“Just Traders,” Fire Cat replied as he retrieved his and Night Shadow Star’s belongings.
Satisfied, the Yuchi turned away.
White Mat and the rest were hoisted up on the shoulders of brawny young men, as were the Yuchi’s packs of Trade from inside Red Reed’s hull. And once the canoe had been manhandled further up on the beach, the entire entourage started up the bluff trail.
From the canoe landing the way led up a steep slope to the palisaded town. Given Fire Cat’s canoe-cramped extremities, the climb brought an unfamiliar ache to his once-formidable legs. Had he really been that long-ago war chief who’d run for days along the leaf-shadowed trails of the north?
On the other hand, his arms and shoulders, back and stomach had never had the strength they now possessed.
He carried his weapons, chunkey gear, and kit in a bag thrown across his right shoulder; a pack with his and Night Shadow Star’s bedding hung over his left. She, in turn, carried a pack full of their remaining Trade, and another with extra clothing. Two youths had been enticed to carry the engraved wooden box.
This was, after all, as far as the Yuchi Traders had contracted to carry them. In distant Cahokia, Big Cane Town had seemed an admirable goal. A place halfway across the world. Surely, once there, they would find someone to take them the rest of the way to Cofitachequi.
“So much for a quiet parting of the ways,” Night Shadow Star told him as she preceded him up the worn trail. “Good thing we said our farewells earlier.”
“I don’t think White Mat could have kept it quiet if he’d tried,” Fire Cat told her. “They may be young, but they’re celebrities here.”
“Being picked up and carried like that?” She indicated the mob ahead of them. “In the southeast it’s a sign of the highest respect. Usually it’s reserved for chiefs, visiting ambassadors, and victorious war leaders. I’ve never heard of such an honor being given to mere Traders.”
“I guess they’re not just ‘mere Traders.’”
They crested the summit, following the others out into a flat terrace covered with corn, bean, and squash fields, goosefoot stands, and rows of freshly sprouted tobacco. Field houses dotted the flat before giving way to thick forest. Huge trees obscured the actual lay of the land, but it appeared to rise, hilly and broken, to the south.
Looking northeast, across the Tenasee Valley, it was to see gnarled, high bluffs capped with thick timber. Along the sheer slopes dropping toward the river, exposed sandstone, limestone, and shale cliffs could be seen where the underlying rock refused to support vegetation.
Down on the river, the lower rapids were plainly visible. Whitewater boiled around outcrops of chert that tore at the current. Driftwood had snagged on some of the rocky islands, and between them the water ran fast, flexing like liquid muscle between the scoured bedrock shores.
Like all Yuchi settlements, Big Cane Town was divided in two between the Chief and Warrior moieties, each having its Council House, a conical burial mound, and sharing the central plaza between them.
The chief’s palace stood on the eastern side, atop a head-high platform mound. It was toward the ramada immediately to the palace’s south that the procession made its way.
There White Mat, Shedding Bird, and the rest were seated in the place of honor at the rear, their packs laid out before them.
People arranged themselves, obviously by rank and status, and began filing past, nodding, touching their foreheads or hearts respectfully, and then shaking the Traders’ hands. And more people were coming, appearing from the hodgepodge cluster of bent-pole houses, from the fields, and the Council Houses. Every now and then the conch horn would blow, just in case anyone had missed it.
Fire Cat and Night Shadow Star took a position in the rear, watching, amused, and not a little worried as they shared uneasy glances.
“Not exactly like we’d hoped, is it?”
“Think we ought to just strike out on the trail around the Shallows? Maybe see if we can hire a canoe on the upstream side?”
“Maybe. One thing’s sure. Everyone in Big Cane Town’s going to remember we arrived on Red Reed. Even if Blood Talon was a two-thumbed idiot, he’d be able to figure out it was us.”
“And he’d know we were on our own as of today.”
From behind them, a voice, in perfect Cahokian, asked, “Who is Blood Talon? And why would you be on your own?”
Fire Cat whirled, found himself eye to eye with a broad and muscular man, perhaps in his early thirties. The fellow’s square face reminded Fire Cat of a block; the nose had been broken so often it was now permanently mashed to the right. A scarred and jutting brow shadowed wide-set, clever eyes. What should have been tattoos on the man’s cheeks looked more like smudges. Totally illegible.
