Spotted Wrist whirled on his heel, pointing a hard finger. “You go get her, Blood Talon. Whatever it takes, you bring her back to me alive and unharmed or don’t bother to come back. Get on about it. I don’t care if you have to follow her all the way to Cofitachequi. Bring her back or be sure you die in the process. Fail me, and you will wish you’d cut your own throat.”
Eighteen
The river was mesmerizing. Constantly moving, churning, alive as it swirled, curled, and twisted. Forever changing its patterns while remaining the same. It felt eternal, yet forever fresh.
Night Shadow Star could stare at it, entranced, as finger after finger of time passed. Given the overcast and the few falling flakes, the surface looked opaque, leaden, with a galena-like metallic sheen. At least until she craned her neck to stare straight into the depths. When she got the angle right she could see down into the murky transparency.
Red Reed, true to White Mat’s brag, slipped through the water like an arrow, steady as the Traders plied their paddles to keep them racing ahead of the main current. They proceeded past the tree-lined banks with a reassuring speed.
“Too bad the Father Water doesn’t run all the way to Cofitachequi,” Fire Cat noted from the seat beside her.
To her surprise, he’d picked up a paddle first thing and hadn’t let up. Working just as hard as the others. As if he were one of them and not a passenger like she was.
She shot a glance over her shoulder, looking back upriver.
Piasa whispered, “Say farewell to everything you ever knew.”
“Farewell,” she whispered, glancing over the side again to see if there was a blue glow in the water beneath them. The river was Piasa’s world. Down in those depths she’d come face-to-face with him the day she’d tried to kill Walking Smoke.
Right down there, in this same murky and streaming water.
For all she knew the Spirit Beast was keeping pace, racing along the bottom, his clawed feet disturbing the mud, moss, fish, and clams as he lurked under their keel.
“Yes, you understand.”
She took a deep breath of the cold air, watched her exhalation fog and vanish into the chill breeze.
“Kill me, Lord, and who brings down Walking Smoke? You need me to make it to Cofitachequi alive.”
The rest of the Traders were shooting uneasy glances her way. She closed her eyes, willed herself to be calm. To the others she said, “You’ve heard that Piasa possesses my souls?”
“Something,” White Mat said tersely.
“The beast devoured them when I sent them to the Underworld in search of my dead husband.” And then she lied. “You need to know that on this trip, you are doing Piasa’s bidding. You have his protection. Sometimes I lose this world. My souls drift. It is unsettling, I know, but after the first few times, you’ll become accustomed to it.”
“Whatever you say,” Half Root muttered uneasily from her seat behind Night Shadow Star.
Though she’d tried to say it nonchalantly, the woman might just as well have screamed her fear out loud.
“How will you win their trust?” Piasa wondered, his voice seeming to float in the air beside her.
She glanced again over her shoulder, looking upriver toward Cahokia. Everything she knew was back there. She had never traveled beyond The Chains, a day’s travel to the south. Hardly traveled more than a couple of days’ journey in any direction from the city, for that matter.
And here she was, headed at a rapid clip into the unknown. Into a world about which she had no clue. For the first time in her life, she was no longer Lady Night Shadow Star of the Morning Star House, of the Four Winds Clan, of the Sky Moiety. She had no House, no servants, no prestige or authority. On the river she was just a woman, nameless, helpless. Vulnerable.
That reality sent a sliver of fear into her. Yes, she had a couple of packs and a box of Trade, a couple of changes of clothes, one dress outfit, and a sack of her jewelry and paints. But beyond that?
“Who am I?” she asked plaintively, her half-panicked gaze on the roiling water they rode into the unknown.
“You have to ask that?” Fire Cat shot her a curious look.
“I mean, out here, on the river. Away from Cahokia.” To the Traders, she asked, “Who am I to you?”
“Lady?” White Mat shot a wary glance over his shoulder. “You’re, um … well, a Cahokian lady. Rich. High born. Makes us a little nervous. When Fire Cat came to us, we didn’t really know who you were. I mean, we’d heard of you, but never figured a lady like you would be offering Trade to travel with us.”
