“Of course.” Thin Branch nodded, taking his work and hurrying inside.
Passing through the northern gate, Smoke Shield could see the long shadow cast by the great mound and high palace. It fell like a gloomy spear point across the north plaza and the steep-walled gully that cut to the east. Beyond it, the river looked cold and dark. The fields in the floodplain beyond lay brown and winter fallow. Wisps of blue smoke rose from the lonely Albaamaha farmhouses. The view never ceased to astound him. From this height, Split Sky City seemed to dominate the entire world.
As they made their way down the long stairway, Flying Hawk said, “The scout tells me that the Chahta are in complete confusion. There is talk that they might abandon White Arrow Town completely. Some argue for immediate retaliation. To discourage that, I have sent additional scouts out with the orders that they are to be seen at places such as high points, or from across the river. Then they are to vanish, leaving the Chahta with the knowledge that we are watching, and any attack will be discovered the moment it’s launched. After the bloody nose they’ve just received, I don’t think they want to chance another.”
“What else are the Chahta saying?”
“Others are clamoring for a peace initiative. They would like to see some settlement reached whereby we leave them alone. I imagine that over the next moon they will extend feelers to see if we are amenable to such doings.”
“Are we?” He remembered the long Council session. His own clan leaders had sounded as fragmented as the Chahta appeared to be.
“That depends,” Flying Hawk mused as they stepped onto the plaza. “The third thing being bandied about by the Chahta is an alliance with either the Natchez or the Yuchi. Obviously they would prefer an alliance with the Natchez. That faction is hoping they can talk them into mustering enough warriors to seriously threaten us.”
“And again, what do you think?”
“I think the Great Serpent—the Natchez ruler—would be a fool to attempt any such thing. To seriously hurt us would take a large number of warriors. He would have to send this large war party all the way from the Father Water to attack us. They would need to capture one of our towns with its supplies intact just to keep such a large force fed. That attack would have to come as a complete surprise.”
Smoke Shield grunted. “Most improbable given that they’d have to send at least a couple of hundred warriors. Moving such a large party of men quietly and quickly would be very difficult.”
“And if they didn’t succeed,” Flying Hawk continued, “warriors would get strung out on the trails, making them easy prey for an ambush. No, I think the risks are too high, and the Great Serpent knows them full well. When it comes right down to it, why would he wish to involve himself in a war with us? We’ve offered no threat, no reason for him to pick a fight with us.”
“I agree. I also don’t think he’d want to weaken his towns by stripping them of warriors. Assembling that large a force cannot be done in secret, and he has his own problems with the Tunica and Caddo. They’d take the opportunity to raid.”
“I think you’re right.” They passed the burial mound where, for generations, the Chief Clan had laid their dead. “Bless us, Ancestors,” Flying Hawk called, and touched his forehead.
At the end of the ridge they followed a winding path that descended the steep slope to the river. “What of the Council meeting?” Smoke Shield asked.
“What of it? You heard. Most want to take a wait-and-see approach to the Chahta. After thinking about it, I agree. What point is there to risk more of our warriors in raids? The Chahta are warned now, wary, and have scouts of their own out and about. We won’t catch them by surprise again; and trust me, they would make us pay if we sent even a large force into their territory.”
Smoke Shield shrugged as they descended to the confluence of a small creek with the river. “I have no need to prove anything else to the Chahta.”
“No,” Flying Hawk said dryly. “You have what you went for.” He paused, eyeing Smoke Shield as he stripped. “I just hope you don’t see some pretty Yuchi girl next week.”
“I don’t need any Yuchi girl.” Smoke Shield laid his clothing atop his blanket; the chill immediately caressed his bare skin. He stepped into the water and lowered himself. Cold leeched into his muscles and bone; his scrotum tightened into a hard knot.
Flying Hawk laid his clothes to one side and splashed in, whooping as he settled in the water and began rubbing himself with handfuls of sand.
“What of the Albaamo traitor?” Smoke Shield asked.