People of the Weeping Eye(142)

“I would never have guessed Red Awl,” Fast Legs muttered, blowing into his hands to warm them.

“His rise among the Albaamaha wasn’t by accident. He’s a hothead, promising more than he can deliver.”

“I would have suspected Amber Bead before Red Awl.”

Smoke Shield smiled grimly. “My guess is that we were all supposed to. But think about it: Amber Bead is an old man. He’s been cowed for so long all he wants to do is keep the peace.”

“Shh!” Fast Legs raised a finger to his lips. “Here he comes.”

Smoke Shield craned his neck. Emerging around the downriver bend, a low dugout canoe could be seen. A man was paddling. But that was definitely a second figure in the bow.

“Who’s with him?” Smoke Shield asked.

“Chaos! He’s brought his wife.”

His wife? Yes, that’s undoubtedly who it was. Lotus Root was a pretty woman with long legs and a narrow waist. A quick spirit flashed in her dark eyes, and her smile was backed by straight white teeth. The ribald saying was that Red Awl had everything: status, prestige, the respect of both his people and the Sky Hand—and the saucy perfection of Lotus Root in his bed to boot! Smoke Shield remembered her well; perhaps her fiery spirit would provide what that limp-spirited Morning Dew had not.

“Oh, so he brought his wife,” Smoke Shield said mockingly. “Too bad.” Then he smiled. “Well, if it gets as cold as you think it might, we’ll have someone to warm our blankets up in that cold camp.”

“Two of them?” Fast Legs asked dubiously. “That’s twice the risk.”

“I think we can handle an Albaamo woman. And what if she does get away? What’s her word against ours?” But Smoke Shield didn’t think she was going to get away to anywhere. “Come, let’s go and see if they’ll travel upriver with us.”

He lowered his paddle, pushing out into the sluggish winter current. Overhead, the sky continued to darken. A lighthearted joy filled Smoke Shield’s breast. How fitting—a storm really was coming.





Twenty-seven

Old White chewed thoughtfully; then he spooned up another mouthful of beans. He glanced across at the pole bench where Two Petals lay sleeping, her Dreams disturbed. She whimpered on occasion, and tossed under the deerhide blanket that one of the Priests had spread over her. Trader sat to his right, picking meat off a turkey carcass, tossing occasional scraps to Swimmer.

The dog watched them with that rapt attention that could consume the canine soul. His ears were pricked, the brown eyes pleading. Swimmer’s tail betrayed the barest twitch of anticipation. The faintest sliver of drool escaped the corner of his mouth.

The Kala Hi’ki was seated opposite them, his ruined body composed, the binding over his eyes pure and white against the corruption of his face.

Old White could see the question in Trader’s eyes, but the answer was self-evident. Only one circumstance could leave a man looking that way. He’d been hung upon a square once upon a time. For whatever reason, he had either been cut loose, rescued, or somehow managed to impress his captors with such resourcefulness and bravery that they had let him live. Those events were as rare as turkey teeth.

“Has the Contrary been in such a large city before?” the Kala Hi’ki asked.

“Cahokia,” Old White said after swallowing.

“Cahokia is abandoned,” the Yuchi said. “It lies in ruins with only small villages clustered around it. Has she ever been close to so many people?”

“We have stopped to Trade only in small villages. The Kaskinampo labored like slaves to get us through their territory.”

“Wise of them.” The Kala Hi’ki nodded. “She has lost her souls for the moment. They fled in panic to find shelter from the people. I had cast a Spirit wall around you, a way of containing any witchery that you might consider. It shielded her for most of your walk up from the landing. I didn’t understand what she was, or how Powerful she could be. She broke the barrier down. Can you imagine suddenly touching all those souls? Hearing their thoughts, longings, and passions? It was too much.”

“Too much. That’s what she cried out before she fell,” Trader added.

“She must learn to focus.” The Kala Hi’ki fingered his ruined right hand with his left, touching the pad of his fingers on each stump. “I cannot understand why the Cahokia witch would just set her free like that.” He turned his head in Old White’s direction. “This complication with Black Tooth … it turned out badly, didn’t it?”

“She killed him,” Old White said softly. “She blew the souls out of his body. Just a puff of her breath and he fell from his tripod like a stone. I’ve seen the like before. Sometimes people survive with parts of their body paralyzed, or their speech slurred. Some can live for years afterward. He just hit the floor with a thump … dead.”