Crouched down, Seven Skull Shield hid just out of sight of the east-facing doorway. Behind him rose the sprawl of River Mounds City—a closely packed collection of warehouses, palaces, temples, workshops, and residences. No more than a stone’s throw to the Council House’s north lay the Avenue of the Sun, Cahokia’s mighty east-west thoroughfare.
And there the slave girl stopped, staring back uneasily. She spread her arms in the universal “now what?” sign.
Seven Skull Shield cupped his hands around his mouth and pantomimed shouting.
A flash of understanding supplanted the confusion in her face, and she cupped her own hands and began shrieking in some foreign language.
The Singing inside the Council House went silent; and Seven Skull Shield ducked back as two men emerged, took one look at the slave girl, and started forward. She continued to shriek away in her incomprehensible tongue, even as Seven Skull Shield gave an energetic wave of the arm, hoping to get her moving.
She seemed to understand, spun on a heel, and pelted away down the dawn-grayed avenue.
The two men shouted—an action which drew still more of their companions from inside. In a long line the Quiz Quiz warriors charged out after the fleeing woman. Weirdly tattooed southern barbarians, they wore their long hair in an odd topknot; restricted atop the scalp, it rose in a pom that fell in all directions. Fabric breechcloths were wrapped at their loins, and they’d greased their sun-blackened bodies so that they glistened in the morning light.
No sooner had the last charged off in the woman’s wake than Seven Skull Shield allowed himself a satisfied grin. “By Morning Star’s cock and balls, I’m good!”
He hurried to the doorway, and ducked inside. A fire crackled and snapped in the central hearth; its light illuminated the room. In the rear—atop an inverted basket that served as an altar—rested an opened box: a beautiful thing crafted from red cedar. Its sides had been artfully carved in relief to depict Horned Serpent with his widespread wings, while circling around the beast were intertwined Tie Snakes. Pearls, shell, and copper had been inlaid into the wood.
A large gray blanket had been draped over some sort of big, rounded object that rested on the floor between the fire pit and the altar. Seven Skull Shield was on the verge of kicking it when he saw the missing surveyors’ Bundle directly behind the open box and basket.
The Bundle looked just the way the Keeper had described it: a long, cylindrical bag of finely woven cloth dyed in red, yellow, black, and blue. Seven Skull Shield plucked it up, feeling its contents. Supposedly the Bundle contained surveying instruments: levels, poles, lengths of knotted cord, and curving, flat sections of wood. Which seemed to be what he was feeling. About four hands in diameter, and half as tall as he was, the Bundle was lighter than Seven Skull Shield had anticipated. He stuffed it under his left arm and turned.
As he did, the mysterious blanket-covered form on the floor rose, the blanket falling back to expose a big man who’d been on his knees, forehead pressed to the dirt in prayer. He had painted his face yellow with an inverted black V over his mouth. Sky Star. The Quiz Quiz war chief. No doubt about it. The pom of hair rising over his head flipped back as he jerked his chin forward. Anger quickly replaced surprise as he fixed on the heavy cloth bag under Seven Skull Shield’s arm.
Whatever Sky Star said was in Quiz Quiz—a language mostly incomprehensible to Seven Skull Shield’s ears. The intonation, however, was universal in its challenge. In a liquid move, the muscular man reached into the open box, lifting out an ornate brown-flint dagger. The piece was intricately flaked and as long as the war chief’s forearm—the sort of knife used in ritual executions and sacrificial bloodletting.
Seven Skull Shield swallowed hard. Got a glance into the box, seeing a stuffed hawk, eagle talons, the top half of a human skull, carved human arm bones, a collection of hairy scalps.
He instinctively recognized both the box and contents: War Medicine!
So that’s what they’d been doing. A ceremony to offer thanks to the sacred Quiz Quiz War Medicine Bundle. A demonstration of their appreciation for its Spiritual help as they snuck away with one of Cahokia’s most prized possessions.
And it had worked. Right up to the point that Seven Skull Shield had wheedled his way into War Chief Sky Star’s bed to diddle his prized slave girl.
