People of the Weeping Eye(152)

Pale Cat reached out to ruffle Stone’s hair as he watched the fire. “Flying Hawk spent years recovering from his brother’s murder. How many times has he said that if there was one thing he could take back, it would be that?” He paused. “Have you ever heard Smoke Shield regret anything he’s done?”

“No.”

“Maybe it’s just bad blood in the Chief Clan.”

“They weren’t all bad,” Heron Wing said softly. “Just the ones who are left.”

“Well, if something doesn’t bring Smoke Shield to his senses, his leadership could be a disaster. If the Albaamaha revolt, this entire land will go up in flames and smoke.” Pale Cat sighed. “If we turn on each other, the rest of the world will turn on us. No one will be safe. And you can bet the Yuchi will be out to make the most of it.”

Morning Dew listened, wondering, How can the Chahta turn this to their advantage?





Twenty-nine

How will I die? The question continued to run through Trader’s head as he stared out the temple door to the snowy compound enclosed by the mound-top palisade. The cold ate into his skin, a sharp reminder of what was to come. Cold, and pain, and unbearable heat. If the gods were merciful, he would freeze to death the first day.

From the time Trader was a little boy, Uncle had trained, coached, and tested him. From the first dunking in icy waters, to holding his hands out to flames, the goal had always been to harden his body.

“You must learn to ignore pain. It is only a discomfort, not the end of the world. Like casting a lance, the body can learn to bear pain. Unpleasant, but necessary.” Uncle’s words carried across time and distance. “You, Nephew, represent our people. Should you ever be captured, you will become the heart and Spirit of our people. Some lowly farmer, or potter, or stone carver, can weep, plead, and wail on the square. People will just laugh and spit on him. But you are Chief Clan. Should you ever face the square you will become us.”

Trader took a deep breath, his blood charged with worry. He had spoken brave words to the Kala Hi’ki. Now creeping doubts began to fester. What if it is too much?

It was one thing to just be dragged out, not to have time to think about the coming agony, but this way he had plenty of time to anticipate it. The worst would be the burning. Fire seared the flesh, cooked it onto living bone. They would take his eyes among the first things, because that had been done to the Kala Hi’ki. The old Priest would be sure of that.

Trader shook his head. It seemed like no more than a short breath past that his greatest concern had been how to protect his marvelous wealth in copper. Now, just the knowledge that he’d still be breathing come the next moon overcame all other preoccupations.

“You look cheery,” Old White said as he came to stand beside him. “Could I get you a coat? This is freezing here.”

“No. I had better get used to it.”

Old White lowered his voice. “You could run. And, as to me, don’t think twice. I’m an old man with a considerable reputation. I’ll take my chances. As far as Two Petals is concerned, I think it’s an empty threat on the Kala Hi’ki’s part. She’s too Powerful.”

“Thank you, Seeker. But it is out of the question.” He gestured to the snow. “They couldn’t ask for better tracking weather—assuming I could even get out of the city. No, I am bound. I am a Trader, and born of the Chief Clan. This is now a matter of my honor, and the honor of the Tsoyaha. I will not break the Power of Trade, or my promise to the Tsoyaha. If this is the price of being who I am, I will pay it to the best of my ability.”

“All is not lost,” Old White said. “When the Kala Hi’ki’s anger ebbs, I will make the offer to buy our freedom. It will leave us with nothing … but they are only goods.” He shrugged. “It won’t be the first time I have started with nothing.”

“If we can do that with honor, I agree.” He frowned. “I have recently been forced to reevaluate my priorities. A wealth in Trade is no longer as important as it once was.”

“I repeat, you do not have to do this thing because of me and Two Petals.”

“The stakes have gone beyond that.” He smiled sadly. “No, if this is what Power has planned for me, I will endure to the best of my ability. My decision is bigger than just us. We serve Power on this journey, Seeker. Not ourselves or the interests of our people.”

“Then perhaps you are worthy,” a guttural voice said from behind.

They both turned to see Kala Hi’ki standing no more than a pace behind them. How did an old blind man move so quietly?