People of the Thunder(57)

“So they were very skilled.”

“Were they?” Blood Skull handed the arrow to Morning Dew. “Look at it. Can you say for sure that this is a Chahta arrow?”

Morning Dew took the light shaft. About the length of her forearm, it had been broken, as if snapped from the body it entered. “The colors are right. The white band indicates it comes from our Deer Clan of the White Arrow Moiety.”

Blood Skull nodded.

Morning Dew frowned at it. “Honestly, I’m no expert on arrows. Men don’t like women around their weapons.”

Blood Skull took it back, asking, “How many Chahta Deer Clan warriors live at Feathered Serpent Town?”

Morning Dew frowned, trying to think. “Some, I’m sure. Probably men . . .” She shook her head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. It’s a Red Arrow Town. But that’s not to say Great Cougar couldn’t have had volunteers from some other place.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Blood Skull stared at the arrow. “I wouldn’t have given it any thought. But I broke this shaft off from where it was sticking out of a woman’s back. I was about to throw it away, angry, enraged at the Chahta. Then something caught my eye. The problem is with the notches cut here in the fletching.” He pointed to two small nicks. Each was repeated on the three split feathers tied to the shaft. “Bear Paw notches his arrows in this fashion.”

“Bear Paw?” Night Star asked. “He’s one of your kinsmen.”

“I know. I hunt with him. All Raccoon Clan hunters leave a distinctive notch, or perhaps a zigzag line scratched in the shaft, something, to tell whose arrow actually killed the game. Normally we paint a blue ring on our shafts, the sign of our clan. This arrow, if you’ll notice, has been rubbed with fine sand right around the white ring. The wood is pale, as if the old color had been sanded off.”

“That’s hardly conclusive,” Pale Cat said.

Blood Skull looked up. “Four parties of five apiece. But just before the Chahta raid, Smoke Shield left with twenty warriors on some errand for Flying Hawk. The thing is: Bear Paw was with them.”

Heron Wing asked, “You think Smoke Shield’s warriors did this?”

Blood Skull turned his eyes on Morning Dew. “Tell me, Matron, you know Great Cougar. Does this raid sound like something he’d lead?”

Did it? She frowned at the arrow. “No,” she said softly, feeling the oddness of it. “Great Cougar isn’t a man of half measures. Nor is he impulsive. The Red Arrow war chief I know will bide his time, build his strength, and come at you in force. He believes in war, and he believes in winning. He told me once that a good war chief goes to war with the intent to smash a pot with an ax.”

Blood Skull nodded, the first thawing of his reservation. “That is the man I know, too.”

“This is madness,” Pale Cat whispered. “Are we seriously considering the notion that a band of our warriors—led by our war chief—is running amok, killing innocent Albaamaha?”

“He is after something,” Heron Wing said thoughtfully. “I’ve seen it in his eyes.” She glanced up. “You know I have ears among the Albaamaha. Most of you have at least heard the rumors that Red Awl is missing. Among the Albaamaha the story is passed that Smoke Shield and Fast Legs waylaid him, that Smoke Shield tortured Red Awl and raped his wife, Lotus Root, up at the sandstone quarry above Clay Bank Crossing. According to the Albaamaha story, Lotus Root escaped with Smoke Shield’s weapons, and bit him on the lip in the process. At the solstice games, Fast Legs, one of Hickory Moiety’s best players, was missing.”

Blood Skull nodded, looking at Pale Cat. “At the Council he was adamant that the Albaamaha were betraying us. He accused them not only of sending Crabapple to warn White Arrow Town, but also of killing the captives.”

Morning Dew drew a breath, stilling herself.

“Yes?” Heron Wing caught her reaction.

In a whisper, she said, “I wouldn’t put vendetta beyond Smoke Shield.” She glanced hesitantly at Blood Skull. “You were there. You know why he really attacked White Arrow Town.”

Blood Skull refused to meet her eyes, focusing instead on the arrow.

“Enlighten us,” Night Star said dryly, her eyes like knives.

“To take me,” Morning Dew told the dwarf woman. “Because I spurned him last summer. All that planning to make the raid a success was diversion. The attack on Alligator Town was only the excuse.”

“We are to believe that?” Night Star scoffed. “He did all that just to capture you?” She chuckled. “You seem to have a pretty high opinion of yourself, Matron.”