The Quiz Quiz—smile predatory—was now Singing. A war song no doubt that called upon his personal Spirit Power and medicine. Sky Star had dropped into a crouch, eyes bright with intent, the knife held low as he sidestepped around the War Medicine box. Supple muscle slid beneath the warrior’s greased skin. He moved like a leashed panther, coiled, deadly.
“Oh, rot and bother,” Seven Skull Shield muttered, clutching the surveyors’ Bundle before him. The old joy was rising deep in his chest. The howl was building down in his throat.
But if he succumbed, allowed himself the primal joy of the fight…?
He’s going to kill you!
How, then, could he get out of …
It came to him in a blink. He distracted the Quiz Quiz with a grin and a ribald wink—and, as if it were a box of vipers, gave the War Medicine box a swift kick. As the box crashed into the Quiz Quiz, its contents scattered onto the packed clay floor.
For an instant Sky Star froze, eyes wide, expression one of horror and disbelief.
Seven Skull Shield had already launched himself, knocked the man flat. Then he was running, clearing the fire with a flying leap. No sooner was he out the door than he heard a wailing shriek of rage from behind.
“Dog! Let’s run!” he called over his shoulder, catching a glance of his big-boned and ugly beast as it sprang off the low mound, ears flapping, gaping jaws wide.
Feet hammering the clay, Seven Skull Shield shot across the Avenue—still mostly vacant this early in the morning—and charged between the warehouses across the way.
The shrieks of pursuit, however, kept getting louder.
What in the name of Piasa’s swinging balls was wrong with the guy? If Sky Star were any kind of superstitious foreign barbarian, he should have stopped to pick up the sacred War Medicine contents—should have been petrified at the extent of the pollution and profane disrespect shown his most holy of holies.
Instead, the fool was following hard on Seven Skull Shield’s heels. Which was a problem. As Seven Skull Shield liked to say, he was built for strength, not for speed.
If he had one advantage? He knew River City Mounds like no other man alive. Rounding the corner of a shell warehouse, he grabbed a latrine screen and pulled it down behind him. Next he toppled a drying rack, then snagged a pestle from its mortar and chucked it, one-handed, over his shoulder and into the path of the raging Quiz Quiz.
Farts seemed to be having the time of his life, bounding and leaping at Seven Skull Shield’s side. Figured that the silly dog hadn’t a clue as to the serious nature of their predicament.
Nor did the Surveyors’ Bundle, with its awkward bulk, do him any favors. The thing had him half off balance.
He rounded a stone-grinder’s workshop, expecting a clear avenue between the buildings, and barely managed to keep from flying full-tilt into a post wall. As it was, he got a hand out to take most of the impact.
In disbelief, he turned, finding his way blocked by the buildings on either side. Wall-trench buildings were made this way. The four walls were prefabricated, lashed together, and dropped whole into trenches excavated into the ground. Then they could be tied together upright, plastered, and the roof put on. Build a house in a day. Quick, easy construction.
But some pus-sucking idiot had left one in the way.
Even as Seven Skull Shield turned, the Quiz Quiz was upon him. Instinctively he raised the Surveyors’ Bundle just as Sky Star thrust with his long blade. Slanting morning sunlight glittered in its glassy ripples as the blade pierced the heavy cloth bag.
Seven Skull Shield bulled his way forward, bellowing, “You maggot mouth!” Then, filling his lungs, he howled, trying to ba
ck-heel the foreign warrior. “Piece of walking shit! Cut me? Slice me up?”
The Quiz Quiz, like a dancer, skipped back, pulling his blade free. A clever smile played at the man’s painted lips, eyes alight with the thrill of battle. Quick as a copperhead, he skipped, darted, and dodged in attack.
Again Seven Skull Shield caught the blade with the Bundle, this time rolling it in his hands. Chert was razor sharp, but brittle. The long blade snapped in half before the Quiz Quiz could pull it back.
“Now it’s different.” Seven Skull Shield tossed the Bundle to the side, spreading his arms. “Come on, you worthless, penis-breathing, shit-nosed bag of puke!”
