Pale Cat stood, his smile at Heron Wing’s entrance fading. “You brought Morning Dew?”
Blood Skull asked, “Heron Wing, why? We have serious things to discuss here tonight. This isn’t a social visit.”
When Morning Dew planted a foot to turn back, Heron Wing reached for her hand, pulling her forward. At the same time she said, “No, this isn’t a social visit. We’re here to discuss the Chahta. If we’re going to know their will and aims we are best served hearing them straight from the Chahta themselves. Having only one White Arrow matron available for that purpose, I brought her along.”
“She’s a slave!” Blood Skull protested. “A captive!”
Morning Dew fought the building urge to spit at him. Stop it! Heron Wing’s right. You are a matron. Act like one.
Heron Wing seated herself to Night Star’s right, dragging a resisting Morning Dew down beside her. “Very good, warrior. Your sharp wits—having just been demonstrated—can now be put to good use helping us form some plan of action.”
Night Star gave Morning Dew a distasteful scowl before she turned her squinty eyes on Heron Wing. “I hope you aren’t joking, Niece.”
Morning Dew forced her heart to cease its pounding. A smart woman might learn something from this. She did her best to relax.
“Far from it, Aunt. I’m deadly serious here. We are discussing the future of our people. Specifically we are trying to figure out what the Chahta raid means.” She glanced at Blood Skull. “If it really is a raid.”
“Precisely,” Pale Cat agreed, thoughtful eyes on his sister. “Do you trust her that much?”
“I do.” Heron Wing turned to Morning Dew. “Tell them what you want most.”
Morning Dew read the firm look in Heron Wing’s eyes. Yes, yes. I’m a matron. Gods, you could be my mother. And then she stiffened her resolve. “I want to go home to my people. No matter what my present status, I am still Chief Clan, the matron of the White Arrow Moiety of the Chahta.”
“So,” Night Star asked, “that being the case, why should we trust you?”
Morning Dew was aware of Heron Wing’s evaluative expression. She wants to see what I’m made of. “I’m not sure you should.” She indicated Blood Skull. “Acting as second to Smoke Shield, Blood Skull and his warriors killed many of my relatives, including my mother. As I was his captive, he was the one who gave me to Smoke Shield. He was the man who tied my brother, High Minko Biloxi, to the square, tortured him, and would have killed him.” Her heart skipped. Gods, get over it. Be the woman Heron Wing thinks you are.
“In fact, it was my brother”—she swallowed hard—“and his war chief who started this thing with the Alligator Town raid. You did to us what we did to you.” Think! Don’t let your heart rule your souls. “The fact that Heron Wing brought me here tells me that you need to know the hearts of the Chahta. So I will tell you.” She paused, looking from face to face. “Assuming, that is, that we are working to bring this problem between our peoples to a sane conclusion.”
Heron Wing was smiling like a fox who had just caught a bobwhite.
Night Star watched her with midnight eyes.
Blood Skull lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
Pale Cat had an amused look on his face as he nodded to his sister.
Night Star clasped her small hands in her lap. “You could be a potent enemy.”
“I could also be just as potent an ally.” Morning Dew met the woman’s stare. “. . . With the right persuasion. Why don’t you tell me what you need to know about the Chahta, and why? After that we can iron out the details about why we should or should not trust each other.”
Night Star glanced at Blood Skull. “Objections?”
“Yes,” the Raccoon Clan warrior muttered, “but for the moment I’ll keep them to myself.”
“Very well,” Night Star relented. “You just returned from hunting the Chahta raiders, Blood Skull. What did your warriors find, and why are you concerned?”
He glanced suspiciously at Morning Dew, then withdrew a bloodstained arrow from the sack beside him. “The raiders moved from south to north, starting their sweep just west of us and ending outside of Bowl Town. They attacked only small farmsteads, killing Albaamaha. As best we know at this early date, twenty-three were killed. Two survivors, both Albaamaha, claimed that the raiders were under War Chief Great Cougar. They heard him called by name. The trackers found four parties of five warriors apiece.”
“And what is the problem with that?” Pale Cat asked.
Blood Skull twirled the bloody arrow in his fingers. “Our scouts saw nothing on the ridgeline, no trail, no evidence of passage. We can’t backtrack the raiders, nor could Sun Falcon’s trackers find where they turned back west.”