Was it his imagination, or did he hear dark wings beating in the air above him?
He glanced up into the night, feeling the patter of rain on his head and shoulders. Images of a Dream came back to him. In it, he’d seen his dead brother’s body as it had been the day Flying Hawk had killed him. He had still clutched the stone he’d used to pound his brother’s brains out of his head. That’s when the mysterious Spirit Being had come. The Being was handsome, a glow surrounding his body.
“You have done everything,” the Being had said. “All that will be, you have wrought to obtain the high minko’s chair.” And then he had said, “In the end, it is a struggle between brothers.”
At the time, Flying Hawk had thought that referred to him and his own brother. Now, hearing that Green Snake was alive and returning to the Sky Hand, could it have been something else?
After that, the Spirit Being had extended arms that turned into mighty black wings and leapt into the air. The sound they had made was exactly like what he had just heard. He shot a nervous glance into the storm-thick night sky. Are you up there, even now, watching me?
At a sudden pain, Flying Hawk raised a hand to his chest. Oh, he remembered that Dream. Unable to sleep, he had walked out into the great room and stared at the large carving of the Seeing Hand. The hair had stood at the back of his neck, for he would have sworn the great carved eye in the hand’s palm had been crying.
Was it crying for me? Or for my people?
He shook off the premonition, wondering where Smoke Shield had disappeared to. Even with three warriors, if Smoke Shield was up there, he could “accidentally” bump one, sending the whole lot of them tumbling down the long ramp, or off of its sides. The younger warriors might only end up with broken bones, but it had the probability of killing an older man like him.
Green Snake is alive, among the Yuchi! And now they were going to war with them.
Fleeting images of a bright-eyed boy flashed from his souls.
Ah, Green Snake, I never did right by you.
He had been the first hope. Smart and quick of wit and body, Green Snake had been what neither Flying Hawk nor his brother, Acorn, had been. It was as if Power had granted his line a second chance, drawing the distinction more clearly between Smoke Shield and Green Snake: red and white, two versions of the same boys. Choose between them. But even that chance had ended in disaster. It all went back to the night of the terrible fire. Power had been shifted long ago, taken by the self-same Yuchi against whom they were now going to war. Everything had gone wrong with the capture of High Minko Makes War and the loss of the war medicine.
Now, so far away from those terrible days, he was still living in their shadow. He wondered, “If Father hadn’t been the brutal and soul-sick man he’d been, would it have changed anything?”
“Your father is the finest war chief I have ever seen,” Kosi Fighting Hawk had said. “He has handed the Yuchi one stinging defeat after another. The warriors believe in him. And that is half the challenge of war.”
He carefully placed his feet, taking another step, wishing the wind wasn’t whipping around. It was always stiffer so high on the stairway. The wooden steps were shifting. He needed to have a crew attend to them. His chest continued to sting with each movement he made.
Did I have to let Smoke Shield do this to me?
Did any of this have to happen?
He looked out at the night, wondering what had happened to the boy who had once been called Grape. How did he end up like this?
“It always comes down to brothers.” He swallowed hard, blinking back tears.
Old White clapped his hands in satisfaction as he stood in the morning sunshine. Puffy clouds scudded off to the northeast, driven by mild winds from the gulf. For two days the group had huddled beneath the landing ramada until inquiry had brought Old White to a Skunk Clan man who was willing to Trade the use of an empty house for a copper nugget.
In between bouts of pouring rain they had moved the packs here, swept out the refuse, driven out a nest of mice and two wood rats, and taken up residence. Paunch spent most of his time inside, looking odd with a completely shaved head. He had the most peculiarly shaped skull, like an oversized crabapple with dents in it. Looking at him took some getting used to.
Funny what people would do to themselves to avoid being hung in a square.
“Are you going out?” Trader asked, appearing in the door behind Old White.
“I think it’s time one of us looks around.” He nodded at the neighbor woman who had come out to pound corn in her pestle. Her name was Squash Blossom, and she’d been most curious, fascinated to hear they were Traders and staying for a while. She had taken to bringing bowls of steaming corn, beans, squash breads, and anything else, just to shoot speculative glances at their packs where they rested on the benches.