it was a girl.”

Hallowed Spirits, have I seen her? My eyes passing over her as if she were a stranger?

“Is she here, Ironwood? In the—”

“No. I sent her away. It was the best way to keep her safe.”

She fumbled for words as the horror became clear. “Then … oh, no. Blessed gods, no! Then an innocent boy is going to die! Is that what you’re telling me? Sternlight lied to protect our daughter, and condemned—”

“That’s what I’m telling you.” He met her probing gaze. “Give me a few moments to explain. You don’t understand, I—”