In contrast to the rough appearance of the man, the clothes he wore were those of a noble. A stunning spoonbill-feather cape hung from those wide shoulders, his startlingly white apron—secured by a braided leather belt with beaded pouches—exhibited a beautifully embroidered image of Hunga Ahuito, the Cahokian two-headed eagle and supreme deity. Thick shell necklaces, hanging down over the man’s deep chest, gave him a garish appearance.
The young woman who clung to the man’s muscular right arm appeared to be in her twenties—a ravishing beauty with thick midnight-black hair and large dark eyes to match. Her full lips were pouty in defiance of her delicate jaw. She stood with her hips cocked, one bare brown leg forward, as if to accent the perfectly flat stomach, the shadow of her navel, and full breasts.
She, too, was decked out in wealth, wearing a skirt feathered with turkey breast feathers that glowed copper in the light. A finely tanned buffalo-calf cape hung over her slender shoulders, and a wealth of gleaming white beads wrapped tightly at her throat.
“We’re just Traders,” Fire Cat said, reverting to Trade pidgin. “Looking to work our way east to Cofitachequi.”
“We don’t get many Cahokian Traders,” the man said, fixing on Fire Cat’s tattoos. “And most definitely we don’t get Red Wing Traders”—the man turned his attention to Night Shadow Star—“in the company of a woman from the Four Winds Clan. Something tells me I’d really like to hear the tale of how and why the two of you are traveling together.”
Reflexively, Night Shadow Star had started to reach up, as if to cover her cheeks, and let her hand drop with a sigh. The stranger missed none of it, an amused smile on his lips.
Something about his attitude, the way he was looking at Night Shadow Star, triggered Fire Cat’s sense of impending trouble.
The woman—still clinging to the man’s arm—asked something in Yuchi. Fire Cat had heard enough of White Mat and the others’ conversation on the journey upriver to have picked up a smattering of the tongue. She asked, “Who are these people, husband?”
His response was unintelligible, but he turned his attention back to Night Shadow Star. “From the artistry of those tattoos, I’d say you were Morning Star House.”
Fire Cat narrowed an eye. “Who are you?”
“In these parts I’m called the River Fox. A man without a nation, a Trader, who—”
“Winder.” Night Shadow Star crossed her arms. “I would have thought you’d have gone back to the lower Father Water. Or did the Quiz Quiz make that country a little uncomfortable for you?”
Fire Cat tensed as Winder’s eyes flickered, one instant curious, the next deadly. Cold. Snakelike. “You take chances, Four Winds.”
So, this was the legendary Winder? Fire Cat was trying to figure out how to rip his war club free from the pack without scattering his chunkey gear and armor all over the ground. And if he killed the man, what were the surrounding Yuchi going to do?
“As do you.” Night Shadow Star had a knowing smile on her lips. “But my understanding is that you never go back on your word. Tell me, how did you escape the square in Evening Star Town?”
Winder’s eyes were steady, implacable. “It doesn’t matter who you are back in the city. Here, you’re on my grou
nd.”
Fire Cat figured he was just going to have to swing the whole pack, try to knock Winder off balance to gain the time to pull his war club free. From the looks of the man, he’d spent his life as a knuckle-and-skull scrapper. Sort of had the same look that Seven Skull Shield had, and when it came to a no-holds-barred brawl, the thief was among the best.
But can I take him hand to hand when it comes right down to it?
Fire Cat shifted, only to have Night Shadow Star reach out and place a hand on his arm. “Stand down, Red Wing.”
To Winder she said, “Crazy Frog said that if I were in need, I should look you up. White Mat and Red Reed have carried us this far, and as soon as we arrive, who should step up? I would think it was Power working to both of our benefits.”
Winder relaxed the barest bit, the woman at his side still spouting questions in gobbling Yuchi as she shot uneasy glances at Fire Cat and Night Shadow Star.
“How would you know Crazy Frog?”
Fire Cat said, “It’s a curious and mutually advantageous relationship: We do business together.”
