Copper Falcon

by W. Michael Gear

  Green Chunkey said in a soft voice, “When I awoke this morning the last thing I would have expected was Red Mask’s arrival. Greetings, Cousin.”

  “It’s been a long time,” Father replied, rising. “You are looking well. If a bit fat and soft. Do women these days prefer poking fingers into that chubby belly rather than running them along rippled muscle?”

  Everyone but Green Chunkey stiffened, eyes widening as they stared incredulously, first at Father, and then at the high chief.

  I tensed, as did our warriors; we tightened our grips on our war clubs and shields.

  Green Chunkey let the silence linger just long enough to become even more uncomfortable, then laughed and slapped his thick thigh. “Still living dangerously, eh, Cousin?”

  “The frontier tolerates nothing less, High Chief.” Father gave him an impish grin and spread muscular arms. “Which is why I have come. I need warriors, old friend. For an entire generation we’ve pushed the T’so barbarians back into the hills, taken their land, captured them, made them build our walls and palaces … farm our fields.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “Something in the south. The Sky Hand People. They have begun pushing north with their Albaamaha allies, driving the T’so before them … sending them flooding down on us. We can kill three for every warrior we lose in a stand-up fight, but when we are outnumbered ten to one? Or worse, when they sneak in close, hit us by surprise? It has turned into a war of attrition, and no matter how brave we may be, or how well we fight, in the end, they will wear us away.”

  Green Chunkey fingered his blunt chin, eyes thoughtful. “You know what will happen if the Morning Star learns of your arrival? It could mean death in the square.”

  I shot a look of dismay my father’s direction. What? Death?

  “And then there’s the Keeper. If she discovers you here …?” He paused. “Or did you just want your grandfather’s copper falcon back?”

  Copper falcon? I glanced sidelong at father.

  Father laughed bitterly. “Nothing like picking a scab off an old wound, is there?”

  What old wound?

  “It’s your life you’re gambling. If asked, I’ll deny any dealings with you beyond kin obligations.”

  “I know the risks, High Chief. I could have sent a messenger asking for a squadron, but what would that have accomplished? One disembodied voice? Among a chorus all screaming for warriors? Here, standing before you, my life on the line, you know my need is sincere. Give me a squadron, and I’ll be gone.”

  Green Chunkey glanced at his councilors, saw a couple of meaningful stares in return, and turned back to Father. “It’s a major commitment, one that sends a substantial portion of my force far to the south. How would I know that they were cared for, housed properly? Or when I’d get them back, if ever?”

  “It is autumn. The T’so villages are bursting with the harvest and spoils of the fall hunt. Moving fast, and with enough force, I can crush them”—Father gave the high chief his charming, dimpled smile—”by winter solstice. Whoever you place in command as squadron first will be under your order to leave Copper Falcon Town at that time.”

  “I see.” He paused. “Red Mask, old friend, I will need to discuss this with others before I make a final decision.” Green Chunkey went back to fingering his chin, adding, “So you thought you’d just slip in, then slip out with a squadron before anyone was the wiser?”

  “As simple as that, High Chief.”

  “Perhaps things are simple in distant Copper Falcon Town, Cousin. Here they tend to become complicated quickly.” Green Chunkey’s eyes narrowed. “Given that I don’t want you here a moment longer than necessary, I’ll have an answer for you one way or the other by tomorrow at mid-morning. In the meantime, the Four Winds Clan house is at your disposal.”

  He dismissed us with a gesture.

  *****

  The Four Winds Clan house was communal property, and anyone born into the Four Winds Clan could claim residence there. I was told clan houses could be found all over Cahokia, each of the Houses that ruled Cahokia having one. Green Chunkey, to his credit, had food, water, and tea provided for us. After supper, as the warriors were rolling out their beds, I saw Father assemble his pipe, tamp tobacco into the bowl, light it, and step outside.

  My own affairs in order, I walked out into the night, feeling the faint breeze tainted by the smoky scent of thousands of fires.

