She splashes into the water and swims for the log. When it gets caught by the waves and pulled into the current, the log bucks wildly and water splashes around them. No one makes a sound. Then they are swept around the bend in the river, and I lose sight of them.
A soft bark draws my attention. Gitchi has one foot lifted.
I wave to him, and he runs like the wind, his muscular body stretching out, eating the distance between us. When he’s close, I break into the run of my life.
Three
When Deru rushed into the forest, he found only two women sitting on the ground with their chins up, glaring at him defiantly. “What is this?”
He strode forward and kicked one of them in the chest, toppling her. “What are you doing here? Who are you? Survivors of the village?”
The gloating expression on the elder woman’s face struck him like a blow to the belly. She was proud. Of what? He whirled to stare at where the captives were being held, certain she’d been one of them, and found them gone, along with Sky Messenger. As the slow burn of understanding began to sear Deru’s chest, he gripped his war club in a hard fist.
“Utz, where are captives? Take six men and find them. Now!”
Utz ran, tapping men on the shoulder as he passed.
Through gritted teeth, Deru ordered. “Wampa, rope these two together and guard them. Hannock? Follow me.”
Deru dashed back to examine the place where the captives had been held. Utz and his men were scouring the area, following out the trails through the leaves. Dredged by short legs, they headed to the water.
Hannock whispered, “They escaped down the river! Where’s Sky Messenger? Did they kill him?” He immediately rushed to search the deep leaves for his friend’s body.
Deru stalked down the slick riverbank, toward where Utz stood with an ugly expression on his face, examining Sky Messenger’s distinctive moccasin prints. They lined the bank beside the children’s.
Deru took his time walking the bank, reading the tracks. Sky Messenger and the two women had rolled a log into the water. Its path was clear. The children had been running when they’d followed the log into the water.
Deru clutched his war club tighter. A painful mixture of shock and rage surged through him. He continued walking. A short distance away, Sky Messenger had stood surrounded by the women and children … as though they’d been listening to him. Had he been giving instructions? Telling them what? How to avoid being recaptured by Deru?
Deru looked up. Utz’s mouth was hanging open. The gap left by his rotted-out front teeth created a dark hole.
“Utz? Come here.”
The warrior trotted to Deru. “Yes, War Chief?”
Deru ordered, “Take your men. Follow the riverbank south. Find Sky Messenger.”
Utz glanced down at the moccasin prints and swallowed hard. “But, Deru, I don’t care what it looks like, I—I don’t believe it. He must have been taken hostage!”
Sky Messenger’s mother, Koracoo, was Deru’s closest friend, and his former war chief. She’d nominated Deru to replace her when she’d been elected as Speaker for the Women of Yellowtail Village. Blessed Spirits, please let Sky Messenger be a hostage; then he’ll only have to live down the jeers and taunts of friends asking how a bunch of women and children managed to subdue him. He’d be the butt of jokes for a time, but he’d be alive. Unless the Flint women killed him before he could escape. On the other hand, if he had not been taken hostage …
“Do you believe it?” Utz asked. “That he betrayed—”
“If you keep standing here flapping your jaws, we’ll never know, will we?”
“But War Chief, he’s as loyal as I am. He couldn’t—”
Deru gripped his arm hard. “If it looks like he’s a hostage, give him the benefit of the doubt. If it’s clear he’s leading them … or running from us …” He didn’t finish the sentence.
Utz nervously licked his lips. “I understand.”
The punishment for treason was death.
Out in the river, water splashed over rocks, kicking up spray. Streamers of white foam frosted the waves as they rushed downstream toward the lands of the Flint People.
“Be back by tomorrow at noon,” Deru ordered. “We will wait for you until then. Now move.”
Utz backed away, calling to his search party, “Follow me! We’re heading down the river.”
With narrowed eyes, Deru watched the seven men trot away. On the opposite shore maples swayed in the icy breeze. Snowflakes had started to fall, featherlike, softly alighting on the branches. A crystalline sparkle lit the air.
“He’s not a hostage,” Deru whispered as he looked down at the clear tracks in the mud. “Why did he do it? He must have known the consequences.”