“Is that my own medicine turned against me?” The faintest smile crossed Heron Wing’s lips.
“What do you think?”
“I think somehow, some way, you have become my finest friend, Morning Dew.” Then she shook her head. “When he left, my souls went with him.”
“Then perhaps it’s time you got them back.”
Heron Wing stared down at the raccoon bowl. “No one must know.” She stiffened. “Do you think that Thunder Town Trader will tell?”
“By morning, he’ll be gone upriver again. I don’t think he had any idea who you were. It wasn’t like you were dressed like a clan leader. Your skirt is stained with hickory oil. To him, it was just a Sky Hand woman and her slave come down to Trade. Nothing more.”
A hard day’s travel had taken Old White’s party to the confluence of the Horned Serpent and Black Warrior Rivers. Most of the route lay through hilly country where the Horned Serpent flowed quickly, allowing them to make good time. At the confluence they had camped with a party of Pensacoloa Traders for the night. The place was a levee that rose above the swampy ground.
After an active Trade, in which they divested most of their Chahta goods and several prized northern pieces for quality shell, yaupon, stingray spines, sharks’ teeth, and several packs of pelican feathers, they started up the Black Warrior River.
At first travel was easy, the broad current lazy, but as they entered the hills, the current that had helped them on the descent of the Horned Serpent fought against them. The route consisted of crisscrossing the channel, forever searching for the slower backwaters and shallows. Progress dropped to a snail’s pace.
Good camping spots, however, were abundant. They had pulled up on one such—a low terrace covered with sweet gum, bitter acorn, and cottonwoods.
Paunch, who could at least cook, had made them an excellent meal of catfish and freshwater mussels he had harvested from shallows along the river. Old White had carefully laid his wooden pack and the fabric bag with its hidden contents by his side. He now kept them close, ready at hand for reasons of his own.
At the fire that night, Trader spoke in Trade Tongue so the Albaamo couldn’t understand. “Something doesn’t make sense.” He glanced at Old Woman Fox’s ornate box where it rested among the Trade.
“A great many things don’t make sense,” Old White agreed, packing his pipe and lighting it. “Like trying to have a normal conversation with Two Petals.” He puffed reflectively, blowing the blue smoke up to annoy the hovering cloud of mosquitoes. For the most part, the little beasts were discouraged by an unguent rubbed on their skin. A few brave insects, however, were foolish enough to land, bite, and then be slapped flat.
“Let’s lay this all out in sequence.” Trader filled his own pipe. “First, we land at Feathered Snake Town, and Great Cougar, though skeptical, makes us welcome. He acts as the perfect host, even urges us to stay longer. Then, as we travel downriver, people are nice, but firm in keeping us away from the towns.”
“And why do you think that is?”
Trader smiled warily as he reached down and ran his fingers through Swimmer’s long black hair. “He was giving his messengers time to alert the other chiefs, to assemble their Trade, and then get us back on the river as soon as possible.”
“All but at White Arrow.”
“Correct.” Trader glanced at Two Petals, who listened and smiled, as if amused. Curse it all, life would be so much easier if she’d just come out and tell them what her visions had shown her.
Old White arched an eyebrow. “And we are allowed into White Arrow Town to Trade because Old Woman Fox wants to have some private time with us. She does this to ask us to get her granddaughter back.”
“She is obsessed by that,” Trader agreed. “Meanwhile, we learn that Great Cougar was supposedly raiding the Sky Hand at the same time he was feasting us and being a good host.”
Swimmer flopped over on his side, stretching so that Trader could scratch his belly.
“All the while, he’s letting us believe he’s making defensive preparations for a Sky Hand attack.”
Trader sucked at his pipe. “Which we both agree is the smartest way to handle any Sky Hand retaliation. With warning, he can fortify his villages, position his warriors, and hopefully break up the raiding party before destroying it piecemeal.”
“But the men were missing at White Arrow Town,” Old White mused. “Sure, they might have been out hunting and fishing, but during the whole day we were there, did you see any men coming in with game? Did you see loads of fish being carried up from the river?”