“This is madness!”
“So her father believed.” Silver Loon lifted the garment from the trampled snow on the stairs.
“A young naked woman, walking into Black Tooth’s lair? Gods, we’ve got to hurry.”
Reaching the top, they found the gate unguarded. The palisade itself, imposing from so far below, was a rickety thing, braced by slanting poles where the bases of the walls had rotted out. The miracle was that the last storm hadn’t toppled it.
He might have been sick with worry, but he still marveled at the expanse of the high plaza before the brooding building. Old White hobbled desperately across the lower plaza, climbed the last set of steps, and entered the gate surrounding the three-story palace. This, too, was abandoned.
Gods, any sentries were probably waiting their turns at poor Two Petals. Somehow he managed to goad himself onward, approaching the palace itself. The building, despite dilapidation, was nevertheless impressive. Plaster had cracked off here and there, and he could see daylight through the upper-story logs. In places old cloth had been pressed into cracks to stop the draft.
The door was a thick wooden thing made of parallel poles. He muscled it to one side and led the way into the gloomy interior. No one seemed to notice. All attention was fixed on Two Petals as she stood before whatever kind of man Black Tooth had become. A roar of laughter broke from the men and women who crowded around. For her part, Two Petals seemed completely at ease. Her long hair hung down her slim back, reaching to her rounded bottom.
Old White took a quick glance around the room. Worn hides covered a floor where matting once would have lain. He could see more daylight through cracks in the walls. The hearth that should have held a grand fire cupped what would have served to cook a meager meal.
Black Tooth appeared fascinated. He sat jauntily on a three-legged stool like a high minko. The tripod, according to Cahokian legend, represented the three worlds—Sky, Earth, and Underground—all acting in support of the lord. The stool was draped with a silky black bear hide. The one that hung over Black Tooth’s shoulders was an equally prime specimen.
The man had aged, but his thick body still intimidated, and the red war shirt he wore did little to hide packed muscle. Scars crisscrossed the man’s wide face. Sometime in the past, a wicked blow had smashed his nose flat and crooked. For the moment, his head was back, laughter rolling up and out of his gut. Legs, corded with muscle, were as thick as logs. He held a stone mace chipped in the shape of a turkey tail clutched in his scarred hands. Two of his fingers were missing on the left.
“And what,” Black Tooth asked in a booming voice, “would possess me to do that?”
“The long life that stretches before you,” Two Petals said with an eerie certainty.
Again Black Tooth roared with delight, eliciting peals from the crowd. He said, “I will let you and the old man go? Just like that? Without paying tribute for passage through my lands? What do you think I am? Some petty chief awed by the Seeker’s reputation?”
“No,” Two Petals replied, a tone of great wonder in her voice. “You are the greatest lord of Cahokia that has ever existed. A thousand years from now, your name will be on every tongue.”
This time he didn’t laugh, but cocked his head. “Ah yes, we will rebuild Cahokia.” He lifted the mace, symbol of rulership since the time Morning Star first cut the tail from Cannibal Turkey and placed it on his staff. “Once more, the great temples shall rise, and again, the rulers of all lands will flock here.”
“You have made such great strides already.” Two Petals raised her hands. “Look at the magnificence that surrounds you!” And with that, she turned on her feet, eyes gleaming as she inspected the exposed logs, and sooty spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling.
Old White gaped, watching her. She seemed oblivious of the decay, as if lost in a vision that only her shining eyes could see. He blinked, looking again at the cracked plaster, the spilled pottery, and dusty wooden boxes scattered around the room.
Everyone else, it seemed, was staring at her young body. Her high breasts were pointed, the nipples taut. Her slim belly, navel, and the dark triangle at her pubis would have drawn any man’s attention.
Old White started forward, gripping his Trader’s staff as if it were a war club. Her next words brought him up short. “All in time, Elder. Wait. Dance with me.”
Silver Loon placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, whispering, “This is a thing of Power. Do not interfere.”
“Dance with you?” Black Tooth demanded. “Oh, you and I shall Dance, all right. Here’s how I do it. I put you on my staff, and you wiggle. You’ll like it. I swear!”