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Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3)

Page 15

by Malcolm Archibald


  Threading between a hundred houses and beneath a score of the great steep-sloped mounds, they left the city and moved on into the whispering grassland of the plains.

  After an hour they stopped. The woman whispered. 'It's Chumani and her boys' and a deep voice grunted:

  'Enter.'

  Within a simple stockade, a dozen lodges clustered around a central space and a score of copper-skinned men and women waited.

  'Did you find her, Chumani?' The same deep voice asked.

  'We have Eyota here, Chaytan,' the woman said.

  'Bring her in,' Chaytan ordered.

  In the growing light, Melcorka had her first opportunity to study her rescuers. Chumani, the woman was even younger than Melcorka, a smooth-faced, almond- eyed beauty with sleek black hair and a slender body. The men who surrounded her were older, wiry rather than muscular, more graceful than any similar group of men Melcorka had ever seen before.

  'Let me see her,' Chaytan said, and Melcorka was escorted to the central space. She looked up into a face that might have been carved from stone.

  Chaytan was a warrior. He could be nothing else with his face and build. He was walking muscle with an incredible breadth of shoulders, chest, and arms that were smooth and brawny and wrists as thick as most men's forearms. Yet for all his impressive physique, it was his face that caught and held Melcorka's attention. Broad, he shared the almond-shaped eyes that were common to all in this gathering, but his were deeper, darker and more knowing. He was so obviously a man of intense intelligence that Melcorka could forgive him the tight slash of his mouth and the out-thrusting chin that she took to denote stubbornness or perhaps utter determination.

  'My daughter says that you are Eyota.' Chaytan spoke in a voice so deep that it reminded Melcorka of the grumble of distant thunder. 'Is that so?'

  'My name is Melcorka of the Cenel Bearnas in Alba,' Melcorka had been raised to tell the truth, whatever the consequences and it was only a few hours ago since Bearnas had reminded her to be herself. 'I know nothing of this Eyota of whom you speak.'

  'Tcha!' Chaytan said. 'I knew it was a waste of time! This is some foreign woman who only talks gibberish. Melcorka, Cenel Bearnas, what sort of rubbish is that?'

  A tall man stepped forward, holding one of the ubiquitous stone-headed clubs. 'She is not Eyota. Enslave her or kill her.'

  'No Akecheta,' Chumani said. 'She is mine.' Despite her age, it was clear that Chumani had some power among these people. 'I will decide what to do with her.'

  Chaytan gave a great roar of laughter. 'You and your boys have gone to a great deal of trouble in rescuing this foreign woman from Wamblee. It is up to you to decide if she lives or dies.'

  'She will live,' Chumani decided Melcorka's fate as casually as she would a mouse or a spider. 'I think she is Eyota.'

  'She would surely know if she was.' Chaytan said.

  'Eyota was the greatest woman ever to walk the land,' Akecheta said. 'She would not have to be rescued from Wamblee. The stories say that she will return one day and bring the people to peace and greatness.' He prodded Melcorka with his carved stone mace. 'This is only a foreign woman.'

  'What does the prophecy say?' Chumani asked. 'It says that Eyota travelled to the north to get help. It says she will return from the north as a mighty warrior, with a band of warriors who will cleanse the land of a great evil and bring an era of peace and prosperity.'

  'Mighty warriors do not get captured,' Akecheta said. 'This is only a girl.'

  'She has the mark of Eyota.' Chumani pointed to the tattoo on Melcorka's face.

  'A handful of sand will scrub that off,' Akecheta said. 'Look,' stepping forward, he grabbed hold of Melcorka's hair with his left hand and tilted her head back. Without thinking, Melcorka slipped her right leg behind his, lifted her right arm against his throat and pushed. It was the same simple move that Erik had used against Ragnog, yet it took Akecheta by surprise. He overbalanced and fell face up on the ground, feet apart and loincloth flapping. Following up her advantage, Melcorka quickly lifted his club.

  'I may not be your Eyota,' she said, 'but in my land, men do not treat women so, unless they wish to have this crushed.' She tapped the club against his exposed manhood and winked at Chumani. 'Do you wish me to continue?'