“Figured you were some Earth Clans noble, maybe a lesser family, you know?” Half Root added from behind.
“And then Crazy Frog tells us who you really are.” Shedding Bird almost shivered. “It’s like a sort of dream, huh? Kind of as if you’re not a real woman, just a magical legend. But here you are, and you’re real, and you keep talking to the Underwater Panther.”
“Still not real,” Made Man said from where he stroked his paddle next to Half Root. “And I’m right here behind you, seeing you in the flesh. Real. And unreal.”
Shedding Bird spread his arms. “Since we’re talking, why’d you need to pick us, Lady? We heard you were supposed to be in charge of that big flotilla of canoes and warriors. So, instead, one of the most important women in Cahokia hires us? Granted, it’s for more than we’ve ever been offered in Trade to carry anyone, but what’s the real reason you want us to take you up the Tenasee to the Shallows?”
“Anything special we need to know? Like who this Walking Smoke is who wants to kill you?” White Mat added.
“I want to go without anyone knowing who I am,” Night Shadow Star told them.
“Yes!” Piasa hissed in her ear.
“Well, sitting there like a regal matron, dressed like you are,” Half Root told her, “anyone with eyes in their head is going to know you’re not one of us. Not with a hawk-feather cloak and a garish piece of polished copper with its Spirit Bundle box pinned to your hair bun.”
“What would a normal woman do?”
Fire Cat had an amused look on his face.
“She’d be dressed in a Trader’s tunic,” White Mat said.
“Her hair would be in a braid like Half Root’s,” Made Man chimed in. “And she’d look like she had a job. Not like a passenger.”
Reaching up, Night Shadow Star pulled the long copper pins from her headpiece, removed it, and carefully laid it in her bag. Then she pulled her hair loose. With nimble fingers, she began braiding it.
“Night Shadow Star should be left back at Cahokia,” she declared. “I think it’s time I become someone else for a while.”
“Lady?” Fire Cat asked uneasily. “I mean, what’s Piasa think of that?”
“Unsettling as it might be, I think he’s purring.”
With that she removed her feather cloak, shuffled her packs, and located the spare paddle she’d seen in the canoe’s bottom. Lifting it, she inspected the long blade that ended in a pointed tip for poling. Word was that such a paddle wasn’t an unhandy tool in a fight, either.
“Uh, you ever used a paddle before, Lady?” Half Root asked.
“I spent some time in canoes as a girl,” she told them, then took a grip and joined their rhythm, letting the blade take a deep bite, water curling around the edges.
“You sure you want to do this?” Fire Cat asked.
“If we’re going to make time on the river, I can’t be Night Shadow Star. It will be a distraction at every colony we stop at. They’ll want to feast, celebrate my presence, try and use me and my position for any gain. Think it through. Fire Cat, you and I have to vanish. The best way to do that is to become Traders. And even Crazy Frog says we have some of the best people on the river to teach us how.”
On their seat up in the bow, White Mat and Shedding Bird were staring uneasily at each other. Now Shedding Bird looked back. “It’s hard work, Lady.”
“Fire Cat and I know the chances we’re tak
ing. Maybe, doing it this way, our chances get a little better.”
“It’s your Trade,” Half Root told her. “We work for you on this trip. However you want to run it.”
“I want to make time,” Night Shadow Star told her, her arms warming to the effort of paddling. “Get us to your town on the Tenasee ahead of time, I’ll throw in a piece of copper plate.”
“Done,” White Mat agreed. “But you better know in advance, it’s going to be harder than you imagined. You just let us know what you want. One way or the other, and we’ll see to it.”
Every fiber of her being ached to order Red Reed to turn about, to paddle her back to Cahokia. Back to her safe palace and her familiar haunts. Down deep, she was afraid like she’d rarely been. Bad enough to be rushing headlong into the unknown. Now she couldn’t even do that as herself.
