The Broken Land(90)
She studies me, notes my expression, and says, “Who do you think attacked the village?”
“In the morning I’ll be able to tell by the decorations on the arrows, but tonight? My guess is Mountain People.”
“But we’re far from the lands of the Mountain People.”
“Doesn’t matter. A large enough war party makes territorial boundaries meaningless.”
We ate supper earlier—at her insistence—and I am suddenly grateful. It would be impossible to get a fire going in this wind, and I have no appetite at all. As I look around, the scene takes on the wavering and misted edges of a Spirit Dream. Thoughts hang like raindrops caught in a spiderweb, shiny, fragile. I can make no sense of this. But I must. And I must face the possibility that Father and dozens of cousins are dead.
Taya’s head moves, turning to examine the dark forest, as though afraid. “I don’t like it here. Please, let’s move on.”
“We can’t leave until after dawn tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“I need to meet someone.”
“You never mentioned before—”
“If my father were here, we wouldn’t have to stay. Since he’s not, we must. I need more information before we head for Coldspring Village. There’s a Trader who is always here on the last day of the moon. It’s part of his regular rounds. He will know all the gossip.”
As the stunned sensation begins to drain away, a cold new light illuminates the political ramifications. Whoever attacked White Dog Village has earned a swift and devastating response from Matron Kittle, and I—
“Sky Messenger?”
Curtly, I say, “Taya, there’s a soft bed of leaves right over there. Why don’t you try to sleep? I’m going to go stand guard beneath that oak.” I point.
Panic trembles her voice. “But you’ll stay in my sight, won’t you? If I awake and look for you, I’ll see you?”
“I told you. I’ll be right there.” Exasperated by this constant refrain, I turn my back and walk to the oak to take up my position.
Occasionally, when the wind shifts, ash and billows of black smoke completely obscure my view of the trail as it snakes down the hill and into the narrow dusk-cloaked valley beyond. A large pond fills part of the valley. Battered by the wind, it appears to be boiling, sloshing back and forth.
When the White Dog survivors arrive at Bur Oak or Yellowtail Village and ask for help, the matrons will be obliged to give it, and there is simply not enough food. At this very instant Grandmother must be calling in elders from all the surrounding villages, preparing them for the worst.
I glare at the tormented forest and think about the quagmire that is clan politics, of my own stake in it, and of matrons like Taya’s grandmother, who scheme and lie and plot so her own kin will remain in power. For many summers High Matron Kittle has been amassing warriors, keeping them close. In the past, villages were widely separated, many days apart. They couldn’t protect each other. So Kittle convinced the other Standing Stone villages to move closer to Bur Oak Village. That way, in time of need, they could pool their warriors and defend each other against attacks. It made sense. It also meant that she had five thousand warriors at her command—providing the individual village councils approved her schemes. And provided they had warning that an attack was imminent. White Dog Village must have been taken completely by surprise. Kittle’s rage must be tearing the nation apart.
“Sky Messenger?”
Startled, I spin around. “What is it? I thought you were going to sleep?”
She stands three paces away with her blankets pulled tightly around her slender body. “No.” It is almost a sob.
When I frown at her, she looks at the ground and nervously moves one moccasin back and forth through the fallen leaves. She looks very young and, though she probably doesn’t know it, very beautiful. Her long hair blows about her pretty face.
“What’s wrong, Taya?”
“Sky Messenger, I want you to come to the meadow. Please. Come and lie down with me? I’m cold and I’m afraid to be alone tonight.”
“I’m only eight paces away. I need to keep watch on the main trail.”
“You never try to understand how I feel!”
I suck in a breath and hold it to keep my temper in check. “Explain it to me, please.”
“I’m lonely! At Bur Oak Village, my longhouse had almost three hundred people in it. There was always someone to talk to, or conversations to listen to as I fell asleep at night. Dogs to pet as they trotted by. Here …” She looked up at the violently flailing branches that filled the sky. “There’s no one. No one but you and Gitchi. Please, I don’t want to be alone.”