  'No,' Chumani did not seem to object to Akecheta's discomfiture. 'That would be a waste.'

  Melcorka looked and exchanged a secret smile with Chumani. 'That is true,' she said, easing Akecheta's injured pride. 'It is quite impressive.' She extended her hand to help him up and handed back the club. 'You might need this for a real enemy.'

  Chaytan had watched and said nothing. Now he spoke again with that deep bass rumble. 'Now that you have proved yourself a warrior,' he said, 'you can tell us where you are from and why you came to our land.'

  They sat around the central space, with others joining them so there were upward of a hundred people gathered, men, women and a few children. The men all appeared to be warriors, whatever their age, while the women were lithe and handsome, not at all backward in coming forward.

  'Is this Eyota?' The question was asked a dozen times before Chaytan managed to impose order on the gathering.

  'I am not Eyota,' Melcorka said.

  'She is Eyota,' the women murmured, 'the great woman warrior come to save Dhegia from the curse of Wamblee. There is some reason she is not telling us.'

  'She is only a woman,' the men replied until Akecheta held up his hands and stood in the midst of them.

  'You all know me,' he said in a voice that nearly rivalled Chaytan for depth and timbre. 'I am Akecheta, a warrior.'

  Men and women nodded their agreement.

  'This woman, who calls herself Melcorka, knocked me down and could have killed me.'

  'Or worse!' Chumani shouted cheerfully as the women laughed and applauded.

  'Or worse,' Akecheta agreed without malice. 'She may, or may not be Eyota, I do not know. I know she is a redoubtable warrior who carries the mark of Eyota.'

  Standing in front of the gathering, Melcorka told them that she was a woman from far away. 'I was travelling with my man, Bradan the wanderer,' she said, 'but the warriors of Wamblee killed him.' Even as she said the words, Melcorka felt herself choke. Bradan was dead; that wise, patient, capable man with whom she had travelled so many thousands of miles; Bradan who had helped her expel the Norse from Alba; Bradan who had stood at her side as she fought the Shining One; Bradan who had defeated the Morrigan with his staff of rowan wood, was dead.

  The gathering was silent, respecting her obvious grief.

  'He is with his ancestors in the spirit world,' Chaytan said. 'He will be happy there.'

  The emotion was so strong that Melcorka could not hold it back. It was a terrible outpouring of grief, followed by the deepest anger that she had ever felt. Losing her mother had been bad, but Bearnas had chosen the warrior's path and had known that a violent death was the nearly inevitable result. Losing Bradan was worse; despite their disputes and disagreements, she had chosen him for her man and he was dead; he had never been a fighting man but a seeker after knowledge. Now he was dead, dead, dead; murdered in a raid by the warriors of this Wamblee and the empire of Dhegia.

  She felt herself shaking and realised she had been openly weeping in front of these Skraelings.

  'Who is Wamblee?' she took a deep breath to control her breathing. 'What is he?'

  There was a silence that lasted for a good thirty seconds before Chumani glanced at her father.

  'He is the enemy,' she said simply. 'He is the most evil man ever to disfigure the world. He is cursed by Inyan and Wi.'

  'I see,' Melcorka had herself under control. 'You don't like him. I understand that he is the ruler of the Dhegian Empire?'

  There was another prolonged silence, followed by a low growl.

  'He is the usurper,' Chumani said softly. 'He murdered the king and took control. Now he seeks to extend his control over all the peoples as far as the northern seas and beyond.'
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br />   Melcorka nodded. 'We have such kings where I come from as well. Norse kings and Saxon kings and the like.'

  'Wamblee wants to rule the world.'

  'The world is a big place,' Melcorka said. 'Far bigger than I ever realised.'

  Chumani screwed up her face. 'I don't know how big it is. I know that Wamblee captured the true king, killed him and is extending his rule over all the tribes and peoples of the world.'

  'What do the people think about that?' Melcorka asked.

  'His own tribe, the Dhegians, follow him. They form most of his army. The other tribes are subjugated. We are treated like slaves or we live outside the city in scattered villages and small communities.'

  'How many different tribes are there?'

