People of the Thunder(144)
Heron Wing rose, forgetting any decorum, and hurried over to Trader, shamelessly taking his hands.
He stared into her worried eyes, smiled, and reached up to barely stroke his fingertips over the ugly bruise on the side of her head. “He’ll pay for that.”
“Old White told you?”
“No,” the Seeker muttered, “I thought I’d let it be a surprise.”
Trader gave him a reprimanding stare. “Of course he told me.”
“Come,” she said. “Meet the rest.”
Trader reluctantly let go of her hand and followed her over to the fire. He hesitated long enough to say, “Swimmer? Over here. We’re in enough trouble. I don’t need you lifting your leg on anything.” The dog obeyed, sniffing the matting as he trotted over to lie down beside Trader.
Old White seated himself amidst a crackling of bones. Then he sighed and extended his hands to the fire. “It was a most difficult day for everyone involved.” He glanced at the dwarf woman. “You must be Chief Night Star. I’m Old White, known as the Seeker.”
“Are you truly the Seeker?” the warrior asked before the woman could speak. Skepticism lurked behind his eyes.
“That I am.” Old White smiled at him. “And who are you, Raccoon Clan warrior?”
Trader clapped his hands, crying, “Blade! You are the one they now call Blood Skull.” Trader smiled. “It’s been a long time.”
The warrior turned his eyes on Trader again, slowly shaking his head. “It is difficult to believe that you have come back. Why, after all these years?”
“To balance Power,” Trader said. “Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.” He studied the man. “You’ve grown since I saw you last. What were you? Twelve summers? We had some good times on the stickball field.”
“I used to look up to you.” Blood Skull nodded. “I reconsidered that after you failed to kill Smoke Shield. Why did you run?”
“Because I would not be the same kind of man as my uncle.”
For a long moment, Blood Skull studied him through those hard eyes, and then he nodded. “That I can accept . . . even if I don’t like it much.”
A voice called from the door, “It is Seven Dead.”
“Come, Tishu Minko,” Pale Cat called.
Seven Dead entered the room, crossed the floor, and seated himself. He glanced around, fixed on Trader, and froze.
“My greetings, old friend.” Trader reached out, taking the man’s hands.
“Green Snake?”
“Most know me as Trader now. But yes.”
“But from what Blood Skull tells me, you’re up with the Yuchi.”
“Then I am in two places.”
“Why? I mean, what are you doing here?”
“We’ll get to that,” Pale Cat said. “I needed you all to be here so that we might have a unified front at the Council meeting tomorrow. A great many decisions must be made.”
“How is the man that Smoke Shield clubbed?” Old White asked.
“Clinging to life.” Pale Cat steepled his fingers. “Black Tail and I attended to him. The eye is lost forever, and his face is destroyed. We have done all we can for him.”
“Will he live?” Night Star asked.
Pale Cat shrugged. “That is up to his souls. When I left, they were still wandering.”
“And Violet Bead?” Heron Wing asked.
“She’ll heal.”
“Any word of the White Arrow medicine box or Morning Dew?” Trader asked.
“Nothing,” Pale Cat said.
“Morning Dew has the White Arrow war medicine?” Blood Skull asked angrily.
“Perhaps”—Old White spread his hands—“we should start at the beginning. It is a very long story. At the end of it, we must decide how to deal with the Council tomorrow.” He glanced from face to face. “The future of our people hangs on what will happen in the tchkofa. And there are surprises yet to come.” Then the old man began to speak. Once again, Trader marveled at his eloquence.
When Old White finished his narration, the room was silent.
Blood Skull spoke first. “So we don’t know if the Contrary serves you or not?”
Old White gave him a level stare. “She serves Power, Warrior. She always has.”
It was Seven Dead who said, “And the Chahta are truly coming?”
“They are,” Trader replied. “As Old White told you, taking the war medicine was going to be our way to blunt his wrath. That, and the return of Morning Dew.”
Blood Skull dropped his head into his hands. “Gods, he was right all along?”
“Who?” Night Star asked.
“Smoke Shield. He had placed the warriors in position to ambush Great Cougar when he arrived. The plan was to lure the Chahta into the fields south of the city; then warriors would close from two sides, crushing him in the middle.” He glanced up. “Flying Hawk thought he’d lost his wits, and asked me to move as many warriors as possible to the north to meet Green Snake’s Yuchi warriors.”