People of the Thunder(27)

He passed Smoke Shield’s room, and gave it a sidelong glance. Would the man never come to his senses? What kind of fool—especially a potential leader—bet everything on a stickball game when he hadn’t managed to get his team together for regular practice? Even Smoke Shield had to understand that Power was watching, ready to reward those who followed its ways.

Yes, but he had the White Arrow Town raid to plan and execute. That, at least, Smoke Shield had done brilliantly. Still, had he been more interested in Power and drawing it to his aid instead of wetting his shaft in a new slave woman, perhaps he wouldn’t have gambled away all of his possessions.

The fact that Flying Hawk had divested himself of his own clothing to replace what Smoke Shield had lost prickled like bull nettle under his skin. And what had become of Smoke Shield’s comely Chahta slave? He’d lost her to Heron Wing! His wife, of all people! Gods, that story was told with amusement around many fires.

He will come around. I did. Yes, he thought with a sigh, his nephew just needed to feel the weight of responsibility for his people. Then he would understand. When Smoke Shield’s selfish drive had to act for the people’s good instead of his own, it would all come together.

Carrying his stone mace he stepped into the great room and found Sun Falcon Mankiller waiting for him. The Bowl Town chief stood, hands behind his back, his eyes on the Seeing Hand carving that hung behind the three-legged stool.

The sight of the carving brought a shiver to Flying Hawk. But a handful of nights past, he’d walked out after a terrible nightmare and seen a tear streaking down from the corner of the great eye that filled the palm. Even now he could see a slight stain, as if the wood had discolored along the tear’s track.

Did it weep for my people?

“Greetings, old friend.” Flying Hawk shook it off and walked forward, clasping the chief’s elbow. “I must admit, seeing my cousin so soon after the solstice comes as a surprise. What is so important that it brings you in person instead of a messenger?”

Flying Hawk seated himself painfully on the stool, wishing he had another cougar hide to cushion his old bones. The cool stone mace rested heavily on his lap. With a tingle in his spine, he was painfully aware of the Seeing Eye in the hand relief behind him.

Sun Falcon touched his forehead in respect and looked around. “Are we alone, High Minko?”

“Only my slave was here. When he told me you had arrived, I sent him to fetch suitable food. Some of our hunters found a bear denned up in the top of a hollow standing tree. They set fire to it and shot the bear as he crawled out. The meat is excellent. It will be heated and brought here.”

“And the war chief?”

“Off to some purpose or other.” Flying Hawk gave Sun Falcon a weary grin. “He dislikes the jokes made about his team’s performance in the recent games.”

Sun Falcon’s expression didn’t change. “Then he is not close by?”

“I could send for him if you wish?”

“No, for the moment let us just talk.”

“Then I am your willing audience.” He paused. “Do we need black drink, or perhaps the pipe?”

“No.” Sun Falcon paused, as if suddenly unsure of himself. “High Minko, what do you know about the disappearance of Red Awl?”

“Not much. Only that he was called home, but never arrived. Since then I have heard stories, most of them wildly speculative, but nothing with any meat on the bones. I remember your concerns at the solstice Council. You were concerned about relations with the Albaamaha.”

Sun Falcon lowered his voice. “Were there any special instructions, things that perhaps a high minko would have wished to accomplish without either the Council or the chiefs’ knowledge?”

Flying Hawk frowned, his unease growing. “Very delicately put. May I ask why?”

“You know our position in the north. Chief Buffalo Killer and I are both on the frontier with the Yuchi. Any raiders coming down from the north, be they Yuchi, Charokee, or Shawnee, will attack us first. Because of that, we have somewhat closer relations with our Albaamaha. When raiders come, we are their shield.”

“And they your eyes and ears.” Flying Hawk nodded. “I am well aware.”

“Because of our codependence, our relationships with the Albaamaha are different from those down here, closer to Split Sky City.”

“Spit it out, Sun Falcon. I’d think you were negotiating a marriage.”

“Mikko Red Awl was chosen to represent the north in the tchkofa Council because he had a basic understanding of our mutual problems. He was fully aware of the threats we face, and that we needed to work together for the betterment of both of our peoples.” Sun Falcon looked up. “I need to know if you sent Smoke Shield and Fast Legs to waylay him for some purpose. If you did, I will understand.”