Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3)

by Malcolm Archibald

  'If it is my time, then I will die, Eyota.' Chumani said.

  Melcorka opened her mouth but it was Eyota who spoke. 'Then you may accompany me, Chumani, and welcome. Chaytan will arrange our visits. His name is known and respected among the tribes.' She thought for a moment. 'At present, we will only contact these tribes who are within a few days walk of Cahokia. The great forest tribes are too far away.'

  Chaytan looked into Melcorka's face, saw Eyota's eyes and nodded. 'It shall be as you say, Eyota.'

  Some of the tribes were scattered in the lands around Cahokia; others braved the vastness of the prairies to the west of the Mississippi, others further afield in the eastern forests. The Oglala were nearest. The Oglala were here.

  Chaytan was first into the lodge where the Oglala elders met, with Chumani and Melcorka at his back.

  'You all know that Eyota will return to remove this great evil that has befallen us,' Chaytan said.

  The elders nodded solemnly. They were smoking from a large pipe, passing it from man to man. 'We know the prophecy,' the oldest said. His hair was long and white and his face lined with years, yet his eyes were sharp as any man in his twenties.

  'Eyota is back,' Chaytan said simply. 'Here she is.' He indicated Melcorka.

  The elders surveyed Melcorka. 'She looks much like any other woman,' they said. 'Except for her paler face and the marking on her cheek.'

  Melcorka nodded and slipped on the head-band. She saw the elders' expressions alter immediately.

  'Welcome back, Eyota,' the man with the long white hair said. 'What do you wish us to do?'

  'Wait,' Melcorka said. 'Wait; gather your warriors and be ready for my message.'

  The elders nodded solemnly and passed over the pipe.

  'We will meet again,' Melcorka puffed at the pipe as if she had done it a hundred times before. 'We will let you know when.'

  They walked to the chiefs of the Santee and Wahpeon, the Yankton and Creek, Seneca and Mohawk and always the reaction was the same. The elders met them with courteous suspicion until Melcorka donned her head-band, and then they asked what they should do. Wise men with steady eyes, they did not question Eyota; they knew and respected the prophecy.

  The Oneida and the Pawnees were further out on the wide prairies, which necessitated a dangerous journey over land where the Dhegian patrols were active and aware that Melcorka was on the loose.

  'We're being followed,' Chumani said. 'Three men.' She lay down and pressed her ear to the ground. 'They are two hundred paces away.'

  'You two move on,' Chaytan said. 'I will wait here for them.'

  Melcorka nodded. By now she knew that Chaytan was as capable a warrior as any she had ever met. She had no doubt that he could deal with any three men. She trotted on with Chumani at her side. It was only a few moments later that Chaytan caught up with them, bleeding from his left thigh.

  'Two of them were Dhegians,' he said. 'The third was a young man with fair hair.'

  'A Norseman,' Melcorka said. 'Did you kill him?'

  'I killed them all,' Chaytan said. He showed the long cut along his thigh. 'The Norseman did that with his knife. He fought well.'

  'The Norse are fine fighters,' Melcorka agreed. 'I would like his knife.' Turning around, she ran back until she found the bodies. It was Sigurd who lay on his face with his head a bloody mess and his sword still held in his hand. Melcorka gently prised it free, unfastened his sword belt and buckled it around her waist. It was certainly not Defender yet still felt good to have a weapon again.

  'You look like a warrior now,' Chaytan approved.

  'I fight better with my own sword, not this one.' Melcorka said.

  Chaytan looked over the prairie. 'You may have to fight soon,' he said. 'If Wamblee is having us followed he may know what we are doing.'

  'Time to gather the tribes,' Melcorka had an instant flashback to a previous war when she was calling up the survivors of the Alban clans to fight against the Norse. That had been a precarious time, but then she had Defender on her back and Bradan at her side, as well as a thousand soldiers of Fidach as a backbone. Here she had a handful of Lakota warriors, an inferior sword, and no Bradan, while the enemy was every bit as ruthless as anything to come from the lands of the Norse.

  'What are your plans, Eyota?' Chaytan asked simply.

  About to say that he knew the enemy better, Melcorka donned her head-band and allowed the power of Eyota to take over.