But being Night Shadow Star, traveling without escort, vulnerable, would make her a target for every chief on the rivers. Many hated the Morning Star House. Others would see her as the perfect hostage for ransom. Still others would want to use her as a lever for their own political advantage, not to mention that as a single woman of incredible status, every chief in the country would be pressing for a marriage.
“I need to learn to act like a Trader.” She glanced again at the banks as they rushed by. The dense gray mat of winter-bare trees gave way to sandstone bluffs on the east, their tops thickly forested with skeletal branches that almost vanished into the gray sky.
“Of course.”
But she could tell White Mat didn’t believe it.
Nineteen
Blue Heron wondered when she’d been as tired, cold, or numb. As her porters laid her litter on the ground before her palace veranda, she watched one of the shivering young men lift her blanket away. The covering of snow dropped from the wet cloth in chunks.
Still, it took her three tries to get her legs to hold her as helping hands pulled her up.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Not as spry as I used to be. Pus and rot, I’m worn.”
“We could carry you in,” one of the young men, a Hawk Clan youth, offered.
“I’d crawl first. Allow me some dignity.”
The youth smiled, nodded, and blew into his hands to warm them.
Hardly willing to trust her wobbly legs, she nevertheless hobbled her way into the warm great room, calling, “All of you, come in and warm up. Smooth Pebble will give you something hot to put at least a little fire back in your bellies.”
“Thank you, Lady,” they all chimed, trooping in behind her.
“I’ll get them fed, Lady,” Soft Moon offered, hurrying toward the fire.
Smooth Pebble stepped forward, taking Blue Heron’s hand, noting, “You’re half frozen. Let me help you into your room, then I’ll bring you a hot stew. Your porters aren’t the only ones who need a little fire in the belly.”
“Thank you.”
Blue Heron allowed Smooth Pebble to help her back through the door and to her bed. The woman then left on her errands.
Blue Heron sighed, blinked. She perched on the bed frame and levered her wet and filthy moccasins off. She hadn’t managed to remove her soaked cape before Smooth Pebble was back, a lamp in one hand, a steaming cup of stew in the other.
“Need help with anything?” Smooth Pebble asked.
“No, that’s all. I’m going to eat and collapse.”
“How did things work out?”
“Expedition’s leaving tomorrow by midday. Though there was some sort of ruckus at the camp that may or may not affect that. I got them provisioned. Didn’t want to wait around to get tied up in whatever new disaster was unfolding.”
“Sleep well.”
“You, too. Just don’t wake me until it’s midsummer, all right?”
Smooth Pebble left with a knowing smile on her lips.
Blue Heron sighed, slipped out of her cold and soaked dress, wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders, and was halfway through the gut-warming rabbit and duck stew before she caught the glimpse of something moving in the dark corner of her room.
Heart skipping, she lifted her lamp. “Who’s there?”
“Just me, Keeper.”
“Blood and spit, thief! Have you ever considered just walking in the door and announcing yourself? Smooth Pebble let you in here?”
“I didn’t think she’d want the bother of telling me no.”
“Well, go away. I don’t care what kind of trouble you’re in. Get out. Vanish. Solve it yourself. I’m tired of fixing things. It messes with my time to sleep. And that’s just what I’m going to do as soon as I have you pitched out into the snow and I finish this stew.”
“Figured you’d want to know first thing: Night Shadow Star and the Red Wing left this afternoon. Apparently took a canoe and headed off downriver on their own. Piasa was whispering in her ear. Nothing else would explain why she left me in charge of her palace. Had me deliver a message to the Morning Star. Now, I’ve always considered myself a brave sort, but that put the trembles and shakes in my souls, let me tell you.”
“She what? She’s supposed to be escorted by that disorganized mess of an expedition.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to hang around that long and let Spotted Wrist’s warriors grab her for an impromptu marriage. She wasn’t gone a finger’s worth of time before Blood Talon and his warriors searched her palace. I’m not sure but that they didn’t make off with the occasional bit of Trade, either.”
“Start at the beginning, thief.”