He and the Quiz Quiz slammed together, but to Seven Skull Shield’s dismay, his grip slipped on the man’s greased skin. Like a fish through fumbling fingers, the Quiz Quiz slithered out of Seven Skull Shield’s grasp, flipped, and threw Seven Skull Shield flat on his back.
Howling like a mad man, Seven Skull Shield desperately tried to bat the Quiz Quiz’s hands away as they locked on his throat. As inexorably as drying rawhide, the warrior’s grip tightened, shutting off Seven Skull Shield’s air.
“Foul pus-licking…” the words choked into nothingness. Lungs heaving, Seven Skull Shield clawed for the Quiz Quiz’s face, but the man kept ducking away.
A roaring—like the pounding rapids of a great river—filled Seven Skull Shield’s hearing. A circle of darkness seemed to close in around his vision. His heart beat like a stone hammer in his chest, and panic replaced his rage.
The Quiz Quiz hissed in delight, a madness filling his excited black eyes. His grimace was now a grin that distorted the yellow-and-black face paint into a hideous mask.
This … is … the … end.
The words seemed to float between Seven Skull Shield’s souls. Their hazy softness, like fluffy down feathers …
A flicker of brindle-splotched brown flashed across his narrowing gaze. He felt the impact. As if from a distance, he heard the Quiz Quiz scream.
And then the crushing grip was gone; great cool drafts of air were filling his lungs. His vision cleared, and he struggled up to see Farts, his wide jaws clamped around the Quiz Quiz’s muscular shoulder. Farts never did anything with finesse, let alone growling. He sounded more like a wounded bobcat than a dog as he savaged the screaming warrior’s shoulder.
For his part, the Quiz Quiz now found himself unable to get a good hold on the dog. Each time he got a grasp, the beast’s loose skin seemed to melt right out of his fingers. And for his part, Farts was wiggling and thrashing, his tail like a whip in the air.
Never one to lose an opportunity, Seven Skull Shield shook his head to clear it, and leaped onto the sprawled Quiz Quiz.
“Now let’s see how you like it, you vomit-sucking puddle of piss!”
Even as he got his fingers around the warrior’s neck, he heard as well as felt the man’s bones snapping under Farts’ mighty jaws.
This time the scream was choked in the Quiz Quiz’s throat. Bouncing his full weight up and down, Seven Skull Shield tightened his grip, watching the foreign warrior’s eyes flicker back and forth, turn dull, and roll back in his head. Then the body went limp.
“Farts, that’s enough,” he gasped as he rolled back onto his butt. The dog reluctantly turned loose of the mangled shoulder, a question in his blue and brown eyes.
“I do believe he’d a killed me,” Seven Skull Shield rasped as he rubbed his sore throat.
A voice intruded as it cried, “What in Morning Star’s name is going on here?” A pause. “Is that you, Seven Skull Shield?”
He looked up, surprised by the crowd that had collected in the narrow passage between the buildings. He coughed. Fought the urge to throw up. The man standing with hands on hips in the front of the crowd was Bone Hook, a Trader in fish from down at the canoe landing.
Seven Skull Shield staggered to his feet. Kicked the Quiz Quiz, who was now gasping for breath. As he gulped for air, he rasped, “Someone tie this human bag of shit up good and tight. There’s a couple of nice pieces of copper for anyone who will help carry him to the Keeper’s palace.”
“Figured that was you fighting back here. You woke up half the neighborhood.” Bone Hook, thin-boned and skinny as he was, looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. His oily black hair was standing on end. “Nobody howls like you do when you fight. But I got to ask: ‘Penis breathing, shit-nosed puke?’ I mean, can’t you do any better than that?”
Seven Skull Shield slapped the man on the shoulder as one of the cord makers bound the Quiz Quiz up tight. The war chief managed a limp shriek as his bloody and ruined shoulder was pulled back.
“Actually, I thought it was pretty good.” Seven Skull Shield retrieved the Surveyors’ Bundle from where it had been tossed. “By the way, you still looking for a wife? I know where there’s a very supple young Quiz Quiz girl hiding under an altar.”
Three
The dreams had been terrifying. Afterimages—like shadows come to life—flickered through Night Shadow Star’s memory when she snapped awake. Her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a hard day’s distance from the Moon Mounds to her palace in the shadow of Morning Star’s great mound.
