He just stared at her in disbelief.
She settled beside him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “You know that the palisade is down?”
He nodded.
“That’s why you have to go hide in the brush. Warriors could swarm all over the city. No house would be safe. That brush in the bottom is so green it won’t burn. You can wait two days if you have to, can’t you?”
He nodded.
She smiled. “It won’t come to that, but what did I always tell you about being prepared?”
“I know.”
“Good.” She stood, trying to exhale the tension in her chest. Then she reached for the box that held her necklaces. She picked four of the thick white shell strands and hung them over her neck. Looking down at herself, she pressed her dress flat along her hips, and finally decided on a white sash made from the finest hemp. This she doubled around her slim waist and left the fringed tails to hang at her side.
“How do I look?”
“Stunning,” Green Snake said from the doorway.
She turned, and her hand rose to her throat. “I wish you didn’t sound so much like your brother.”
“So do I, but there’s not much I can do about it until he stops talking.”
He wore a buffalo-calf cape edged with copper beads and a wide breechcloth with a long-tailed white apron. On the front of it an eagle had been embroidered in black thread. His hair was washed and pulled back in a bun that was pinned with a stunning copper pin that flared into a turkey-tail design.
“That’s a Chief Clan symbol,” she noted.
“If I was Panther Clan, you’d be like a sister to me. I wouldn’t like that.”
“Gods, how can you act so calm?”
“Part of the Power of Trade, I suppose.” He grinned. “I’m hoping to Trade my brother’s future for my own.” He glanced down. “Stone? I need you to do me a favor.”
Her son nodded, still cowed by the notion of having to go hide.
“Swimmer?” Trader called.
The dog trotted in, ears up, tail swishing.
“Stone? Will you take care of Swimmer while your mother and I are at the Council? Now, don’t overfeed him! Only a few treats. But you can play stick all you want.”
Stone’s face beamed as he dropped his clay dog and went to run his fingers through Swimmer’s thick fur. “You and me can play stick all day.”
Heron Wing found a smile somewhere; then she noticed the square fabric pack Green Snake carried. It seemed to pull down on his shoulders, as though extremely heavy. “What’s that?”
“A miracle,” he told her. “Are you ready?”
“Breath Giver help me. No, I’m not. I’d give anything to be sitting in your canoe right now, headed downstream.”
“Who knows? If this goes wrong, and I can get away, grab Stone and the dog, we’ll be gone.” He smiled courageously. “But let’s try it Power’s way first.”
She nodded, willing herself to move. “Stone, you remember what I told you?”
He nodded, and she took one last moment to pat her son’s head before walking purposefully for the door.
Thirty
The familiar feel of the wooden pack on his back, and the heavy fabric bag over his shoulder, had a calming effect on Old White. Across countless mountains, deserts, forests, and swamps these familiar weights had been his companions. Now they accompanied him on their final journey across the beaten grass of the plaza.
Seven Dead waited right where he had said he would: beside the first guardian post. Blood Skull, dressed in finery, stood at his side, a battered war club hanging from his belt. Both men had pulled their warriors’ locks through polished white shell beads, their faces were painted, and raccoon-hide capes hung from their shoulders.
“Looks like a fine morning, Tishu Minko,” Old White greeted. “And good day to you, warrior.”
“Seeker,” Seven Dead greeted, tension in the set of his mouth.
“And the scouts we discussed last night?” Old White asked.
Blood Skull said, “I have sent twenty trusted men, all with precise instructions. They’re spaced so that not even a deer could emerge from the forest without one knowing. All are fleet of foot, and should be able to outrace any of the Chahta scouts getting back here.”
“Let us hope that Great Cougar comes later rather than sooner,” Seven Dead said.
“On that, I most assuredly agree,” Old White told him. He glanced up at the tchkofa stairs. “Shall we see what happens?”
“The guards at the top are Raccoon Clan.” Seven Dead smiled grimly. “Appointing the guards is the tishu minko’s responsibility.”