“My people appreciate the gesture,” the warrior said, squatting. He looked out at the plaza, where solitary individuals passed. “I have heard kind things said. Most know that you took a loss on their account. I think many are embarrassed by their current circumstances.”
“White Arrow Town will come back,” Trader told him. “I know the Chahta. By next fall, after a good harvest, the heart will be beating here again.”
The man chuckled without humor. “Let us hope so. The future, however, is a grim place.”
“Why is that?” Old White asked.
“I’ve been scouting in the forest. Keeping an eye on the Chikosi. We watch them; they watch us. Sometimes we shoot an arrow at someone who gets too close. Mostly we shout curses at each other.” He gave them a curious glance. “I heard that you came from upriver?”
“We did.”
“You saw Great Cougar?”
“We did. Traded for that lazy Albaamaha over there.” Old White pointed to where Paunch lay sleeping on a blanket beneath a ramada.
The warrior seemed to digest that, then asked, “Was Great Cougar planning a raid?”
Old White’s bushy eyebrow lifted. “Just the opposite. He’s organizing his forces to ambush the Chikosi when they attack in spring.”
“That’s what I thought.” A pause. “Odd.”
“What is?” Trader asked. “It seems a sound defense. Here you can ambush them on your home ground. Lead them into traps and generally make them miserable.”
The warrior took out a little stick he’d stuck in his belt. He drew doodles on the clay as he said, “One of the Chikosi, the man who was watching me watch him, said that Great Cougar had raided the Sky Hand lands east of the divide and killed some Albaamaha. This Chikosi . . . he promised revenge.”
“Great Cougar did this?” Trader asked.
“That’s what the Chikosi said. According to him, it was several days ago. Just after the rains.”
“If Great Cougar did, he is indeed a great warrior,” Old White noted, “for he was able to do what every war chief wishes more than anything else: He was in two places at once. We were guests in his palace during that entire time.”
“I thought so. It must be some Chikosi plot, but for the life of me, I can’t understand what it would be. What do they gain by threatening retaliation for a raid we didn’t commit?”
“What else did you hear from the Chikosi?” Trader asked, reaching over for his last weasel skin.
“Threats of what they’d do to us. Some kind of nonsense about our ‘ally Albaamaha’ and how we couldn’t weaken them that way.”
“The Albaamaha are your allies?” Old White asked.
“That’s news to us.” The warrior retraced his doodle. “An Albaamo is just a Chikosi hand-licker. After what happened here, we’d just as soon kill every last one of them.”
“You lost someone?” Old White asked.
“Two brothers, their wives, and some children. I’ve taken my nieces and nephews in. My wife was fortunate; she got through the gate. It will be a stretch, but we’ll keep food in their mouths.” He glanced up, lines forming around the corners of his eyes. “Hard to do when I have to spend half my time out in the forest.”
“Here.” Trader handed him one of the remaining weasel skins. He explained how northern weasels changed color and how the northern chiefs had entire cloaks made only of the white tails with their black tips. “Take it. If you can get to some of the Pearl River towns, that hide should Trade for enough corn and beans to fill those young bellies you’re worried about.”
The warrior ran his finger over the soft fur. “I have nothing to Trade.”
Old White replied, “We are now bound by the Power of Trade. Someday in the future, when things are better, you can give us something in return.”
The warrior smiled wearily. “Someday. Yes, Seeker, I will do that.” He stood, replacing the stick in his belt and rubbing the fur. “For now, I pray that Power hovers around you, and protects you from any evil. I thank you.”
Trader watched him walk away. “Great Cougar was raiding the Albaamaha? How?”
Old White shrugged. “It was only talk between two warriors in the forest. The Chikosi must have been mistaken.”
“Oh, very wrong,” Two Petals said. “He has made a bad mistake. Just wait; we’ll see the truth of it come out of his mouth like vomit.”
“Who made a mistake? This warrior, the Chikosi, or Great Cougar?”
“None of them.” Two Petals’ hands were making their synchronous twitching.