“And what is this sudden need of yours?” Winder asked.
“Our destination is Cofitachequi.” Night Shadow Star unslung her pack. “We have Trade. But I can offer something more than just pieces of copper, shell work, and exotics. I can give you something that no one else in Cahokia can.”
“What’s that?”
“A couple of things. For one, the Morning Star’s personal pardon for your part in the theft of the Surveyors’ Bundle. Serve me with the same dedication as you did the Quiz Quiz, and Cahokia is yours again.” She paused. “With the added benefit that while you are working for us, we won’t stupidly compromise you the way the Quiz Quiz did.”
Winder’s eyes had narrowed, his thumb and forefinger stroking his wide, square jaw. “A high-ranking Four Winds lady accompanied by a scarred-up Red Wing warrior. Traveling as common Traders. Why do I suspect there’s more to the story?”
Fire Cat thought Night Shadow Star lied admirably when she said, “I am White Willow, of Wild Cat’s lineage. This is Two Coups, a warrior of the Red Wing Clan. In this day and age—as you have noted—a Four Winds woman and Red Wing man are not exactly welcome in Cahokia. None of which precludes our usefulness when it comes to the living god and his goals.”
“That’s where Blood Talon comes in,” Fire Cat added. “Him and about twenty Cahokian warriors. They’d really like to see us not make it to Cofitachequi.”
“And whose authority are they acting under?”
“Clan Matron Rising Flame’s.” Fire Cat gave the man a wicked grin. “She declared Lady White Willow an exile. Something about White Willow’s particularly low standards when it came to her association with a certain heretic man. You want to jab a stick in the eye of the high and mighty at the same time you get your banishment lifted? Help us get to Cofitachequi. It’d be giving the Four Winds Clan a bit of payback.”
“Four Winds Clan makes a pretty formidable enemy.”
“Morning Star trumps even Matron Rising Flame,” Night Shadow Star replied.
“And what gives you the right to speak for the living god? If that’s what he really is?”
Fire Cat gave the man a big smile. “I could get to like the way you think.” But I don’t trust you any more than I would a water moccasin.
Night Shadow Star shot him a sidelong glance of irritation. “Let’s just say that Morning Star and I are in this together. His goals—and mine—transcend the petty preoccupations of the Four Winds Clan. As to proof that I’m his agent in this, you’ll just have to take my word.” She smiled. “And some pretty fantastic Trade.”
Winder’s hard gaze remained on Night Shadow Star.
Fire Cat could almost see the man’s souls working to figure out what her presence in Big Cane Town meant, and how he could benefit from it.
Worse, something about the way Winder’s continued appraisal of Night Shadow Star’s body spoke of more than just a financial interest. A fact that the raven-haired beauty also picked up on. She had tightened her hold on the man’s bicep, as if to physically claim him.
Fire Cat felt his hackles rising, the way they did when a possessive male perceived too much interest from another dominant.
“Cofitachequi,” Winder mused, so lost in thought he didn’t even react as the Yuchi in the ramada erupted in delight at something White Mat told them.
Night Shadow Star glanced up at the midday sky. “We have half a day. By taking the trail, can we arrive above the Mussel Shallows before dark? We really need to get there and hire, or Trade, for a good canoe.”
“I haven’t said I’m taking you anywhere. In fact, I think I’ll—”
“I have one last item to Trade.” She extended her hand, something tightly clasped in her fist. When Winder reached out, she dropped the little carving of the fox that Crazy Fox had handed her that day on the canoe landing.
Winder stared at it, disbelief in his eyes. Then he again turned his attention to Night Shadow Star’s tattoo. He glanced again at Fire Cat’s. “I think I can get us a canoe in the pond above the shallows.”
“The pond?”
“That’s what the locals call the still water between the Mussel Shallows and the upper cataract. That’s known as the Suck and Rage. You’ll learn why if you ever make it that far. A fast and light canoe? I know a family with such a boat. One that can be carried over the chert-hard rock if local porters are hired to carry the packs. The locals are easy, they can be bought off with a hank of beads, maybe a pouch of black drink tea. That’s the way to make time from here to above the Suck and Rage.”
