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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

People of the Longhouse (15 page)

BOOK: People of the Longhouse
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S
indak swung his club up over his shoulder and whispered, “I don’t like this. They look too eager to see us.”
“They probably just want to get started on the trail.”
“I don’t think those are impatient expressions on their faces—they’re murderous.”
“You’re imagining things.”
A soft morning breeze whispered through the trees, shaking the branches and swirling brown oak leaves across the clearing. Sindak studied Gonda and Koracoo. Neither looked happy this morning. Both wore their capes hooked back over their weapons’ belts, which made it much faster to pull out a stiletto or knife. Sindak’s eyes lingered on Koracoo. With her red cape pulled back, he could see her brown war shirt beneath … and the curve of her hip and the outline of one long muscular leg. Looking at her affected him like a Spirit plant in his veins. His pulse pounded and his mouth went dry. The only thing that ruined the image was CorpseEye resting on her shoulder.
“If they just want to get on the trail, why did they loose their war clubs?”
“Maybe they heard something in the forest?”
“Maybe they heard us. That would certainly explain why Gonda looks like he swallowed a handful of rabbit droppings.”
“Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, let’s pretend there’s nothing wrong.”
Sindak readjusted his weapons’ belt. His collection of stilettos clacked against his stone knife. “I’m not good at pretenses, Towa.”
“Just make the effort, will you?”
“Right up until someone jumps me.”
Towa brazenly walked toward the Standing Stone warriors, wading through knee-deep leaves. The colors stirred up by his feet were stunning: brilliant scarlet, pale yellow, and a red so deep and dark it looked purple. As well as a hundred shades of brown. When Gonda saw Towa coming, he stood up … and Koracoo walked a short distance away to stand beneath an oak tree.
“I don’t like it,” Sindak whispered to himself, and followed Towa with his eyes narrowed.
As they entered the clearing by the fire, Towa said, “A pleasant morning to you,” and circled around to stand opposite Gonda.
“And to you,” Gonda replied. The firelight flickered from his clenched jaw and heavy brow.
Sindak glanced to where Koracoo stood, then gave Gonda a solid appraisal. Their positioning reminded him of a war council, where one warrior was always stationed a few paces from the fire so he could leap forward and commit murder if necessary.
Towa smiled uneasily, knelt, and rested his club across his lap; then he extended his hands to the flames to warm them. “It’s frigid this morning.”
“Yes, and I fear I smell snow on the wind,” Gonda replied. He almost sounded friendly.
Sindak continued to stand, glancing from Gonda to Koracoo. Gonda appeared tense, but Koracoo’s face might have been cut from stone. She wore no expression at all.
Sindak and Gonda stared at each other in uncomfortable silence for a time; then Gonda gestured to the fire and said, “Please, sit down, Sindak. Warm yourself.”
Sindak waited for Gonda to slowly drop to a crouch before he did the same. He glanced at Gonda’s club, which rested near the tripod, within easy reach, and clutched his own more tightly in his hand.
“We didn’t have time to talk about the children’s trail last night,” Towa said. “Is it close?”
Gonda pointed to the northwestern edge of the clearing. “Right over there.”
Towa twisted around to look. “Does it head east or west?”
“Due east.”
Sindak gazed at Koracoo again. She hadn’t moved a muscle. It was unnatural. And he swore CorpseEye was watching him. The red cobble head had two black spots that resembled shining eyes. “Well, we should eat and be on our way.”
“Yes, as soon as possible.” Gonda reached into his belt pouch, pulled out his wooden cup and a buffalo horn spoon, and set them aside. Then he pulled a stick from the woodpile and proceeded to stir the half-frozen bag of gruel. Ice crystals shished.
Towa and Sindak glanced at each other, drew their cups from their belt pouches, and waited.
After an agonizing amount of silence, Towa leaned sideways to whisper, “Why is Koracoo staring at us like that? She looks like a hunting cougar.”
Sindak glanced up. Despite her chopped-off hair, she was tall and beautiful, and dangerous. Threat seemed to ooze from her.
Sindak whispered back, “She’s trying to decide whether or not to pounce on us and rip out our throats.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I’ve seen that look before. I was married to Puksu.”
Koracoo stepped forward, met each man’s gaze, and said, “While the cobble heats up, let’s talk about our goals.”
Towa blinked. “I assumed we were going to track the children, find them, and rescue them.”
“That’s the ultimate goal, yes. But we’re going to take it one day at a time. No running ahead. No guessing. I want only facts. We’ve had a lot of strong winds, as well as rain and snow. In many places, the trail will have vanished. Each of us must pay excruciating attention to the ground, or we’ll never find the trail again.”
Towa gave her a disgruntled look. “We know that. You don’t have to explain to us as though we are five-summers-old boys.”
Sindak said, “What Towa means, War Chief, is that we are warriors. So let me assure you that I am an expert tracker, and Towa is a genius with strategy.”
Under his breath, Gonda said, “And you’re modest, too.”
Sindak smiled at him, but it was a promise of death.
Koracoo continued, “Good, Sindak. This is the plan, then: I will lead, and Gonda will bring up the rear. You will walk along paralleling the south side of the trail, and Towa, you will walk on the north
side. Today, we stay close together, no more than fifty paces apart. If one person finds an interesting track, call out. The rest of us will work our way over to you. Do you understand?”
