As if recovering from paralysis, Strong Mussel and the warriors drop to their knees, lowering their heads to the matting.
Somehow I successfully fight the urge. Though I am shaking, my stomach is knotting itself into a hard ache, and my mouth is dryer than sun-baked clay, I lock my knees. I swallow hard, reminding myself that I am a high minko’s daughter. Of the Chief Clan, of the Sky Hand people.
“Greetings, Morning Star,” I manage to answer, though my voice is strained, and, I fear, squeaky.
“I understand that High Minko White Water Moccasin has sent you with an offer of marriage and that you wish to open an embassy from the Sky Hand so as to improve relations with Cahokia?”
I see rising interest behind his eyes, as he looks me up and down. His gaze rests too long on my hips, as if peering beneath my skirt, then rises to my breasts. Finally his eyes meet mine, and the effect is physical, as if my nerves are shocked.
Words won’t come. To my immense embarrassment, I can only stand there, almost panting for air, my mouth agape.
“That is correct,” Strong Mussel replies, having overcome enough of his awe to find voice.
“Then be welcome,” Morning Star commands. He utters what sounds like an order, then follows it with, “I have ordered black drink and the sacred pipe. Let us drink and smoke, and I shall hear the request of High Minko White Water Moccasin.”
He rises, stepping down from the raised panther-hide chair.
Fear sparks electric through my body, paralyzing me as he walks up. Cocks his head. A black eternity lies behind his eyes as he stares into mine.
I flinch as he reaches down. At his touch, I jump, as if stung. Then he raises my hand, and I almost shudder as his gaze fixes on the tattoo.
“Your father’s goals are easily understood, Whispering Dawn. But what dreams and desires, I wonder, are driving you?”
I still cannot answer, even as a group of young men rush forward with steaming black drink and a great carved pipe.
“It’s all right,” Morning Star adds in a reassuring tone. “I wouldn’t think of disappointing such a willing young woman. I have ordered a feast. And lest you fret that I might not be as anxious as you, we shall be married within the next hand of time.”
He smiles. “Just as soon as the formalities are seen to.”
It is all I can do to keep from breaking loose and running.
Seventeen
“So, there goes the Sky Hand party?” the Keeper noted in surprise.
Night Shadow Star turned from where she stood before the Council House talking with Blue Heron and Wind. One of the Morning Star’s messengers preceded a moderately dressed young woman with a black-painted face. She walked at the head of a small party of foreign warriors. All in all, she looked absolutely average, until she cast eyes on Night Shadow Star.
“Ah, the Powers of darkness stir,” Piasa whispered behind her right ear.
Even as Night Shadow Star’s master spoke, the girl seemed to tear her gaze away, averting her eyes as though to avoid Night Shadow Star’s. In a matter of heartbeats the party had crossed the plaza and were climbing the long stairs toward the Morning Star’s high palace.
“Did you send for them?” Keeper Blue Heron pensively asked her sister.
Tonka’tzi Wind shook her head. “Pus and rot, no. I’ve had my hands full preparing for this accursed reception. Our panting camp bitch of a cousin sent me instructions. Can you believe it? Details of what food to have prepared, how much black drink, how she wanted to be seated, which attendants should be placed where. You’d think she was a bloody clan matron.”
“She is,” Blue Heron muttered in reminder.
“She is darkness,” Night Shadow Star couldn’t help but say as she watched the young woman climb in advance of her party.
“Snot and spit, she’s just a cousin,” Wind replied, attention on her fingers as she rubbed them to remove a soot stain.
“No. The Sky Hand. The Chikosi girl.”
“What do you mean?” It was Blue Heron who fixed curious eyes on her.
“I’m not sure. Something Piasa just whispered to me.”
“Told you,” Blue Heron murmured softly to her sister, then turned her gaze to where the Chikosi party was nearing the top of the high stairs. “So, Wind, if you didn’t send for her, it would appear that the Morning Star has taken matters into his own hands.”
“What is this about?” Night Shadow Star asked, a curious unease inside as Piasa flickered at the corner of her vision.
“Not sure,” Blue Heron growled. “She and her warriors just showed up. Said she wanted to establish a Chikosi embassy, and her father had sent her marry the Morning Star as a way to cement the alliance. I sent one of my spies to figure out what they were really after. The thief overheard that she’s already married. To an Albaamaha. Thought Chikosi nobility hated the Albaamaha. And for some reason my spy refused to tell us that little fact.”
“Darkness flows,” Piasa whispered ominously.
“What does that mean?” Night Shadow Star asked absently as the Chikosi party vanished into the Morning Star’s walled compound.
“Got me,” Blue Heron said obliviously. “Probably some Chikosi internal squabble.”
“Morning Star dances among the white blossoms of Dreams. Nectar rises with his blood. Who outsmarts whom?”
“Lord?” she asked with a frown. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither does the Morning Star.”
“What?”
Like a snap of the fingers, the Spirit Beast vanished.
Night Shadow Star sighed. “Pus and blood, I hate it when he does that.”
Both Wind and Blue Heron were watching her uneasily. And Fire Cat—who had been standing discreetly to one side—stepped forward, eyes wary, one hand resting on the war club hanging at his side.
“You seeing things again?” Blue Heron asked suspiciously. “Anything you’d like to warn us about?”
“That girl is going to be trouble.”
