The Broken Land(5)

Deru gave Sky Messenger a nod, and his deputy lifted a hand in return. He was a tall man, almost as tall as his legendary mother, former War Chief Koracoo. She towered over almost everyone in the village. Tonight her son had tied his shoulder-length hair back with a cord that made his round face appear moonish in the firelight. Sky Messenger’s brown eyes had a tight look. Deru squinted, wondering what was wrong—other than the fact that they had just killed the families of friends.

Deru looked again at the warriors around the fire, but Sky Messenger’s expression nagged at him. He rubbed his jaw. The way the children had been roped together, it would have been very difficult for any of them to lie down.

Just as he started walking toward Sky Messenger, his deputy let out a shout and pointed. “Warriors!”

Shrill war cries erupted on the opposite side of the camp. Wampa leapt to her feet and shouted, “We are attacked! Grab your weapons!”

Deru jerked his club from his belt and led the charge through the deep leaves toward the birches. Men ran to follow him, their own distinctive clan war yells tearing from their throats as they barreled forward, preparing to do battle with Flint warriors … .





“Stay close to me,” I hiss, and trot down the muddy bank with the women and children slipping and sliding behind me. I have my bow and quiver over my left shoulder. A war club, stilettos, and a small pouch are tied to my weapons belt. But if we are discovered, my weapons will be useless. Despite the fact that they will soon consider me to be a traitor to the Standing Stone nation … I will not kill my friends. These are men and women I grew up with. Warriors who have saved my life many times over.

Which means I must free these slaves quickly.

The scents of wet earth and water fill the night. The rushing river covers most of the sounds we make, and every time a child cries, one of the women runs back to shush it.

I head straight toward two dead trees that lay canted at an angle near the water. They must have blown over recently. Ax marks cover the trunks where the branches have been chopped off and used to warm longhouses, fire pottery, and cook food, but most of the trunks are intact. I stop at the thickest trunk. Three body-lengths long, it looks like it will float thirteen people. The wood has just begun to weather a silver-gray.

I turn to look at Gitchi. He stands on the river terrace where I left him, his lean body silhouetted against the firelight. He will warn me when they are coming.

Whimpers and sniffling sound as the children, and the two women, gather around me. I stare hard into their terrified faces. Their wide eyes glisten in the orange gleam reflecting from the river. “You have to be absolutely quiet. Do you understand?”

Nods eddy through the group. One of the two women, the younger, maybe sixteen summers, asks, “Are we going into the river? It’ll be freezing. Can’t we run—?”

“No, Dekanawida is right,” the other woman, gaunt, with the skeletal face and short black hair, says. “This is the best chance we have. We can stand it.”

I say, “What’s your name?”

“Sagoy.”

“We have to hurry, Sagoy. Both of you, help me roll this tree into the water.”

The two women brace their feet, and together we roll the log into the river. When it’s floating, I say, “Stay in the river for as long as you can, until you’re starting to turn blue. By then, you will be far enough away that you’ll probably be safe.”

When Sagoy looks up at me, she’s shaking badly. “But aren’t you coming with us?”

“No. I—”

“They’ll kill you, Cousin. You must know that!”

I wave the children forward. “Come on! All of you, wade into the water. Divide up, six on one side of the log, five on the other. You—” I point to the young woman—“take the front of the log. Try to guide it around the snags. Now! Get going.”

The children splash into the icy river and grab hold of whatever they can. In only moments, their teeth are chattering. All I see as the log rides the waves is small tear-streaked faces.

Sagoy looks at me as though she’s on the verge of blind panic. “They’ll come after us, won’t they?” She wrings her hands. “They’ll chase us down!”

“Just be sure to put the river between you and them. Step out on the opposite shore and head straight for Wild River Village. It’s the closest Flint Village.” I cast a glance over my shoulder. Gitchi still stands looking at the camp. But I know I don’t have long.

I shove Sagoy toward the log. “Hurry.”

“But what about you? Where will you—?”

“I’m going to lead them on a wild chase. Now leave, before we’re all dead!”