The Broken Land(124)
A slight breeze rustled across the marsh and swept the fog aside, driving it through the reeds and cattails like smoke from a bonfire. She watched it trail down the valley. Just as quickly, more mist rolled in to fill its place. The frosty world dazzled.
“How are our warriors holding up?”
Skenandoah gave her a firm nod. “They will do their duties, High Matron. They will stand until they cannot stand any longer.”
Kittle braced her arms on the palisade beside him and stared out at the morning. As he climbed into the sky, Elder Brother Sun blazed through the mist like a ball of flame in the middle of a great cloud.
“High Matron,” Skenandoah said cautiously. “I’ve heard the elders whispering. May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
For a moment, he appeared to regret that he’d said anything. His lips pressed into a bloodless line, and he frowned down at the warriors stationed at the base of the palisade. For her ears alone, he asked, “Is it true that the Ruling Council has already decided we will surrender at nightfall?”
Blood rose to Kittle’s face. She felt lightheaded. She prayed they would not have to resort that, but … “It is most certainly not true. Who told you that? No, never mind, it doesn’t matter.” She stabbed a finger at him. “We will fight until our last breaths. Is that clear? You tell your people that at this very moment the council is planning a great victory celebration.”
A faint smile came to his lips, as though he knew she was lying, but appreciated it just the same. “I will tell them, High Matron.”
To cover her discomfort, she reached for the cup that hung from a peg on the palisade, filled it from the water jug, and drank. She felt wide awake. More alive than ever before. As she returned the cup to its place, she saw clouds of snow billowing over the western ridge, then a slither on the far side of the valley. The mist eddied and swirled as though brushed by a huge hand.
Kittle froze, staring. Elder Brother Sun climbed into a gap in the mist and seemed to explode. Brilliance surged across the valley. The land became a flowing field of diamonds, whiskered with frost-bright trees. The stone arrow points of her archers glittered as they aimed their bows.
She gripped Skenandoah’s wrist so hard her nails drove into his flesh. “They’re coming.”
He nodded. “Yes. I saw them a long time ago.”
Fifty-one
Skenandoah disentangled his wrist from her fingers and dragged an arrow from his quiver. “Please find a safe place, High Matron.”
Kittle inhaled a steadying breath and marched away down the catwalk. As each warrior saw the enemy, sharp calls went up, and arms flung out to point. A breathless sort of anticipation filled the cold morning air. The prayers being Sung up and down the line sounded for all the world like the sweet notes of flutes.
Just as Kittle reached the ladder and started to climb down, Skenandoah called, “High Matron! Sky Messenger and Taya just rounded the Yellowtail palisade. They’re running for our gates!”
“Thank you, War Chief.” Kittle descended the ladder with forced dignity and walked to meet them.
Warriors opened the outer gates, and Sky Messenger shoved Taya through first, then backed in and spun around. “Utz, Hannock, there are two war parties less than one finger of time behind me. Bring more planks to barricade these gates!”
“Yes, Sky Messenger!” Utz ran to grab another plank from the pile inside the second palisade ring.
His voice had been commanding, that of a deputy war chief, and Utz and Hannock had obeyed him as they always had. It surprised Kittle, but if he wished to command in this current situation, she had no objections.
Sky Messenger strode for her granddaughter and with soft urgency said, “Taya, I must get to a high point where I can see over the fog to judge the battlefield.”
“Go. I’ll speak with Grandmother.”
Sky Messenger touched her shoulder, a tender touch. “One last thing. Please take Gitchi with you? Make sure he stays in the longhouse. He’s old. He—”
Taya nodded. “I’ll take care of him, Sky Messenger. Don’t worry.”
Sky Messenger knelt and ruffled the fur at Gitchi’s neck; then he hugged the wolf fiercely and said, “Go with Taya. Guard her. Do what she says.”
Gitchi gave him an uncertain look, but loped to stand at Taya’s side.
Sky Messenger trotted for the ladder that led to the catwalk.
Kittle studied her granddaughter. Taya’s eyes had a gleam. Her serious expression was that of a woman far older than her fourteen summers. “Speak with me about what?”
“An alliance to end this battle and destroy Atotarho.”