He turned slowly, meeting their eyes, one by one. “Are you brave enough? Do you have the hearts to make this come true? Can you, great Sky Hand warriors, act like Chahta for just two days? Can you convince yourselves enough to convince the Albaamaha that they are being killed by Chahta warriors?”
One by one, they nodded, expressions set with resolve.
“Then let’s get about it. You all have your paints; it is time we become Chahta. Then, when this is all finished, we will share our people’s rage over this terrible incursion into our territory.” He gave them a grim smile. “Do this thing, prepare the hearts and minds of our people, and I shall lead you all to the greatest glory. In the end, we shall rule as did the great lords of Cahokia.”
They were nodding to each other. Yes, they believed him.
The Albaamaha shall rue this day!
Paunch was asleep, Dreaming of steaming dishes of pumpkin and sweet squash. He was sitting at home, in his tight little house, a fire crackling before him. To one side, a freshly roasted turkey had been browned in the fire; the aroma of the meat carried to his nostrils.
“They are coming,” Whippoorwill’s voice intruded.
Paunch stared down at the feast, but each time he tried to reach out, his arms might have been made of stone. Try as he might, it took all of his effort just to lift his arm, and when he did, it rose ever so slowly, as if stuck in thick pitch.
“You had better wake up. It’s time,” Whippoorwill’s voice intruded again.
Paunch blinked, his mouth awash in saliva.
The cold leached back into his body, masked by the pleasure of the Dream. He could sense the pangs in his belly, as insistent now as they’d been when he struggled to reach those tantalizing dishes.
He groaned, rolled over in his filthy cape, and stared out at the morning. Their camp lay on a rise, just below the crest of a low ridge. They had moved here, closer to the Horned Serpent River, figuring on robbing isolated Chahta fish traps. Morning sun lanced through the high branches, indicating the time was just after sunrise. Somewhere an ivory-billed woodpecker hammered a staccato against resistant wood.
“Did you say something?” He glanced at Whippoorwill. She sat, back straight, hands neatly in her lap. Her long hair hung down to frame her oval face. She had a faint smile on her lips, a Dreamy look in her large eyes.
“They are coming,” she replied simply. “It is time.”
“They who? Time for what?” When she went eerie on him like this, it set his nerves on edge.
“What we’ve been waiting for.”
He stared at her. “Waiting for? I’ve been waiting to go home! I’m cold to the bone, hungry like I’ve never been, and my joints hurt. I’m starting to believe the Chikosi square would come as a relief. It would be painful, sure, but they’d feed me until it came time to die.”
“You will eat soon enough.”
He growled to himself and sat up. His hair was full of sticks and bits of leaves. Their fire had burned down to white ash. He mumbled to himself and reached for the small gourd they kept water in.
After gulping the cold liquid, he stood, shivered, and stretched. “I don’t see how you can sit there so calmly after all we’ve been through.” Then her words sank in. “Who’s coming?”
“Sitting calmly is the best way to wait,” she told him simply. “They are already here. All around us.”
“Yes, right.” He walked over to the edge of their small camp, pulled up his shirt, and reached behind his breechcloth. He sighed as he urinated behind a fallen log. “All around us.” What could that mean? He stared out at the forest, surprised to catch movement out of the corner of his eye.
He squinted, rubbed his eyes, and stared harder. His sharpening vision was enough to make out a partial face, one eye peering past the bole of a tree.
“Someone’s out there,” he said nervously, refastening his clothing and ducking down. “We’ve got to go.”
“That is correct,” she told him in a knowing voice. “They’re here. If you run, they’ll kill you.”
“Who?” He peeked over the log to find a Chahta warrior peering back at him. “By Abba Mikko! They’ve found us.”
“Just surrender. It will be all right.” She was perfectly composed as she said, “They smelled the fire.”
“Gods, do you know what they’ll do to us?”
She nodded serenely. “Of course. I’ve seen it all.”
“What? When?”
“When this all started. Come, gather your things and let’s walk out to meet them. Do not resist.”
“Blood and muck!” He felt something sink down in his empty gut. As he stared this way and that, he could see other warriors, each creeping forward, wary, arrows nocked in their bows.