People of the Thunder(9)

Gods, have I ever been this cold and hungry?

The distant palisade around Bowl Town seemed to beckon him where it dominated a thin neck of land bounded on three sides by the river. Chief Sun Falcon’s tall roof jutted up above the high walls. Fast Legs would be welcomed there, made a place by the fire, and fed real food. But with that delightful shelter would come the question: What are you doing here?

No, too much responsibility rested on him. He had to kill the woman, retrieve the war chief’s weapons, and get away. Even if it meant turning himself into a wild man to do it.

War Chief, you are going to owe me when this is finished.

Once again he caught himself staring longingly across the distance at Bowl Town. True, he could tell them he was hunting, and they would believe it. But, why, they would wonder, was he hunting here? And why hadn’t he announced himself and asked them to join the hunt?

Looking down at his filthy cloak, mud-encrusted moccasins, and feeling his greasy hair, no one would believe he’d just arrived. He looked like what he was, a man who had been skulking in the forest for days. His belly growled, reminding him that he would have to sneak into the Albaamaha settlement and raid their granary in the middle of the night again. Sometime, even the stupid Albaamaha had to realize that someone was taking their corn and squash.

He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.

At least he knew she was still inside that house. During those two days the local forest had swarmed with Albaamaha, his greatest fear had been that Lotus Root had slipped away, escaped to another village. But then, after he had sneaked back, he’d seen her. The cursed woman had been walking around the houses as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She’d almost been too unconcerned, but perhaps that was the ultimate purpose of the firewood collection, to give him the impression that she had run. Anything to give him reason to give up the chase.

But you don’t know me. I am a Sky Hand warrior. And in the end, that knowledge alone would see him through.

He balled his fists, jamming them under his armpits. More than once, he had considered walking in just before dawn, ignoring the dogs, and leaping through the door. He could kill everyone inside and still get away, but it would be messy. Someone would see him. Such a blatant act would give the woman’s story credibility. No, she had to disappear without a trace. Reasons could be manufactured for the why of it. The best explanation was that she could no longer live with her lies about the war chief. Guilt had driven her to leave, as it had that miserable Paunch.

Fast Legs made a face. He remembered the Albaamo traitor, Crabapple. The man had been captured trying to reach the White Arrow Chahta. Under torture, Crabapple had screamed out that the Albaamo elder known as Paunch was behind the betrayal. But when the returning warriors had gone to question the man, his house had been empty. Not only had the old man been missing, but so had most of his family, including his Spirit-touched granddaughter, Whippoorwill.

“But we’ll find you eventually, traitor,” Fast Legs promised. No old Albaamo man could hide out in the forest for long. Albaamaha didn’t have the strength of character and purpose a Sky Hand warrior did.

He shot another glance at Lotus Root’s house and froze. The woman had stepped out into the freezing rain. The objects she carried looked like the war chief’s bow and his quiver of arrows, although he couldn’t be sure over this distance. She glanced this way and that, furtively, as if making sure that no one saw her. In a sprint, Lotus Root darted to the side of the granary, easing around it, hidden from the forest.

Fast Legs was on his feet, almost wobbling on his wooden legs. He took one last glance at the houses, saw no one, and ducked back into the trees. There he sprinted as best he could across the ice-coated leaf mat, his feet slipping and sliding.

Finally! She was taking the western trail. He now knew this bit of forest like he did the plan of his house back in Split Sky City. Why would she be headed west into the forest? There was nothing out there but trees. Perhaps on the way to some secret meeting? Maybe she was going out to hide the war chief’s weapons, ensuring that when all was set, she could produce them as proof of her claims?

He didn’t care.

Fast Legs circled, cut the trail, and could see scuffed leaves. Like a hunting cougar, he hurried along, careful eyes noting the kicked leaves here and there. Yes, this was fresh, the icy sides facedown where the leaves had been turned by a careless moccasin.

He chuckled to himself, running as fast as footing would permit. There! He caught a glimpse of her ahead of him. She was moving smartly, walking fast. She kept casting nervous glances at the forest around her, but hadn’t looked back yet.