The Broken Land(115)
Kittle announced, “Go home now. Nothing more is going to happen today. Prepare yourselves. We have the finest warriors in the world. We will triumph!”
Kittle took Jigonsaseh by the arm and dragged her away toward the Deer Clan longhouse. As they walked, she said, “We must attack soon.”
“Agreed. We’re going to need every man, woman, and child who can wield a bow. Atotarho can mount an eight-thousand-person army if he wishes to. How many warriors can we gather?”
Kittle subtly shook her head. “The sickness and all the recent battles have gutted us. If we’re lucky, we’ll muster three thousand. The odds are overwhelmingly against us. We need the Flint People.”
“I know, Kittle, but what else can we do?”
“Did they look hungry? We could send them food.”
Jigonsaseh stared down at her. Her jet black eyes had an odd tightness to them. “As it is, we don’t have enough food to make it through the winter. But even if we didn’t need the food, it wouldn’t help. The fever has also taken a heavy toll in Flint lands. Chief Cord told me flatly that they have more than enough food for the people who survived. I fear our only hope is Sky Messenger’s vision. If they believe it, they will join us. If they do not …”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
Kittle released her arm and drew her cold hands beneath her cape. Her fingers had turned to ice. Several onlookers trailed after them, whispering, trying to overhear their conversation. She kept her voice low. “Where is Sky Messenger? We need him here.”
Jigonsaseh lifted her head, and her gaze scanned the towering chestnuts beyond the palisades. Their leafless branches swayed in the frigid breeze. As though she could sense his presence out on the trail, she said, “He’s coming. He’ll be here.”
“I pray you’re right, because we are on the verge of a battle that will devastate this entire country and cost thousands of lives. The least he could do is to march around spouting his vision to rally our warriors.”
Jigonsaseh nodded. “He will be here, Kittle. He’s coming.”
Forty-six
The sound of pebbles striking rocks woke Taya. The click-clack rang with such clarity that for a moment she thought it was someone chopping wood in the distance. She roused herself, sitting up in her blankets to listen. Sky Messenger and Gitchi were gone. When panic seized her heart, her gaze instantly searched the starlit forest for them. A storm must be moving in. The bitter night air nipped at her face with particular intensity. Taya threw aside her blanket and followed the sound of rocks being hurled.
She and Sky Messenger had both endured a terrible night. One Dream after another had awakened him. It was as if the Spirits were tormenting him. Often he’d cried out in his sleep. She didn’t know him well enough, and doubted she ever would, to guess whether it was dreams of the future that woke him, or dreams of the past.
I’ll bet Baji can tell the difference.
Jealousy stung her, but only for a moment. And that was a major achievement. For the first time in her life, she was learning to see the world through the eyes of others, and it had broadened her view considerably. What did it matter if he loved another woman? He was going to marry her. And they both knew the marriage was a political alliance, nothing more. Though, she had to admit, she couldn’t help wishing he loved her. On the other hand, she did not love him. She had only just come to the conclusion that his soul was still in his body and not out roaming the forest. She needed time for all of this to sink into her souls. However, she knew one thing for certain: She had to give up her girlish dream of marrying a man she loved. For the sake of her clan and her nation, she could do it.
When it occurred to her that Grandmother would be proud of her, she felt a little better.
In the past few days, she’d come to other conclusions, as well. She might, truly, become the wife of the greatest Dreamer in the history of their nation. That was worth a lot more than love … at least if the Keepers of the Stories spoke well of Taya of the Deer Clan, granddaughter of High Matron Kittle and one of the leaders of the Standing Stone nation—for surely she would become a leader if her husband became a legend.
A small pond spread to her left, surreally bright in the gleam cast by the campfires of the dead. The trail wound around the water’s edge. As she walked, she studied the owls sailing over the treetops, silent, deadly, hunting the darkness for mice or rabbits.
The clacking of rocks grew so loud she could almost feel them pounding against her skin. She followed the curving trail through a copse of maples and into a boulder-filled clearing. The rounded rocks appeared to have melted together, as though they’d spent thousands of summers conforming to each other’s shape. Upon the top of the tallest boulder, Sky Messenger sat, his tall body limned in starlight. He had his handsome face tipped up, as though conversing with the ancestors who peered down upon him from the Path of Souls.