People of the Thunder(80)

“You still have to deal with the fortified towns farther to the west along the Pearl River.”

“No, I don’t. They will only be thinking of defense, and reluctant to act. If you were a chief, and the Yuchi had just raided your neighbor, would you be willing to weaken your defenses by sending warriors off to fight in the west?” He seemed to be seeing the future reflected in his map. “The important thing is to burn Feathered Serpent Town, destroy the farms in every direction, and fight until we have used up the food reserves. Then we withdraw across the Horned Serpent.” He tossed his pointed stick at the bowl representing his objective. “I need to leave that country in ruins. And then we have to look like we’re falling apart, disorganized. Perhaps let the counterattacking Chahta warriors win some small victories.”

Fascinated, Flying Hawk leaned forward. “And just what does that gain you?”

“If I’m lucky, a pursuit that I can ambush and destroy. I want the few terrified survivors running back, telling anyone who will listen that the Chahta are defeated. I want them sowing panic.” He walked over and picked up his stick. “Meanwhile, I need you to continue sending me food, here, at the Clear Water Creek Crossing. As many Albaamaha as you can find, all carrying the heaviest packs they can.”

Flying Hawk shook his head. “But you will already have won.”

Smoke Shield continued to study his map. “We pursue the panicked survivors back west and take the next town to the south. For the most part the country will be defenseless. There we restock and move to the next town. In a matter of days, we can destroy every farm and town in the northeast. Any war parties from the south or west will be coming in disorganized groups. We can destroy them, or choose not to fight. The thing is we will have food and they won’t. When the time is right we retreat across the river, have a cooked meal at Clear Water Creek Crossing, and come home to a triumphant greeting.”

“Just what will this accomplish in the end?”

“Two things. First, we will have dealt the Chahta a terrible blow, killed a great many of their warriors, and burned some of their most important towns. Second, the survivors of the ambushes will flee, beaten, starved, and terrified. They will spread that terror among the other towns off to the west.” He looked up. “Uncle, if we can continue this, support raid after raid, we can drive the Chahta out of the Horned Serpent Valley and take it for our own.”

Flying Hawk nodded. “As long as we don’t pull too many Albaamaha from the land, they can farm while we fight. Assuming, that is, they don’t pick that moment to revolt.”

Smoke Shield tapped his stick. “Would you rise up against a people whose warriors were winning victory after victory?”

“Perhaps not.” But he wasn’t sure.

“We could take some of the Albaamaha mikkos with us. Hostages. The reason given, of course, will be that we wanted to honor them for their people’s support of the war. We could give them enough gifts looted from the Chahta to even make the pretense seem real.”

Flying Hawk considered the plan as Smoke Shield had laid it out. The whole thing was intricate, well thought-out, and workable. He could see flaws, of course—no war party ever functioned according to the plan—but Smoke Shield, if anyone, could make this thing work.

I could be high minko over half the world. The notion startled him.

Smoke Shield’s half-lidded eyes were fixed on his. “Think of it, Uncle. If we can trick other peoples into destroying each other, we can move in when they are at their weakest. Split Sky City could become the new Cahokia.”

Flying Hawk turned his attention to the map, seeing all that country, imagining the wealth and prestige that would accrue to the Sky Hand, and to himself. Gods, it was tempting. He could imagine his brother—see him staring worriedly at Smoke Shield.

No, you would never have seen through his arrogance to the brilliance. But if this could be done, if the Chahta could be finally broken, Flying Hawk’s actions that long-ago day would be vindicated. People would speak of him and Smoke Shield in turn as the greatest high minkos to have ever lived. The disaster of that long-ago fire would be forgotten, seen as a blessing instead of a curse.

They will finally understand that there was a reason why I survived and none of the rest did.

“You have two problems,” Flying Hawk noted.

“And that is?”

“Gaining the Council’s support is your first problem.”

Smoke Shield snorted. “For the moment they are incensed by the Alligator Town and Albaamaha raids. There is no love for the Chahta. Why would they turn down the chance to obtain the Horned Serpent Valley? We will lose some warriors, obviously. If I plan this right, it will be from among our enemies here. For example, I think the Chahta will take their wrath out on Blood Skull and his white arrow. But the others will be thinking of establishing new chiefdoms in the Horned Serpent farmlands.”