  The clan house perched on a low mound accessed by a ramped staircase that led down to the plaza. Father had seated himself at the top of the stairs and was puffing on his stone pipe as he looked out over Horned Serpent Town. A woman was singing. Dogs barked in the distance. I could hear the delighted calls and screams of playing children. Somebody hammered on wood, the bangs echoing in the night.

  I seated myself beside him, staring across the plaza at Green Chunkey’s high palace. A yellow rectangle of light was cast by the open door; silhouetted people were entering and leaving.

  “You never told me the Morning Star would kill you if he discovered you in Cahokia.”

  He sucked at his pipe, then blew the smoke toward the cloudy sky. “We’ll be long gone by the time he learns of it.”

  I kept my voice low. “It’s always been a forbidden subject, but we’re here now. Since I’m in the middle of—”

  “A woman.” He studied the pipe he cradled. “She was an incredible beauty, flashing dark eyes, gleaming black hair like a wave of midnight. Her smile … gods, just the sight of it sent a jolt through my bones. Her body might have been a dream, supple as a moon beam, slim-waisted, breasts and hips that enchanted. When she moved it was with a grace and elegance that made a man’s breath fail, his heart leap.”

  “Did she favor you?”

  “I think she’d have run off with me if I’d had one more opportunity to ask.”

  “One more …? I don’t—”

  “I was married. So was she. I met her through my wife.” He made a dismissive gesture. “My marriage was political, a way for Morning Star House to keep tabs on Horned Serpent Town and potentially troublesome rivals.”

  “You?”

  He shot me a sly sidelong look. “I worried them.”

  I had seen my father’s uncanny charisma at work, seen him at his best with his winning smile. I knew how persuasive he could be. With his charm he could wrap the Copper Falcon Town council around his finger.

  He finally said, “My wife figured it out immediately. Cunning and sharp, that one was. No one could ever pull anything over on her. Before I knew what was happening, I was snatched from my bed by warriors, divorced, and exiled. They called it ‘given the honor of founding a most important colony on the Tenasee.’ I was told in no uncertain terms that if I ever set foot in Cahokia, I’d hang in a square.”

  “I suppose I’m glad that you didn’t run away with this dark-haired beauty. I wouldn’t have been born.”

  “What Power takes with one hand, it gives back from the other. Your mother was a remarkable woman … better than I deserved. She gave me you. I could not have asked for a finer son, nor could I be more proud of you.”

  For a moment I was stunned by the intensity of my normally taciturn father’s admissions.

  He chuckled softly, aware of my fluster. “Why do you think I haven’t married you off already? Half the towns up and down the Tenasee have offered their daughters.” He shook his head. “Horned Serpent House had me engaged to three different women before they finally married me off to a fourth. And the moment they did, I stumbled across the one woman who would fill my dreams for the rest of my life. All it brought was heartbreak and exile. I won’t do that to you.”

  “Do you think she’s still here?”

  He nodded, eyes fixed on the distance to the north, as if seeing her in the eye of his souls. “Oh, yes. But that’s for a different lifetime, and a different man.”

  “What’s this copper falcon Green Chunkey was talking about?”

  I could barely make out father
’s grim smile. “Our House may serve Horned Serpent, but Falcon has always been the personal spirit Power behind our lineage. Your great-grandfather obtained the copper at considerable risk, had the thing made, and it was handed down generation by generation.

  “My wife, in her fit of pique, had it ripped from my grasp as I was ordered into the canoe that would take me away.” He paused, apparently reliving that day. “I have felt like a piece of my soul has been missing ever since. That I somehow failed the copper falcon’s Power, failed my ancestors, and you.”

  I hesitated at the hurt in his voice, then asked, “Being here in defiance of the Morning Star’s banishment order is a death sentence. How long do we have?”

  “We’ll be gone by midmorning tomorrow. Not even the Keeper with her quivering nose can smell us out before that.”

  He stood. “Come, let’s sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day. And, as you just pointed out, the one thing we cannot do is linger.”

  *****

  Twice the following morning we were called to the palace. Each time Green Chunkey requested additional information as he called in Earth Clan chiefs and other important people to see if he could come up with a squadron. Apparently these things were complicated. At home, Father would have ordered, and the men would have gone.

