People of the Weeping Eye(182)

“Twenty,” Two Petals said positively. “It won’t be enough.”

Old White felt his souls begin to drift. A sodden ache had started deep inside. Gods, it won’t be enough. What would he do? The voices of the Katsinas whispered in his memory. Home. You must go home. It is time.

A roar went up from the crowd. The Priest’s voice rang high and clear. “Point to Trader! They tie at ten apiece.”

Old White staggered, his legs weak beneath him.

“One more! One more!” the crowd began to shout.

Old White stared at them in dismay. People were bounding up and down; Swimmer was barking gleefully, his tail wagging. Old White was too dazed to stop the dog as Swimmer charged over to bark at Trader’s feet, his tail swishing, pure delight in his eyes.

To his credit, Trader bent down, rubbing Swimmer’s hair, whispering in his ear. Then he rose, calling, “One more! We will break the tie!”

The crowd whistled, stamped, and shouted.

Old White realized that Two Petals had stepped beside him, her hand on his elbow, steadying him. “Power swirls about us. Feel it? Like wings in still air. Beating all around.”

“Gods!” Help me!

Born-of-Sun took his mark, following his ritual. Then he started, sprinting forward to release the stone, taking another couple of steps, and his arm shot forward. The lance spun in the sunlight, flying like a thing alive as it arched down. It impacted point first, not a hand’s distance from the stone.

The shout from the people rose like thunder from the earth.

Trader himself applauded, a look of satisfaction on his face. The people noted it, their exuberance riotous.

“How can he beat that?” Old White cried weakly.

As if lost in a Dream, he watched as Born-of-Sun returned, nodding to greetings along the way.

Trader took the mark, and then, breaking his routine, he looked directly into Old White’s eyes, an odd smile on his lips. Old White staggered as if he’d been struck. Only Two Petals’ support kept him from toppling. He’s going to throw it. That’s what that knowing smile was. He is ready to stay here with Born-of-Sun.

A sickness began to bloom within his souls. Like a fungus, it began consuming him as Trader took the mark, rolled his shoulders, and sprinted forward. The release was fast, a blur of motion as the stone kissed the ground, shooting forward. Trader shifted his lance to his right hand, took another four steps, and cast at the mark.

Old White watched the last of his life fly away with that gleaming shaft of wood. It spun in the golden sunlight. Then it arced gracefully toward the ground. He had forgotten Two Petals as she supported his weight, could only see the stone slowing, veering to the left.

The lance seemed to hang in the air, and then it dropped. The sharp point slammed into the center of the stone with a loud clack. Wood splintering, the broken shaft leaped futilely into the sky, only to fall back and bounce, shivering on the ground.

A terrible silence hung, as if the entire world had drawn breath, afraid to release it.

“A hit!” called the Priest. “Trader wins!”

Even then, the crowd seemed frozen, as if they could not believe what they had just seen. Slowly, first with nods, then a couple of calls, the applause built. People were gyrating on their feet, clapping their hands, whistling, and screaming. Wolf Tail’s warriors had all they could do just holding them back.

Old White, mouth open, turned to stare at Trader, who was clasping Born-of-Sun’s arm, a warm smile beaming on his face. Even Born-of-Sun seemed shocked, but was making the best of it. He nodded, said something polite, and then reached down to ruffle Swimmer’s fur. Standing, he motioned for silence. It took longer than even a bad chief should have had to wait.

Finally, the crowd stilled enough that he could call out, “We have had the judgment of Mother Sun! Trader has won. And in so doing, does us all honor. The stakeholders will release the debts, and then we have a ballgame to play!”

The crowd didn’t sound as enthusiastic this time, or so it seemed to Old White. Many were no doubt realizing how much they had bet.

“Are you all right?” the Kala Hi’ki asked again.

Dazed and drained, Old White swallowed. “I think I need to go sit down somewhere.”





Old White rested in the quiet solitude of the temple, his eyes on the gleaming reliefs that hung from the walls. Firelight shone off the copper and made the colors come alive. For the moment, he was just happy to breathe, overjoyed that he had been able to walk back here on his own rather than be carried by some sturdy young man. As to their winnings from the chunkey game, he had no idea what to do with them. For the moment, the wealth had been placed in a storehouse. They certainly had no way to take it with them.