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People of the Thunder(55)

By:W. Michael Gear


“You played that artfully, War Chief,” Clay Bell said softly. “It would have been different several days from now. The warriors will be coming.”

“I just hope I delayed the Traders long enough for the runners to get downriver to warn the other chiefs.” He sighed, fingering the copper gorget. “The Seeker played a good game to obtain the Albaamaha spies. I wonder if he’ll get his value’s worth?”

“They are up to something,” Clay Bell agreed. “We had better get back. We have work to do. The coming days are going to tax our energy. Hiding so many warriors is going to be difficult.”

“Oh, yes. But Power is with us; I can feel it. If we do this right, they’ll never know we’re coming.” The hard part would be moving so many warriors in silence and stealth. But the last thing the arrogant Chikosi would expect was a major assault on Split Sky City. He had a plan for the Chikosi scouts. They were already bored, watching for a raid that never seemed to come. His scouts were watching their scouts. Some had even taken to calling back and forth to each other. It was a weakness he could exploit.

Great Cougar smiled. “When I asked that old Albaamaha if his people had been cutting pine logs, he had no idea what I was talking about.”

Clay Bell smiled. “Then those rotted palisade walls at Split Sky City haven’t been replaced yet.”

“Too bad,” Great Cougar mused. “I suspect a Chahta wind is about to blow them down.”



“Wake up,” Heron Wing said as she nudged Morning Dew’s shoulder.

“Huh?” She blinked, finding the room in total darkness. Only the faintest of red eyes marked the hot coals in the hearth.

“Shhh! Don’t wake Stone.”

Morning Dew sat up, her hair spilling around her.

“Get dressed.” Heron Wing added, “We’re going out.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“That’s the whole point.”

“The point of what?” Morning Dew asked as she pulled a long-sleeved dress over her head.

“Plotting.”

“We’re plotting in the middle of night?” I’m confused.

“All good plotting is done in the middle of the night.” Heron Wing led the way to the door, and then stepped past the hanging.

Morning Dew followed her out, wishing she’d learned to keep better track of the stars to tell the time; but when she looked up at the inky sky it was to see an infinite black. Instead, a faint drizzle settled from the darkness. She hurried along, following Heron Wing’s dark shape as she wound through the maze of mortars, ramada poles, and fire pits to the edge of the plaza.

“Careful,” Heron Wing said after tripping. “It’s dark as pitch out here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Pale Cat’s. No matter what, you are to speak of this to no one. I have a specific reason for asking you along tonight. We need your expertise.”

“We do?”

But Heron Wing said no more as she made her way along the edge of the plaza. How the woman found her way was remarkable. Morning Dew had to stop several times, calling out to reorient herself.

“Take my hand.” Heron Wing reached back, grasping Morning Dew’s. The surefooted woman led her on a winding course through the Panther Clan houses, past the charnel house with its unmistakable smell of decomposition, and to the base of the Hopaye’s ramp. Step by step they felt their way to the top, entered the palisade, and finally, with the glow around the door to lead them, crossed to the Panther Clan palace.

Morning Dew looked around owlishly as she stepped inside. A central fire illuminated the room. The usual carved relief of the Seeing Hand covered the back wall. A tripod sat in the north; numerous boxes, packs, jars, baskets, and other vessels had been stowed beneath the wall benches. Unique for the room, carved wooden statues of panthers, bears, falcons, woodpeckers, raccoons, and rattlesnakes were spaced evenly between the benches. Many had a polished look, as if people had leaned on them for support.

Pale Cat and the diminutive Night Star were seated before the tripod. A ceramic pot hung over the fire, steam rising from the surface. Just to Pale Cat’s left sat the Raccoon Clan warrior Blood Skull, a fabric pack by his side. Blood Skull, the man who captured me out of my own house. For an instant she was back in White Arrow Town. Then came the memory of her husband’s body slamming into the hard ground. She remembered stepping out the door, seeing Screaming Falcon’s body on the ground. And then she flinched at the memory of Blood Skull’s muscular arms clamping around her body.

She forced herself back to the present, stifling the urge to fly at the man.