  Chumani looked at her father, who screwed up his face. 'I don't know. There are dozens, maybe scores. We are the Lakota; there are Oglala, Santee, Wahpeon, Yankton, Shawnee, Creek, Pawnees, Mohawk, Seneca, Oneida … far too many to name them all. Some are already enslaved, others are free in the forests or on the fringes of the prairies or are scattered like us.'

  'If there are so many tribes, why not rise against this Wamblee and kill him?' Melcorka looked for the most direct solution to the problem. She nodded to Chaytan and Akecheta. 'If all the men are as formidable as these two, then you have a good band of warriors to help you.'

  'There are two reasons. One is that the tribes are not always friendly with each other.' Chumani said.

  Melcorka nodded. 'It is the same where I come from. The tribes – clans we call them – fight each other rather than combining to fight the common enemy.'

  'There is another reason,' Chumani said. 'Wamblee sacrifices the chiefs of each tribe. Their blood is given to Inyan and Wi…'

  'Your gods?' Melcorka guessed.

  'Inyan is the Rock; he is eternal. Wi is the Sun.' Chumani held up a small hand to stop Melcorka from interrupting again. 'Once the chiefs are sacrificed to Inyan and Wi, their power goes to the priests, and the priests are all from the Dhegia, so they do as Wamblee tells them. The people of the leaderless tribes must follow the priests or their ancestors will be cast out of the spirit world to wander homeless and lost, suffering for eternity.'

  Melcorka nodded. 'I see,' she said. She understood the power of that damnation. She would not like to think of Bearnas' spirit suffering. 'Is there any way of getting rid of these priests?' She tapped Chaytan's stone mace. 'Like cracking them over the head with one of these?'

  Chumani sighed. 'The prophecy told us that these dark days were coming when the tribes would be subject to an evil tyrant who would enslave them to build his monuments and who would try and extend his dominion all across the world.'

  The gathering sighed, nodded and made small sounds of assent.

  'Did the prophecy also tell you how he could be removed?' Melcorka asked, expecting the answer that she received.

  'The prophecy says that Eyota will return from the far north. She will have a mark on her face and will bring a band of fierce warriors who will defeat Wamblee. Only Eyota has the power to defeat Wamblee and his priests.' Chumani looked steadily at Melcorka. 'I thought you were Eyota. When I saw you with that band of warriors defeating the border post, I thought you were the prophecy coming to life.'

  'I am Melcorka, not Eyota,' Melcorka said. She thought for a moment. 'The men I came with are warriors; they will help you fight Wamblee.' She shook away the thought of Bradan. 'I had a sword when I came; I would like to have it back.' She explained what a sword was to these warriors who knew war clubs, spears and bows. 'It is like a large knife, with a steel blade.'

  'I have never seen such a thing.' Chumani said. 'Steel?'

  Melcorka realised these people did not have steel. The only metal she had seen was copper. 'It is a very hard metal,' she said. 'Harder than copper, more supple than stone.'

  'Where will this steel weapon be?' Akecheta asked.

  'My sword is on board Catriona. That is the name of our ship; the canoe on which I arrived.'

  Akecheta's grin was cheerful enough to gladden the heart. 'Let's see if your weapon is still on board.'

  'Do you know where Catriona is?'

  'I do; your canoe is in Cahokia, the main city of the Dhegia Empire.'

  The name was familiar. Melcorka ran the word through her mind as if it was an old friend. 'Is that where I was held? The city I was a captive?'

  Chaytan looked amused. 'You were on the outskirts. Cahokia is the largest city in the world.'

  Melcorka tried to rise. 'When can we go there?'

  'Soon,' Chaytan said. 'Once you are rested.'

  Melcorka settled back. I am going home soon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They left at dusk the next day, with Chaytan leading them in single file, Chumani at his heels and half a dozen Lakota warriors in single file. Melcorka was next to last, with Akecheta at the rear.

  The night was clear and cool, with the wind murmuring through the long grass and the boughs of the occasional tree swishing quietly. Stars glittered above them, stretching into infinity from horizon to horizon, with a three quarters moon glossing the ground beneath and casting shifting shadows as the war-party passed. It was a surreal oxymoron to be trotting across a terribly familiar yet unknown land in the company of strangers she already felt she knew.