And then she froze.
She wasn’t alone in her bed. A warm body was pressed against hers; a man’s soft breathing actually flicked strands of her long black hair where it lay across her chest.
Images of Thirteen Sacred Jaguar’s body against hers triggered a terror that locked her muscles tight.
The man moved—went as tense as she—and hurriedly scrambled away. In the morning light, she recognized Fire Cat as he sat up from her bedding, his face pale. A look of panic glazed his eyes as he raised his hands defensively, fingers spread wide. “I’m sorry, Lady. I just … I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.”
She drew a deep breath, remembering.
Yes, in the middle of the night. He’d awakened her from a particularly hideous nightmare where faceless women were chasing her through a distant conifer forest. As she had fled, the trees around her literally exploded in fire.
Fire Cat had appeared in her doorway, told her he would stand watch while she slept.
“It’s all right,” she told him, relief washing through her like a cool wave. “You did fine.” A mere flicker of a smile crossed her lips. “Did I cry out again? Keep everyone awake?”
“No, Lady.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “If you had, I wouldn’t have been sleeping like a log. I’d have been awake. As I should have been. My apologies. It won’t happen again.”
She sat up, the blanket falling away, and pushed the thick wealth of her hair back over her shoulder. Gray morning light illuminated the carvings on her storage boxes and the patterns woven into the baskets where she kept her dresses. Her well pot stood atop its altar beyond the foot of the bed; and in a red-cedar cabinet she’d hung on her far wall rested the Tortoise Bundle.
Oh, I heard you. That was you tormenting my sleep.
Not that she didn’t brew up enough nightmares of her own to fill her nights with panic, but the Tortoise Bundle kept sending fingers of Power to stroke her souls in the deep night.
“What do you want from me?” she couldn’t help but cry.
“Lady?” Fire Cat asked, his expression wary.
She glanced at him, taking in the Red Wing Clan tattoos on his smooth face and strong cheeks. The muscles knotted around his full jaw. A red hunting shirt barely hid the corded strength in his arms and shoulders. By Piasa’s misty breath, he was a handsome man. Tall and straight. His intelligent eyes were fixed levelly on hers.
“I was talking to the Tortoise Bundle.”
As she said it, the tension faded from his taut body. A sign of the crystalline edge upon which they were both poised.
He glanced across the room to where the Bundle rested in its niche. “The nightmares are getting worse, Lady.”
She reached up to rub her face, as if massaging it would restore some sense of the vitality that ha
d gone missing from her life. “I am cursed, Fire Cat.”
“You are chosen,” he replied, as if that were all there was to it.
Her laughter came out as a bitter bark. “Look at me. Not even twenty. And what do I have to look back on?”
He glanced away, unwilling to answer, instead saying, “I’ll see to your breakfast. Green Leaf should have the fire started and a stew warm.”
Fire Cat started for the door, and she could see his slight limp, how he was still healing from the battle he’d fought against the hand-picked warriors Thirteen Sacred Jaguar had brought to Cahokia.
“Fire Cat?” she asked.
He turned, a deep and burning sorrow behind his eyes. “Yes, Lady?”
“If I were any other woman…”
A flicker of a smile tugged at his lips. “I understand, Lady. I really do.”
Then he was gone.
Piasa had given her a choice. She could save her city, or Fire Cat.
And if I’d chosen him…?
She drove it from her mind, climbing to her feet and opening one of her storage boxes in search of a skirt and cape.
As she dressed, she glanced at the Tortoise Bundle, looking so plain and dull in its scuffed, charred, and painted leather container. “I can’t go on like this.”
“No, you can’t,” Piasa whispered.
In the corner of her eye she caught a flash of movement—a glimpse of yellow eyes, sleek gray hide, and rainbow wings. But when she stared full at the shadowed corner, he was gone.
Into the Cauldron
I can tell that War Leader Strong Mussel suffers from a distinct feeling of unease as our small flotilla of canoes reaches its destination at Cahokia’s bustling canoe landing. I can see it in the set of his jaw, the slight tightening around the corners of his eyes.
Moon Hunt Page 3