People of the Weeping Eye(42)

Paunch frowned at the fire. His white hair looked rosy in the glow of the embers. Despite his name, he was a thin man, hollowed out with age. His face betrayed too many seasons of sun, rain, and weather. Deeply etched lines camouflaged the faded tattoos of his youth. Now he fingered the skin sagging from his chin, and nodded slightly. A ratty brown hunting shirt hung from his shoulders and was belted at his waist with a double wrap of rope.

“He will have what? Perhaps thirty warriors? Forty? Is that enough to take a defended town?”

“Smoke Shield said that there will be a wedding. That Chahta from all over have been invited to the celebratory feast. Hundreds are expected to come from all the Chahta clans. People will be everywhere.”

Paunch blinked. “It will be like a hornet’s nest, filled with warriors from every Chahta town. Does Smoke Shield—arrogant as he is—think he will live long enough to even reach the outer wall?”

“Dreams,” Whippoorwill said absently. “He lives in Dreams. They are no more than mist in the forest.”

Amber Bead snorted. “Smoke Shield doesn’t strike me as the Dreamy kind. Unless, of course, they are visions of blood and agony.”

Whippoorwill fixed him with her uncanny eyes, and Amber Bead squirmed.

“Not Smoke Shield,” she insisted as if Amber Bead were a silly child. “Screaming Falcon Dreams his future. He sees his prestige and greatness in the eyes of his worshipping people. It is well that he Dreams these things.” Her eyes lost focus. “It is so much better to live in one’s Dreams. Don’t you think?”

“Dreams do little for our people,” Amber Bead muttered in return. Happily, he turned his attention to Paunch, who seemed particularly unsettled by Whippoorwill’s words. “Our people are worried about this. No one expected the Chahta attack. It came out of nowhere, at the wrong time of year. War is better conducted in the summer. The entire harvest at Alligator Town was destroyed. Our people down there will have to disperse, make their living out in the forest, beyond the protection of Sky Hand warriors. In little groups of families, they will be vulnerable to Yuchi and Pensacola raiders, let alone the White Arrow, should they come hunting for more slaves and scalps.”

“The Sky Hand have made too many enemies of the surrounding peoples,” Paunch agreed. “Some of them will take this as an opportunity to avenge themselves, and it won’t be the Sky Hand who take the brunt of it, but our people.”

“The high minko says he will provide whatever food is necessary.” Amber Bead watched Whippoorwill reach out with tongs made of hickory sticks. She used them to carefully lift the catfish from the fire and place it in a wooden bowl crafted from a slab of walnut. The bowl had a duck’s head carved on either end.

“And where will he get it?” Paunch asked, eyes on the steaming fish.

“From the Albaamaha granaries up and down the river,” Amber Bead answered. “Thank the gods we’ve had a better harvest than usual, but to feed that many people? Bellies will be rubbing backbones by spring.”

Whippoorwill used the tongs to pull back the basswood leaf wrappings. White flaky catfish steamed in the dim light. Amber Bead’s belly growled loud enough that both of his guests glanced his way.

“You had best eat,” Paunch added. “If predictions are right, we’ll be hearing enough of that sound come spring.”

“The combination of empty bellies and the prospect of Smoke Shield succeeding Flying Hawk could lead to a simmering discontent among our people. Even the Chikosi dread the day Smoke Shield becomes high minko.”

“What if an envoy were to travel to White Arrow Town?” Paunch asked as Whippoorwill used the duck-head handles to place the plate before Amber Bead. “What if someone were to whisper in Screaming Falcon’s ear that an attack was coming? What if Smoke Shield’s war party was destroyed?”

Amber Bead raised the plate and blew to cool the fish. “There will be chaos like we have not seen since the day the Chikosi lost their war medicine to the Yuchi, and the high minko named Makes War was captured and tortured to death in a Yuchi square.”

“You call that chaos?” Paunch asked. “The Chikosi replaced Makes War with Bear Tooth, and you’ll recall the sort of monster he was. It was a blessing when he burned to death that night. Things were better when Fire Sky was made high minko in the aftermath. What could the Chikosi have been thinking to confirm that murdering Flying Hawk in his place?”

“Smoke Shield carries the war medicine.” Amber Bead circumvented the tirade.

Paunch stared at him in incredulous silence as Amber Bead plopped a piece of fish into his mouth.