  Keeping pace with the Lakota, Melcorka thought of the other expeditions she had been on, fighting the Norse and facing the Shining One, but always then she had Bradan at her side. Here she was alone save for these copper-coloured warriors that she did not know.

  'I want Defender back,' she said to herself, 'I want Defender back.' The mantra gave her strength through that lonely night as they trotted across the great prairie. Twice animals howled in the distance, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The Lakota ignored the sound and ran on tirelessly through the night.

  The moon was at its peak when Chaytan raised his right hand in the air. The Lakotas halted at once, with Akecheta putting a heavy hand on Melcorka's shoulder.

  'Cahokia.' Chaytan said.

  Melcorka immediately recognised the city as if it was a familiar home. Surmounted by palisaded buildings, the great pyramid- shaped mounds dominated the quiet streets of smaller houses; the scattering of mature trees gave shade in hot days and shelter from the wind, the wide avenues that led to the taller pyramids and the immense central space where public events occurred.

  'It is the largest city I have ever seen,' Melcorka felt the atmosphere, the majesty, the vitality, yet it was not at all as she remembered, or as somebody else remembered for her. The undercurrent of fear was evident.

  'Stay close,' Chumani said. 'Wamblee's patrols are everywhere.'

  The Lakota warriors trotted again, keeping to the shadows of the buildings, their sandaled feet so quiet that even Melcorka hardly heard them. 'Stop!' Chaytan held up his hand again. They stopped immediately, hugging the shadowed side of a building as a Dhegia patrol padded past. There were ten warriors with half armed with stone-headed clubs, the others with short spears and every man parading a flint dagger at his belt.

  The patrol padded on. Chaytan gave them a full minute before he moved, with the Lakotas behind him.

  After twenty minutes they stopped between two small, low buildings in the shadow of a high mound. There was a stone pyramid on top, with steps leading from the ground to a terrace, and then more steps flanked by stone carvings.

  'That is the sacred temple,' Chumani explained. 'That is where the chiefs are sacrificed.'

  Melcorka stared up at the great stone pyramid. She remembered the sacrificial fires at Hector's broch in Alba, and how she had rescued Bradan. Now she did not have Bradan to rescue. 'I don't like human sacrifice,' she said.

  'Blood is sacred to Wi,' Chumani spoke as if it was a known fact.

  They moved on, sombre now as the memory of the evil that infested this place seeped through them. When clouds obscured the moon they moved in gloom.

  'And that is the citadel.' Chumani pointed
to the largest mound of all. 'It took hundreds of slaves to build that, including many from tribes that no longer exist.'

  Four brawny Dhegian warriors guarded the single great gateway that pierced a high wall encircling the base of the mound. Behind them, the pyramid rose in a series of vast terraces with each of the four sides bisected by a central stone staircase. Near the summit was another wall, and beyond that, the roofs and upper stories of a number of buildings.

  'That is the palace where Wamblee lives.' There was venom in Chumani's voice. 'That is where the evil snake rules.'

  'His time will come,' Melcorka spoke more in hope than expectation. 'But what did you mean: tribes that no longer exist?'

  'They are all dead,' Chumani said. 'Wamblee and his men worked them to death.'

  'Perhaps it is time that somebody removed this Wamblee,' Melcorka said softly.

  It was another quarter mile to the riverside, and then Melcorka stopped. Upstream the river had been broad but here it was colossal. Two rivers merged, creating a stretch of moving water, unlike anything she had seen before.

  'What is this river called?'

  'We call it the Big River,' Chumani said, 'but the name Mississippi is being used. That is an Algonkian word, yet it has spread.'

  'Mississippi,' Melcorka said. 'That is a lovely name. It sounds like the hiss of the river against the grass.' She nodded. 'I like it.'

  Akecheta smiled. 'We'll make you one of the People yet,' he said. 'Despite your decorated face and strange accent.'

  'I am Melcorka of Alba,' Melcorka began and then stopped. What had she left in Alba? She had memories of her mother and memories of Bradan, both now dead. Wherever she travelled, those memories would remain. 'I would be honoured to be Melcorka of the Lakota.'

  'We will have to give you a new name,' Akecheta said.

 

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