“Suck and Rage?” Fire Cat mused. “Sounds ominous.”
“A really violent patch of water where the Tenasee cuts through the mountains a hard week’s journey east of here. Pass that, and paddling a canoe up past Hiawasee island, to the Wide Fast, a portage through the mountains to the Beautiful River, then crossing the divide to Joara Town can be made in a moon’s cycle.”
“You’ve done this?” Night Shadow Star asked.
“Five—no, that would be six times.”
Fire Cat felt the first faint slivers of hope. Winder’s slightly dismissive shrug added to the feeling that the man knew of what he spoke.
The Trader glanced down, studying the little carved fox, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Shifted his thoughtful gaze to her tattoos. What was his preoccupation? Everyone had tattoos.
At that instant something seemed to change in Winder’s appraisal, as if he’d stumbled upon a revelation. The barest flicker of a smile died on the man’s lips, his eyes suddenly veiled as he said, “I’ll take you to Cofitachequi. I want your Trade, and your word on that pardon.”
“Half of my Trade, and the pardon.”
He began to shake his head, reconsidered, and said, “Done.”
“I give you my word.” Night Shadow Star touched her chin. “Now, we have a half day’s light. Shall we be at it?”
“As soon as I wrap up some personal business here,” Winder told them. He winked at the young woman now grasping his arm in a stranglehold as she shot a jealousy-filled glare at Night Shadow Star.
Fire Cat experienced a crawly feeling down in his stomach. As Winder stepped away, he said, “Why do I sense that this isn’t going to work out well?”
Forty-six
In the weeks since the lunar maximum Seven Skull Shield had spent much of his time in Evening Star Town. Not only had he found a use for himself while helping Flat Stone Pipe with a recalcitrant relative, but for whatever reason—probably because he simply didn’t know better—Spotted Wrist had only two of his warriors prowling around Evening Star Town in the quest to find Seven Skull Shield, the Koroa copper, or any other salient information that the new Keeper might find useful in his pursuits as Four Winds Clan Keeper.
So ham-handed had the warriors turned out to be that Seven Skull Shield had actually befriended them, offering items of food, telling them stories, and
generally providing helpful tips in their quest for intelligence on the operations of Evening Star Town, its politics, and, of course, its ever potentially dissident matron.
Flat Stone Pipe, to the dwarf’s absolute delight, got the greatest pleasure out of feeding the two warriors conflicting, imaginary, and particularly damaging information about the other Houses and their supposed machinations against Morning Star, the clan matron, and the new Keeper.
These bits of intelligence were dutifully transmitted back to Spotted Wrist by a runner who checked in with the spying warriors every two days.
On the down side, Seven Skull Shield ached to see Willow Blossom.
“Got it hard, huh?” Flat Stone Pipe had asked the day before. “You keep looking off to the east. What is it about this one?”
“She’s just special. Maybe it’s that she’s so innocent, you know? When she smiles up at me, it makes my heart leap. There’s something about her laugh. It just comes out. All bubbly and joyous. And you should see the way her eyes light up, sort of sparkle just for me.”
“You sure?”
Seven Skull Shield had given the dwarf his most disapproving look. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I know more about women than any ten men alive. Sometimes a man and woman just fit together.” He demonstrated by interlacing his fingers so tightly they’d hold water. “That’s Willow Blossom and me.”
“And how is this perfect woman of yours taking these long absences? Must be hard on her, pining away for you while you’re hiding from half of Cahokia.”
“She’s happily safe in Night Shadow Star’s palace. She understands, little man. This isn’t forever. It’s just going to take some time to bring all the pieces together. Spotted Wrist isn’t going to last. All you need to do is think of those two idiot warriors he’s got ‘keeping an eye on things’ here in Evening Star Town.”
“Must be one really remarkable woman.” Flat Stone Pipe’s expression was anything but reassuring.
That had been the final straw. Seven Skull Shield had mussed himself up, found an old basket that he filled with scraps of cloth, and bartered his way across the river. Farts trotting at his heels, he’d hurried his way up the Avenue of the Sun, looking for all the world like another of the dirt farmers engaged in some venture of his own.
Star Path--People of Cahokia Page 28