  She closed her eyes. She heard the high piping of an oystercatcher.

  'Well here you are Melcorka,' Bearnas smiled at her. 'No longer alone I see, and planning big things.'

  'Mother?' Melcorka said. 'How did you get here?'

  'You brought me. Or rather Eyota summoned me.' Bearnas reached out a hand and touched Melcorka's head-band. 'You have come far since we last spoke, Melcorka, and you have hardly started.'

  'What do you mean, mother?'

  'You are on the first step of your journey,' Bearnas said. 'You will rise further than you ever expected.' She smiled. 'Power and honour and riches can be yours.' Her smile broadened, 'and as many handsome and virile young men as you could wish for; I envy you! Any red-blooded woman would be jealous of the life you could have.'

  'Could have?' Melcorka asked.

  'You will have a choice to make Melcorka. On one hand is power and comfort beyond compare. On the other hand are hardship and danger. One you will find fulfilling; the other you will find empty. You will have to make that decision.'

  'I made such a choice already, mother. I chose between luxury and the way of the warrior.'

  'You chose that when you took hold of Defender. Now you have lost her and must make another choice. The road will split and you will not see the junction until after you have taken your path.' Bearnas shook her head. 'You are losing weight, Melcorka. You have to look after yourself; you will need your stamina for all these men.'

  'Mother!'

  'It's all right; nobody else can see me.' Bearnas laughed. 'Only you.'

  'Mother: what do I do? These people expect me to lead them in battle.'

  'Well then, Melcorka. If that is what they expect, then lead them in battle.' Bearnas was still smiling. 'You make quite a formidable pair you know.'

  'I was happier with Bradan and Defender,' Melcorka said.

  'I know you were,' Bearnas was no longer smiling.

  'Is Bradan still with you?'

  'He is with me.'

  'Is he happy?' Melcorka thought of her laconic, sensible, enduring man.

  Bearnas avoided that question. 'Do you wish him back?'

  'Yes.'

  On uttering that assent Melcorka found herself in a strange land. She looked around, recognising nothing. There were no landmarks, nothing on which to fix her eyes. There were clouds and serenity such as she had never experienced before. There were people all around her, yet no animosity or any other feelings of negativity. Only favourable emotions were here; a sharing of love and companionship, a desire to help.

  Melcorka heard voices calling. She followed the vocal trail and saw Cahokia beneath her, with the slaves toiling under the lash. One young man was calling to the spirits for strength to bear his load. Aching to help, Melcorka stepped down to him and lifted his burden.

  'Eyota?' He breathed her name. His face shone with surprise and hope. 'Are you here to help us?'

  One handed, she lifted his burden.

  'Thank you Eyota,' he said.

  Melcorka touched him, feeling the strength surge from her into the exhausted slave. 'You will have the strength to bear your torment.' She said.

  'Will you be back to save us?' His eyes were ablaze with love.

  'I will be back' she said and stepped into the cloud once more.

  Then there was another voice and another. She knew they were prayers from a thousand different people in a thousand different lands across warm seas and frigid oceans, people with strange languages and unusual clothes, people with a thousand different cultures, yet all sharing the sa
me desires and aspirations and fears. All were human, bound together by common blood, common nature and common suffering. She could not help them all.

  'Melcorka?' The voice was distinct. 'Melcorka?'

  'Bradan?' She called his name, searching for him among the shadowy figures that floated past her, the hazy, indeterminate faces and half- seen souls, the red haze of pain and the grey weariness of those who had run the race of their existence and wished only for the finishing line and the peace of death. 'Bradan: where are you?'

  Then she saw him. He was lying on a litter within a poor lodge with two women caring for him. One was very old, the other young and shapely and beautiful. As Melcorka watched they bathed him in clear water and placed some poultice on his head, where the Dhegian warrior's club had left a fearful indentation. The slash across his chest was red and raised but healing.

  'You are not dead,' Melcorka said, and then Bradan was in front of her, shady as the others in this spirit world. 'Are you dead?'

  'He is with us,' Bearnas said. 'Yet he fights to remain behind in the land of mortals.'