  In the meantime I watched the sun creep across the sky, finger by finger, all the while feeling the growing tension. Father hid his worry, but his faint sheen of nervous perspiration was more than just the warm sun. The muscles in his shoulders had tightened; a man of legendary appetite, he waved away a midday meal: corn cake with roasted turkey meat.

  One of the slaves came trotting down the stairs from where Green Chunkey had been in council with the Snapping Turtle Clan chief. The boy spotted us and came at a run. Dropping to one knee he explained, “The high chief wants me to tell you that he has most of your squadron. The Snapping Turtle Clan chief will agree, assuming the clan matron approves.”

  “And how long will that be?” I asked irritably.

  “A runner has already been sent,” the youth assured me.

  High sun had passed and I was playing chunkey on one of the superbly graded clay courts when the warriors arrived. Twenty of them, armed and dangerous looking. They stopped at the foot of the palace, grounded their weapons, and waited while a squadron first trotted up the stairs.

  “I hope those are the first of our new warriors,” Father murmured as I took my place at the mark. “They look seasoned.”

  I rolled my stone, made my cast, and lost the point. By that time the squadron first had descended the stairs and led his twenty our way. “You might have your wish.”

  I thought luck was with us when the first stopped before my father, but the rest of his warriors surrounded us in a most ominous manner. Then the first stated matter-of-factly, “Chief Red Mask, by order of the Clan Keeper Blue Heron you will accompany us.”

  Father looked stunned.

  “This is the high chief of Copper Falcon Town!” I cried, my voice loud enough to alert our warriors where they lounged on the lower stairs of the clan house. Promptly they were on their feet, grabbing up war clubs, bows, and quivers.

  The Clan Keeper’s warriors tensed, a wolfish anticipation in their eyes. We were heartbeats away from teaching Cahokians a lesson in warfare they’d—

  “No,” Father bellowed, raising his hands. “Stand down! Do nothing.” He pointed a finger my way. “One wrong move and this will end in blood. Our warriors are to stay here.”

  I met the squadron first’s hard gaze with my own, saying in T’so, which I was sure he didn’t understand, “We can take them, Father. They’re town warriors.”

  “And what?” Father asked in return. “Try to fight our way clear back to the canoe landing? Who will aid us? Green Chunkey? Do you really think he’ll choose a distant cousin over open rebellion against the Morning Star?”

  “But I—”

  “It’s up to you, Flint Knife.” The intense look Father gave me shook me to the bones. “Until this is resolved, our warriors stay here, in Horned Serpent Town. Safe. All is not yet lost, but if I don’t make it back, take the squadron and go save our people. That’s my order to you.”

  With no other choice, I ordered our bristling, angry fighting men to wait at the clan house. The Keeper’s men tied father’s wrists together and, holding a thong that led to the binding, started off at a run.

  Fists clenched, I watched them go, my souls torn.

  “He didn’t say you had to stay, just us!” Fast Call reminded. “Go! If you need us, we’ll be here.”

  I threw him a relieved salute and started off at a dog trot, trailing along behind, not even taking time to gather my weapons or blankets. All I had was my red granite chunkey stone and a lance.

  For the rest of the day, we followed a well-beaten route north through clusters of buildings, fields, and endless houses. At a call from the Keeper’s first, people slipped to the side, allowing the warriors to pass. Had I not been scared sick about Father, I would have loved to have lingered and marveled over the buildings, the sculpted guardian posts, and the remarkable items offered by roadside Traders.

  Instead I spent that long hot run promising to rain mayhem and ruin on this mysterious Clan Keeper—and even the Morning Star himself should anything untoward happen to Father.

  I had begun to consider myself adjusted to Cahokia’s marvels … right up to the moment that my father’s captors led us up the Moon Road, past the Earth Moiety’s mighty temples, and into the great plaza. Ahead of me, across the sweeping, grassy expanse, the Morning Star’s towering mound rose into the sky like a monumental wedge.

