No, this wasn’t a punishment as Flying Hawk had intended, but an opportunity. Power had practically breathed the plan into his souls.
He paced before the flames, studying each man. They waited, fully aware that something big was happening.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, worried that he might have shaken any faith they had in him during the solstice stickball game.
One by one, they nodded.
“Good,” he told them. “Because I am the man who led you to victory at White Arrow Town. I am the man who planned and executed the attack.”
“War Chief?” Bear Paw asked.
Smoke Shield turned to the wide-faced burly warrior. “Yes?”
“Is it true that the Albaamaha have taken Fast Legs?”
“It is. He was on the trail of the man who killed the captives.” He added, “Your captives, taken at White Arrow Town.” Now, to lay the seeds of his plan. “These are dangerous times, my friends. The Albaamaha are cunning. You all witnessed their perfidy when we captured the traitor, Crabapple, and made him divulge how he would have led us into disaster. You have felt the burn of Albaamaha treachery when you looked upon the dead captives, robbed away from us by a sneaking Albaamaha plot. In you, and you alone, I can confide what Fast Legs and I discovered.”
He measured their response, seeing frowns and uncertainty coupled with curiosity. “What we are about to do must be done with great care and caution.” He pressed his palms together, as if in stern deliberation. “What would happen if we attacked the Albaamaha outright?”
“They would rise in revolt,” Three Scalps said softly.
“Correct.” Smoke Shield smiled. “So here is what the high minko has ordered us to do. We are to sweep north as if in a game drive. In the process, we are to find and free Fast Legs. Now, if we do this as Sky Hand warriors, it will inflame the Albaamaha even more. We will play into the hands of the malcontents, drive them to irrational action, and have a major uprising on our hands.”
“So, what do we do?” Bear Paw looked perplexed.
“You all have seen Chahta arrows? You have seen how they dress?”
All around the fire, warriors nodded.
“For this action we shall become Chahta. We shall paint our arrows in their colors. Wear our hair in their style, and paint our faces in their triangular designs. When we leave a corpse behind, it shall be under their sign, carved into a tree. A few survivors will be allowed to escape, and they will carry the word that it was Great Cougar, the Chahta war chief, who has made this raid.” He looked around. “When we attack, each man is to affect the Chahta accent. Slur your words the way they do. Speak disparagingly of the Sky Hand.”
He noted the surprise, unease building behind their expressions. “Oh, yes, I see your hesitation. You think that by doing this, you will spurn the Power of our ways, anger your Ancestors. But think about this: In the end, we strengthen ourselves! Do you believe that Power is so simple it does not recognize the ruse? Do you think for a moment that our souls are not shining and pure in our motives? I tell you, yes, they are! By the cunning of our plan, we shall stand out, attract Power to our cause with the results we achieve!”
Some were nodding to themselves.
“Think of it! We will deal the Albaamaha a blow! Shake their confidence in themselves, remind them who keeps the wolves from their doors! At the same time, we eliminate the discontents, behead their leadership, and clear the way for war against the Chahta in the Council. Once the Albaamaha are cowed, desperately seeking our protection, we can strike with our full might against the Chahta. Once we have broken them, they, too, shall be as the Albaamaha.” He thumped his chest. “Servants! Yes, I say servants. They shall toil in their fields and pay us tribute! We shall rule the Horned Serpent River Valley. And you, my fine champions, shall see your relatives sitting atop their mounds.”
He could see the gleam that had come to their eyes as they imagined it. Each and every one had lost a relative at some time in the past to Chahta warriors. If he could lead them to believe that retribution could be had for all past slights, and offer them the hope of greater prestige, they would be his.
“That is the future . . . if we can pull off this charade. But it will be difficult. When we strike the Albaamaha we will only attack isolated farmsteads and ambush individuals out away from their villages. You must show no mercy, remembering instead Crabapple and his treason. The lives you take in the next couple of days will save hundreds of others. You are forestalling a revolt. You must keep that in mind. By killing a few Albaamaha, you are removing the risk to your families, your kin, and clans.”