  'Can I have him here with me?' Melcorka reached for Bradan, only to see him pull back. The young woman held him close, keeping soul and body together by the sheer desire not to allow him to die.

  'You are not here to have him, Melcorka,' Bearnas said. 'Eyota is guiding you here. You are not of this spirit world. If Bradan came here you would lose him on the physical plane.'

  'I want him!' Melcorka said.

  'You can help him live,' Bearnas said, 'if that is what you truly wish. If you do, he will be a different man. You may meet him; you may not. You have choices to make that could keep you apart.'

  'I want him alive,' Melcorka said. 'He has too much to discover to die.'

  'Are you sure?' Bearnas' voice was gentle.

  'I am sure.'

  'Even though your paths may not cross again? You have free will: your choices may lead you apart.' Bearnas was close, her eyes troubled. 'Your gift of life may mean that he is lost to you forever.'

  'I want him alive.' Melcorka felt her native stubbornness rise through the spiritual power of Eyota.

  'Then grant him life, daughter of mine!' Bearnas altered shape; now she was an oyster-catcher, flying around this clouded land, taking Melcorka on her wing to deposit her at the side of Bradan's bed.

  'Eyota?' The young girl was even lovelier close to, a plump- faced beauty with tears of compassion in her eyes.

  'You are working to save this man,' Melcorka said. Bradan's head was a mess. The war-club had cracked the skull as well as breaking the skin. A huge bruise spread over the side of his face, closing one eye.

  'Yes, Eyota,' the girl agreed.

  'Then I will help you.' Bending down, Melcorka put her hand on the ugly, seeping wound on Bradan's head. She felt the heat and the poison and applied gentle pressure. The bones were fragile beneath her fingers, grating together as she pushed. She relaxed slightly, allowing the evil to ease up into her hand; it tingled as it mixed with her love, then shrivelled and died. She shook it off with an exclamation of disgust and returned her hand. She could feel the shattered edges of bone and eased them together, pressing until they fused. The physical she knew she could cure; any mental damage she knew she could not.

  'He will live now.' Melcorka said. 'What is your name?'

  'I am Ehawee; it means laughing maiden.'

  'It is a good name, Ehawee.' Melcorka touched her forehead. There was no long future there. Best not say that. 'You will get a good man, Ehawee, and bear many fine babies.'

  She touched Bradan again. She did not wish to leave him, knowing that she may never see him again, but she had another life to live apart from her own. Desperately sad, she bent over and kissed him and then she was back in the spirit world, the oystercatcher was piping and she opened her eyes.

  'How long was I away?'

  'Away where?' Chaytan asked. 'You have not moved, Eyota. You blinked and here you are.'

  Melcorka nodded. Time in the spirit world, as with the People of Peace in Alba, was different from time in the physical realm. However long she had been with Bearnas, she had returned less than an instant after she left.

  'What would you have us do, Eyota?'

  The words came unbidden to Melcorka's mouth. 'Gather the tribes' she said. 'Call the chiefs together. If Wamblee knows what we are doing, then we must act quickly. We will give them war; red war such as they have never seen before!' She saw the delight in Chaytan's face and the anxiety in Chumani's. 'Have faith Chumani,' she said. 'War is an obscenity but the end result will justify the means.'

  Melcorka hoped she was correct. Eyota did not have any doubts.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They gathered where three white oak trees cast a long shadow over a hollow in the ground. The warriors came in single file, threading through the trees or trotting across the grasslands of the prairie. They came in tens and dozens and in scores; the tribes had sent their young men to war.

  With painted faces and bodies, with feathers and beads, with loin- cloths flapping above muscular thighs and carrying spears, war-clubs or bow and arrows, the fighting men collected around the three white oaks.

  Sometimes the young men snarled at each other as the rival tribes squabbled over ancient grievances, but always they looked to the three people who waited under the three white oaks, and they were quietened without bloodshed. On the left was Chumani, placid of face whatever she felt like inside. On the right sat Chaytan, chief of the Lakota, impassive and massive, knowing his tribe was behind him whatever he decided to do. In the centre, Melcorka sat cross-legged and silent, watching Eyota's people gather. Her people now. She sat still, unmoving, waiting for her time.