Towa squinted. “Of course we understand.”
Sindak asked, “But … are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Koracoo’s brows lifted, and the forest seemed to go silent. “I take it that you don’t?”
“I mean no disrespect, War Chief. I am just worried that they may suspect they are being followed.”
Koracoo shifted CorpseEye to her other shoulder, and Sindak’s fist instinctively tightened around his war club.
Koracoo said, “If the children were ordinary slaves, their captors would be herding them to villages to be adopted into new families. The warriors would be moving fast, interested only in getting home as quickly as possible. They wouldn’t be paying any attention to their back trail. On the other hand—”
“If their captor is Gannajero, it’s prudent to assume the worst,” Sindak finished the sentence for her. “Which means she’s watching her back trail like a hawk.”
Koracoo nodded. “Yes. She can afford no risks. She has been pursued before, many times. She must expect it as a matter of course.”
“So she may have scouts watching us even now?” Sindak asked.
“It’s possible.”
Towa exhaled hard, and his long braid sawed up and down his back. “Then is it wise for us to stay bunched together? If we fan out, they may get one or two of us, but it will be hard to kill us all.”
“A lone warrior is far more vulnerable, Towa. If we stay together, we can defend each other. So, for now, we stay together.”
Gonda reached over with two sticks, pulled the cobble from the fire, and dropped it into the gruel. Steam gushed up, and the bag boiled furiously for several moments before it settled down.
The delicious aroma of jerky and roasted corn filled the air. Sindak enjoyed it for a moment before asking, “That means, of course, that when she’s sure we’re following her, she’ll attack us.”
Koracoo’s hard eyes sent a tingle up his spine. “Expect an ambush, Sindak. If we’re on Gannajero’s trail, it will be there. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually she will take measures to eliminate us. Believe it. Prepare for it.”
Sindak held her gaze. There was a strange hypnotic light in her eyes. He wouldn’t mind seeing that every day of his life.
Koracoo added, “Just obey my orders, and I promise you that you will live through this.”
“We have sworn to obey you, War Chief, and we will,” Towa said. “Do you doubt that?”
“No, Towa. I’m just practical. It is one thing to swear it before your chief, but quite another to actually obey an enemy war chief in the midst of battle. But I hope you do … .” She lowered CorpseEye to her side and took a new grip on the shaft. “Because I’ll kill you myself if you don’t.”
Wind swept through the forest and blew smoke into Sindak’s eyes. He turned his head away for a moment, and it gave him time to consider her threat. Koracoo was right to worry that in the heat of battle he might choose to do what he thought best, regardless of her orders. Because he might. These were Standing Stone People. His enemies. He’d been taught that from birth. Not even his chief’s orders could overcome a lifetime of hatred and distrust.
Koracoo seemed to read the tracks of his souls. She walked around the fire and crouched less than three hands from Sindak. He could smell her faint fragrance, a mixture of wood smoke and something spicy, as though she’d washed her cape in water scented with spruce needles. She carefully propped CorpseEye across her lap and said, “Is that true, Sindak? Do you know your duty?”
“I know my duty, War Chief.” He smiled.
She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Good. Now that we understand each other, let’s eat and talk of other things. Please fill your cups.”
Gonda filled his cup, then backed away from the boiling bag. Towa came forward next, filled his cup, and went back to kneel in his former position.
Sindak tied his club to his weapons’ belt and cautiously rose with his eyes still on Koracoo. Her gaze followed him, unblinking, like a lynx watching prey. He went to the bag to fill his cup, then said, “May I fill yours, War Chief?” He extended a hand.
Koracoo slipped her cup from her belt pouch, rose, and walked around the fire to give it to him. He filled it. When he handed it back, their fingers overlapped. Conflicting emotions danced across her beautiful face: suspicion, desperation, determination. They stood side by side, the contact lasting much longer than he’d intended. By the time she pulled her cup from his clenched hand, blood rushed in his ears.
Koracoo turned away. “Eat as much as you can hold. It’s going to be a long day.”
Sindak exhaled the breath he’d unwittingly been holding and walked back to crouch beside Towa. He ate without a word, while Towa blew into his cup and studied Koracoo from the corner of his eye. Her cheeks had flushed. Towa gave Sindak an uncomfortable look.
And Gonda was glaring pure death at him. Who would have guessed that a man’s face could contort like that?
Sindak drank his gruel with one hand on his war club.
Somewhere out in the trees, a hawk shrieked, and the call carried in the stillness.
Koracoo tilted her head to listen, and Sindak had the feeling that she suspected it might not be a hawk, but a warrior’s signal. The hawk called again, and Koracoo relaxed and knelt near Gonda. She propped CorpseEye over her knees and sipped from her cup. Sindak continued listening for a time longer.
After a few more bites, Koracoo said, “Towa, as the chief’s representative, I’m hoping you can help me understand some things.”
Towa lowered his cup. “What things?”
“Your chief’s recent Trading mission seemed foolhardy.”
Towa straightened. “Why?”
“Warfare is rampant throughout our country. Why would your chief take his young daughter with him?”
Towa shrugged. “He loves her. I think he just wanted her close. He often took Zateri with him on trips.”
While she chewed a bite of jerky, Koracoo looked away from them, methodically surveying the oaks. “I find that strange. But then, I don’t believe in coincidence.”
BOOK: People of the Longhouse
11.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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