He did. She listened straight through, sipping stew, trying to keep her muzzy brain working.
“So, you, of all people, are in charge of her palace? You? She and the Red Wing are gone to Cofitachequi, and you flung the whole mess in Spotted Wrist’s face? He’ll kill you for that, you know … and now you want my advice?”
“That’s about it.”
She placed the empty cup on one of her storage boxes, pulled her covers back, and slipped into her bed. As she closed her eyes, she said, “I’d say you would be best served if you hurried down to the canoe landing, stole a canoe, and headed downriver after them.”
He said nothing, so she added, “Used Makes Three’s staff? For some that would be a killing offense. Be glad the Morning Star backed you up on that.”
This was all trouble. Night Shadow Star left on her own? What kind of insanity was that? She was wondering why the living god would have bothered, but never finished the thought, her exhausted body drifting into sleep.
Twenty
Blood Talon might have been in a fouler mood at some time in his life, but he really didn’t remember when.
He sat perched in the bow of a sleek and high-prowed war canoe that he’d “requisitioned” from a group of Fish Clan warriors who’d camped on the mucky sands of the canoe landing. The craft was seven paces in length, could seat three abreast, had a shallow draft, high bow, and squared stern. Six poles, three per side, could be fitted to support a fabric tonneau for protection from the sun or storm.
No one had questioned his authority when he marched up to the freshly delivered baskets of corn, squash, and beans—meant to outfit the expedition—and commandeered what he thought he needed.
The same with blankets, water jars, fish net, rope, and cordage. Then, before it could really settle in between his souls, he ordered his warriors to stash their weapons in the trim vessel, and without further consideration had the war canoe pushed out into the current.
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” he muttered as he stared out at the roiling river. “There’s twenty of us. Won’t be but a day or more before we catch up with a bunch of lazy Traders.”
“Not all of the men are happy, my friend,” Nutcracker whispered as he perched in the bow beside Blood Talon. “They thought they were traveling with the expedition. Hot cooked food, nice large camps, just linger about and make sure that no silly downriver chief messed with the high and mighty. Dress up on occasion in order to impress some backwoods colony and its chief. Now they�
�re paddling, headed off on some chase.”
Blood Talon looked back at the warriors. They were lined out in ranks of ten on each gunwale. “Here’s how it is: Yes, we’re on our own. Our orders are to make do with what we have, and it won’t be pleasant. But all we need to do is catch up with Lady Night Shadow Star, grab her, and kill the Red Wing. Should have done that last bit back in Red Wing Town and saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
He got laughter for that.
“Once we have her, we paddle our way back to Cahokia, deliver her to the Keeper, and we’re done. We relax. Take a half moon off to enjoy the city again. So, when you think about it, we’re home in less than a moon and all those poor friends of ours are gone for more than a year, maybe two, before they see Cahokia again.”
“Thought Night Shadow Star was doing something for the living god. Us going to get her? That’s not going to have us in trouble with Morning Star?”
“That’s the Keeper’s problem. We’re just following orders.”
But the notion seemed to stick sideways down in his souls. Grabbing Night Shadow Star to be married before the expedition left? Simple. That wasn’t interfering in anyone’s business but Lady Night Shadow Star’s. And it was done with the Four Winds Clan blessing, since Rising Flame herself had ordered the marriage. Dragging her back? That was something else. An event for which he was going to have to plan ahead.
“What are you thinking?” Nutcracker asked, reading his expression from long association.
“I’m wondering what happened to Spotted Wrist.” Blood Talon kept his voice low. “Ever since we returned from the north, it’s like he’s a whole different person.”
“He’s always been ambitious. Of all the Houses, Serpent Woman has traditionally been the weakest. Suddenly he’s the Hero of the North. They make him the Four Winds Clan Keeper. Used to be he’d be invited to Morning Star’s palace before or after a campaign to either plan or celebrate a victory. Now he almost lives there.”
“As I said, he’s different. I wonder if I even know him anymore.”
Star Path--People of Cahokia Page 11