  I stopped short and stared up with disbelieving eyes. Could humans have built such a thing? Truly, I could believe a god lived up on that incredible height, behind those tall walls. His abode would have been in that impossible, steep-roofed temple with its guardian poles and a huge World Tree piercing the sky like a mighty spear. An elevated terrace jutted from the southern slope; it could only be one thing: the site of the legendary Council House, its thatch roof visible above its protective wall. A broad stairway provided access from the plaza.

  The warriors, parting the crowd, led Father around the western side of the Great Plaza, lest they interfere with the stickball game being waged on the grass just this side of the mighty bald cypress World Tree pole. Lightning-riven, the World Tree dominated the center of the plaza. Throngs of people watched the game, shouting and clapping, calling encouragement to the players. Behind them sat ranks of Traders, artisans, and food vendors.

  Towering above the crowd, and on all sides of the plaza, rose the high mounds with their temples, palaces, and society houses—places I had only heard of, and never actually thought to see. We passed beneath the palace of the Great Sky, the Tonka’tzi—a magnificent building constructed from intricately carved timbers and roofed with freshly cut thatch. The Great Sky was the head of Morning Star House, the titular leader of the entire Four Winds Clan. Beyond, just across the Avenue of the Sun, and an arrow-shot west of the Morning Star’s mound, stood Lady Night Shadow Star’s palace. Not only was she the Tonka’tzi’s eldest daughter, she was said to be something of a wildcat and a handful. West of that, along the fabled Avenue of the Sun, lay another building-rimmed plaza and what turned out to be our destination: the Keeper’s mound-top palace.

  There, Father was ordered to wait, surrounded by his guard. He kept shooting me worried glances, signing with his hands for me not to interfere, to let be what would be.

  As if musing to himself, he called in T’so, “Stand down. Say nothing to draw attention to yourself. Do you understand?”

  Didn’t they understand who they were dealing with? I was my father’s son, and he was high chief of Copper Falcon Town. And what did these soft city-bred warriors know of fighting, war, or death? If this went wrong, I was going back for our warriors, and then, by the double heads of Hunga Ahiuto, I would carve a bloody path right through the middle of Cahokia.

  N
early a hand of time passed before I could stand it no longer. Stepping close, I shouted, “How did they know you were here?”

  “The Keeper has eyes everywhere,” the squadron first replied. “She knows everything, hears everything.”

  Father said, “She must have gained a bit of craft over the years.”

  “Oh, of course,” the squadron first agreed. “Far more crafty than any exiled chief who steps ashore at the canoe landing … and leaves two loud-mouthed warriors to guard his canoe. You know, the kind of rude country dolts who brag that they are from Copper Falcon Town, and in the company of their chief?”

  “I’m not here to cause trouble,” Father insisted.

  “Tell it to the Keeper,” the first muttered. “Here she comes now.”

  I turned to see eight burly porters bearing a litter chair westward down the Avenue of the Sun. High above the crowd, a sunshade over her head, sat a finely dressed, gray-haired woman. The sun-burst tattoos on her cheeks had faded, and her lined face betrayed her years. She fixed hard black eyes on Father where he stood defiantly, surrounded by her warriors. A faint smile crossed her thin brown lips.

  At a signal her porters lowered her; one reached down to help her to her feet. She wore a white hemp dress, immaculately woven, the Four Winds Clan symbols embroidered in black on the fine fabric. No less than seven shell necklaces hung at her throat. Her graying hair was pinned high on her head by a polished copper piece in the shape of a turkey-tail mace.

  “Hello, Red Mask.” Her voice was firm, commanding. With an arrogance born of prestige and authority, she walked past the guard to stare up at my father. “How long has it been? Twenty summers? Twenty-two?”

  “Closer to thirty,” Father countered as he pulled himself to his full height.

  “That long?” She chuckled. “But then, thinking back, I’ve thrown a lot of men out of my house since that day.” She tapped an insolent finger on Father’s muscular chest. “You taught me how easy it was.”

  “Why am I here, Keeper?”

  She narrowed her eyes as she took Father’s measure. “Why are you?”