  After two days there were eight hundred warriors crowded around, waiting for her word. And Eyota's word was: 'wait'.

  After three days there were twelve hundred warriors crowded around, waiting for her word. And Eyota's word was: 'wait'.

  After five days there were two thousand warriors crowded around, waiting for her word. And Eyota's word was: 'wait'.

  After seven days there were three thousand warriors crowded around, waiting for her word. And Eyota's word was: 'wait'.

  And all the time Chaytan was busy from his seat under the three white oaks, sending out messengers, sending out scouts, gathering information from every town and village in the Dhegian Empire, watching the Mississippi and the other rivers, watching for Wamblee's response, waiting for retaliation, waiting for Eyota's word…

  After ten days the three thousand five hundred warriors crowded around, impatient for Eyota's words. And Eyota's words were: 'Isolate Cahokia.'

  The war parties filed out; four companies of three hundred men. One ran to the north of the city; one to the west; one to the east and one to the south. They moved fast and they moved ruthlessly. They attacked the Dhegian patrols and annihilated all they caught. They wiped out the men in the Border posts. They destroyed the supplies for the outer garrisons and established their own patrols, each one linked together so they knew exactly what was happening and all the information they gathered was passed back to Eyota under her three white oaks.

  Melcorka listened to the reports and nodded, allowing Eyota to analyse what was said.

  There were casualties. The Dhegian Empire sent out their own fighting patrols and clashed with the tribal war parties. Sometimes the Dhegians scored successes but because Eyota had ensured the tribal patrols were linked, they could offer mutual support and either outnumber the Dhegian patrols or melt into the terrain if the numbers were against them.

  'Many of us are doing nothing,' the remaining warriors said. They crowded around the three white oaks, impatient for Eyota's words.

  'Build rafts' Eyota said. 'And cut smooth logs.'

  They built rafts and cut smooth logs as Eyota had ordered. And they waited for her words. And her word was: 'wait'.

  After three weeks the Dhegians had realised exactly what was happening and had strengthened thei
r own patrols outside the walls of Cahokia. There were more intense and daily clashes between the tribal war parties and the forces of the Empire. Intelligence came to Eyota that Wamblee was gathering his Dhegians. The warriors waited for her word.

  'Increase our patrols', she said. 'Allow the large parties to get through. Destroy those that we can attack without casualties. Bleed their numbers without losing more of our warriors.'

  Within two days the tribes had eased the flow of Dhegians into and out of Cahokia. Only large war parties were getting through. The tribes waited for Eyota's words.

  'Cut the crops,' Eyota said. 'Hide the food in caches far from the city. Ensure the Dhegian war parties cannot get food on their way to Cahokia. Make them weak with hunger.'

  'Wamblee will be angry,' Chaytan said.

  'I am counting on his anger,' Melcorka continued to sit under the three white oaks. 'Anger impairs judgement.'

  The warriors crowded around, knowing they were striking at the Empire, wanting to do more. They waited for Eyota's word. And her words were:

  'Use the logs as rollers; transport the rafts to the river bank upstream of Cahokia. There will be no Dhegians to see you now.'

  Nodding at Eyota's wisdom, the tribes did as they were bid. They used the Norse technique of transporting ships across land to bring the rafts to the banks of the Mississippi and they left them there under cover.

  The rain started again, hammering at the land, battering at the lodges and pyramids and mounds within the great city of Cahokia, raising the level of the Mississippi, making the sentries miserable on the walls and ensuring the patrols trudged through ankle deep mud as they watched for the enemy.

  Melcorka remained beneath the three white oaks, listening to every report and allowing Eyota to analyse them and make whatever decision she thought necessary. The rain did not concern her; she was inside her head so the discomforts of the physical were irrelevant.

  Leaving a strong guard around the rafts, the tribal warriors returned to the three white oaks and waited for Eyota's words. She looked upward, where clouds were gathering in a grey premonition of more rain to come. The warriors crowded around, knowing that things were happening and that Eyota had a plan to save their world. They waited for her words and now Eyota stood up from beneath the shelter of the three white oaks. She stretched herself after so long and looked over her people. They waited for Eyota's words, and she spoke to them in a voice that could have come from the spirit world, it was so cold and hollow.