It made a strange picture. The tall handsome Snake Head in his regal purple clothing, trapped by little white-haired Dune dressed in a threadbare brown shirt. Dune’s deep wrinkles looked cavernous in the pale torchlight.
“Dune,” Snake Head said, “I am the new Chief. As Blessed Sun, I order you to carry out my wishes, not my—”
“What have you got planned, boy? Hmm?”
Snake Head’s handsome face went rigid. “I wish my father’s body to travel unharmed to the Humpback Butte. Don’t you realize that there will be hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who will wait alongside the road to see his body pass? Worshipers who will wish to look upon the glorious face of the Blessed Sun? But not if he doesn’t have a face, Dune!”
“You slug!” Dune jabbed his stick into Snake Head’s belly. “I didn’t come here to be ridiculed by a mere boy who has just discovered the hidden life of his private parts!”
Snake Head’s mouth gaped, and anger flashed in his eyes.
Ironwood rose and entered the room.
Snake Head glanced at him apprehensively. “I did not intend to anger you, holy Derelict. I only wished to show you the error—”
“Error!”
“That was—that was perhaps the wrong word.” Snake Head squirmed against the wall. The thlatsinas behind him seemed to be peering down with great curiosity. “Let me try putting it another way.”
Dune’s busy white brows lowered, and he raised his walking stick into striking position. “What way?”
“I was wondering if it would be possible for you to smash my father’s skull after we reach the sacred butte? That way anyone who wishes to see his face can do so.”
Dune cocked his head warily. “Why do you want your father’s soul in his body when we walk the road? Why is that so important to you?”
“Because,” Snake Head said through gritted teeth, “I—”
“You’re planning on hiring raiders to steal your father’s body, aren’t you?”
“What?” Snake Head blurted.
“It would make you a big man with Crow Beard’s enemies, wouldn’t it?” Dune glared up at Snake Head. “Who are you trying to establish an alliance with? Surely not the Tower Builders. They have nothing to offer but moldy pine cakes and ugly pottery. The Mogollon Fire Dogs? Now, there’s a traitorous possibility.”
“You’ve lost your wits, old man!” The veins stood out in Snake Head’s neck and his fingers worked as if he were on the verge of strangling the holy Derelict.
Ironwood’s blood went cold. Could it be true? The Mogollon despised the Straight Path nation, though they exchanged goods with them through neutral Traders. Why would Snake Head wish to forge a relationship with such insolent predators? They couldn’t be trusted. And they had enough cold-blooded warriors that when the alliance fell—and it would—they could use the event as a justification for full-scale war.
When Snake Head saw Ironwood’s livid face in the doorway, his hands dropped to his sides, and he said, “You don’t believe that, do you? It’s ridiculous! Those people are our enemies! I would never—”
“It would be extremely dangerous, Snake Head.” Ironwood threw his red cape over his shoulders and propped his hands on his hips. “We presently have an uneasy agreement with the Fire Dogs. We raid each other, take slaves, disrupt communication and trade, but none of us wishes outright war—and such an alliance would surely lead—”
“I don’t want war!”
Ironwood tilted his head apologetically. “I’m sure that’s true. Forgive me for interfering in your conversation.”
He bowed, and walked away, bracing his shoulder against the doorway to look out at the storm. The bellies of the clouds had turned silver. He studied them, and wondered. Dune never said anything by chance. What had his purpose been?
“Dune,” Snake Head began again, voice reasonable, “what may I give you to allow me to take my father’s body to the Humpback Butte in one piece?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“No.”
“Not even a dozen beautiful slave women? Perhaps a hundred baskets of precious jewels, turquoise, jet, malachite, coral?”
“Especially not jewels.”
Snake Head spread his arms wide in a placating gesture. His hair shimmered blue-black in the light. “Tell me what you wish, and I will provide it. You have only to name your price!”
Dune’s eyes narrowed. “And where would you get the goods? Nothing belongs to you. Not yet. By imprisoning your mother, you’ve taken away her right to distribute Crow Beard’s meager possessions. That means the duty falls to Cloud Playing. Until she gives you something with which to bribe me, you’re hardly worth my time, Snake Head.”