The young warrior’s face was alight. He wore his hair pulled back and fastened in a tight bun. “We captured two hundred prisoners in our last raid. The matrons are deciding who will be adopted into the clans and who will be tortured to death.” He clapped Raloga on the shoulder. “There’s plenty of food. Fill a bowl and join the celebration.”
“Actually, I’m trying to find War Chief Hiyawento. The guards at Coldspring Village told me he was here. Have you seen him?”
The youth craned his neck, spied what he was looking for, and pointed. “His personal guards are standing over in front of the Wolf Clan house. He’s probably in council.”
Raloga smiled. “Thank you. Have an enjoyable night.”
He strode away with his dogs trailing behind him. Each time one growled at a village dog, he shouted stern words, and his dogs put their tails between their legs and fell into line again.
The guards standing at the southern end of the longhouse scowled at him as he approached. “A pleasant evening to you, brave warriors,” he greeted. “I am Raloga, and I carry an urgent message for War Chief Hiyawento.”
The tall woman sneered. Perhaps twenty-nine or thirty summers, she had short black hair and an oval face. “Who is the message from?”
Raloga wouldn’t dare say Sky Messenger’s name in this company. That would get him cut into tiny pieces and fed to the village dogs. “A man called Odion.”
The guards looked at each other and exchanged annoyed glances. The shorter man with a broken nose and scars the width of a man’s finger running across his right cheek, said, “I’ve never heard of him. Have you, Kallen?”
“No,” the woman replied in a bored voice.
“Nonetheless, the message I carry is extremely important.”
“Yes, yes,” Kallen said as though she’d been hearing similar claims all day. “Sit down over there, and when the war chief is available, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“No, friend, you don’t understand,” Raloga pressed. “I must see him immediately.”
Kallen said, “Sit down before I crack your skull with my club.” She swung it to emphasize her point.
Raloga swallowed hard. “I have another solution. I will be perfectly content to give the message to you, his trusted guards, and have you relay it to him. That way, the responsibility for delivering it in a timely fashion rests with you.”
“Very well,” Kallen said, “what is the message?”
“Come closer. I don’t wish anyone to overhear it.”
Kallen bent down and let the ugly little Trader whisper the message in her ear. She straightened. “That doesn’t sound urgent to me.”
“Trust me, friend, the war chief will think it is.” Raloga bowed slightly, gave them an ingratiating smile, and trotted away with his dogs at his heels.
As Raloga hurried across the village, Kallen shook her head. “He’s an onerous character. I’ve never liked him.”
Gosha stared after the Trader. “What did he say?”
“Just that Odion, whoever that is, wishes to meet the war chief in the aspen meadow at midnight, and he’s traveling with a woman.”
Gosha adjusted his weapons belt, shifting it on his hips. “Should you interrupt the war chief? Midnight is fast approaching, and if the aspen grove at issue is the one just outside of Coldspring Village, it’s a hard run to get there in time.”
Kallen jerked an irritated nod. “Hiyawento said he did not wish to be disturbed. Matron Tila has never called a council meeting in her chamber before. Everyone important is there.”
“I know. If this is some sort of joke, I’d rather not be the one to pull the war chief out of the council.”
“Stop looking at me. I don’t want to do it,” Kallen exclaimed.
Gosha distastefully examined the celebration. Atotarho had attacked White Dog Village six days ago, and his people considered him a hero. The fact that his actions might split the Hills nation in two did not seem to worry him. The attack had stunned Hiyawento and the Coldspring Village council, and at least two other villages had been forced to put down riots over the outrage. Whispers of civil war were running rampant across Hills country.
Given the stakes, who knew what “a message from Odion,” might mean?
Kallen looked at the longhouse door curtain. Firelight glimmered around the edges, creating an enormous luminous square. Inside, she could hear Hiyawento’s deep measured voice making some point.
“All right.” Kallen straightened. “I’m going in. If he kills me, make sure my family finds my body.”