If the “Prophet” remained, however, and led Smoke Shield even further into her mad schemes, then perhaps there would be a way.
He pursed his lips, nodding, seeing how it might be done.
“Blood Skull,” he murmured. “I need Blood Skull. He hates Smoke Shield enough as it is.”
Was it his imagination, or did he hear wings rasping in the air as he hurried for the stairs?
Twenty-six
Old White sighed, stretched his aching back muscles, and rolled his arms as he stepped out into the frosty night and away from the Albaamaha Council House. Low clouds scudded from the north, breaths of wind tugging at him. His entire body longed to do nothing more than lie down and sleep. He yawned as he looked back at the Council House. Yellow light glowed from the doorway, people standing around in knots, speaking in low voices.
Off to one side, Trader talked to Whippoorwill. Was it Old White’s imagination, or did a large black wolf lurk in the inky shadows behind her? He blinked, craning his neck, but the thing had faded into the night.
I must be tired. I’m seeing things.
Lotus Root emerged, squinted in the darkness, and walked over to him, the bulky fabric sack cradled in her arms. She stopped an arm’s length away, as if uncertain.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Whatever it is that you wish to say to me.”
“I am still uncertain.”
“So are we all,” Old White agreed.
“Did you mean what you said in there?”
“I did.”
She looked away, as if searching for something in the night. “If only I could believe Whippoorwill’s vision is true.”
“It will be.”
“A great deal remains to be seen.”
He smiled. “Do you understand what you must do? How difficult it will be?”
“I do.” She looked up, arms clutching the fabric pack to her chest. “How do you think she found him?”
“She said he called to her . . . that she dove down to find him.”
“How could she have known?”
“Because it is a thing of Power.” Old White glanced at Whippoorwill’s slim form. “I think your people would be well served to follow her counsel.”
Lotus Root gave him a level stare. “You know, Chikosi, I will never forgive you.”
“I know, and I understand.” He smiled. “But I have learned many things in my travels: One is that nothing is forever. Not even Split Sky City, though the Chikosi and Albaamaha may go on for a long time yet.”
“Then I shall see you when I am called.” With that she turned, walking off into the darkness, her bundle clutched to her chest.
Amber Bead had waited discreetly. “Seeker?”
“Yes?”
“The runners have been dispatched. We shall know soon enough if what you say about Great Cougar is true.”
“If Trader and I are wrong, it is an inconvenience. Assuming we are right, however, it will save everyone a great deal of grief.”
Amber Bead scuffed at the dirt with his foot. “No matter. We still have a great deal to overcome. It does not pay to underestimate Smoke Shield.” He looked back at Trader. “You are wagering that the Council will take the word of a stranger and a disgraced Chikosi . . . Chief Clan though he might be.”
“That is true.”
The old man sighed, looking back at the mikkos. “Come the morning, there will be doubts.”
“There always are.”
Amber Bead shook his head. “I have never placed much faith in Power. Too often its name has been invoked to the detriment of my people.”
“And it will again, no doubt. But for the moment, Trader and I must ride this river, and trust to the forces that have brought all of us together.”
“Bringing Smoke Shield and Flying Hawk down, let alone convincing the Council—this may kill us all.”
“No man lives forever, Amber Bead.”
“No. But then, I have no desire to end my days on a Chikosi square.” And with that he walked away.
Old White took a tired breath, seeing that Trader was alone. He hadn’t seen Whippoorwill leave, but Trader stood, head down, as if lost in thought.
Old White walked over, and said, “It’s late, Trader. I’m so tired you may have to carry me home.”
“Age has crept up on you?”
“That and a lack of sleep. If you find a woman in your bed tonight, would you mind moving your blankets outside?”
Trader stared back at the darkness where Whippoorwill had stood. “When she left, she called me husband.”
“Lucky Trader.”
They started for the dim trail that led up onto the terrace.
Trader asked, “What was in the pack Whippoorwill gave to Lotus Root?”