“Like what?” Wind wanted to know—but at the moment, a runner burst through the Council Gate.
He trotted over, bearing one of the clan matron’s staffs of office, and dropped to one knee to declare, “Clan Matron Rising Flame approaches.”
“What now?” Blue Heron growled under her breath, then raised her voice as she said, “We thank the matron for apprising us of her approach. You may go.”
The young man touched his forehead, whirled, and sprinted back for the door.
“Well,” Wind said through an exhale, “we’d better take our places and get this over with.” She turned, heading into the Council House to take her seat on the tonka’tzi’s dais.
A shift in the breeze brought the scent of boiling black drink from inside the Council House, along with the delicious odors of bison stew, hominy, and nut bread.
“Which means it’s up to us to greet our overstuffed cousin. Let’s go,” Blue Heron said to Night Shadow Star as she led the way to the Council Gate.
Night Shadow Star followed to take a position beside her at the head of the stairs. Below them, the crowd thronged the Avenue of the Sun, leaving the plaza with its chunkey courts curiously empty, though a hard-fought contest was being waged on the stickball field just beyond the World Tree pole.
Rising Flame’s contingent was readily apparent as it rounded the eastern flank of the great mound and headed for the base of the stairs. Fully four tens of warriors escorted the single litter, the advance ranks cutting through the crowd like a canoe through duckweed.
At the foot of the stairs, the procession stopped, and a decked-out squadron first gave Rising Flame a hand up once her litter was placed on the avenue.
“Who is that?” Night Shadow Star asked, unable to identify the squadron first across the distance.
“I think that is Tapping Wood, the one she just divorced. Fish Clan man, renowned war leader and squadron first. Dealt with that fractious Shawnee chief over east on the Mother Water a couple of years back.”<
br />
The war leader touched his forehead in salute, and Rising Flame started up the steps as the crowd milled about and watched. It wasn’t often that a new Four Winds Clan matron was chosen. Whistles, cheers, and jeers could be heard.
For her part, Rising Flame had dressed for the occasion, her thick black hair piled atop her head and pinned in place with eagle feathers. A remarkable lace cloak crocheted of delicately spun cottonwood down hung over her shoulders.
The textile skirt clinging to her hips was woven of the finest dogbane thread and dyed a deep, reddish purple. The front had been embroidered with the Four Winds spirals above, and chevrons below.
She had again chosen white facial paint with stylized forked-eye designs in black, invoking the Morning Star’s favorite motif.
As Rising Flame approached at the head of her warriors, Night Shadow Star could make out the grim smile of satisfaction on her cousin’s lips, see the sparkling triumph in her eyes. The pulse was pounding in the woman’s neck, hinting at the joy that had to be bursting in her chest. From relative obscurity in the Morning Star House, Rising Flame was now thrust foremost into its ranks of authority and influence.
“Matron,” Blue Heron greeted, and touched her forehead as Rising Flame stepped onto the platform.
“Keeper,” Rising Flame answered with a slight nod of recognition.
Then she shot an expectant glance at Night Shadow Star, who replied, “Hello, Cousin.”
“I am your matron.”
“Of a sort. The Four Winds Clan exerts no influence over Piasa.”
Rising Flame lowered her voice. “Oh, come now. This isn’t petty jealousy, is it? If you wanted the position, you should have fought for it.”
“I serve a different master,” Night Shadow Star replied, meeting Rising Flame’s calculating eyes. “My purpose in meeting you here, at this spot, is to ensure that you understand who and what I am from the outset.”
“Is that a challenge, Cousin?” The corners of Rising Flame’s lips had tightened.
“Consider it a warning,” Night Shadow Star told her evenly, aware that Fire Cat had stepped up behind her and that Blue Heron was shooting her uneasy glances.
So, too, was Squadron First Tapping Wood. The warrior—in his mid thirties—stood on the stairs, dressed in finery, at the head of his small squad. The man looked particularly uneasy, as if thrust into a sloshing sea of unknowns. He kept shooting Fire Cat uneasy looks, as if sizing up a rival.
“Good!” Blue Heron cried with a clap of the hands. “Now that that’s settled, if you would follow me, Matron, the tonka’tzi awaits.”
Night Shadow Star gave her cousin a thin smile and spun on her heel, leading the way. Fire Cat stuck to her, marching at attention, one hand on his war club where it hung on his belt.
“Old enemy?” Fire Cat asked in a voice just loud enough for her to hear.
“The girl I once was treated her rather shabbily. I haven’t always been the soft, inoffensive, and forgiving woman I am today.”
From the corner of her eye she could see the crooked smile on his lips. Then he asked, “And the Fish Clan warrior?”
“Used to be her husband. She divorced him a couple of moons back. It must have been more amicable than was reported if he’s backing her today.”
“He looks grim and out of sorts.”
“His reputation is as a military commander. The kind who likes to bash enemy heads in a hard fight. Political intrigue isn’t his preferred method of relaxation.”
“I’m with him there.”
His muttered response amused her. Fire Cat’s single-minded devotion to her had served her better politically than any amount of head-bashing. Right down to and including his fight with the Itza, which essentially liberated her from a fate worse than death.
As they approached the Council House door, the gathered nobles bowed, touching their foreheads.
Night Shadow Star was on the verge of stepping inside when Rising Flame called, “Wait. I would address the tonka’tzi and Keeper in private.”
Now, that was a curiosity. Night Shadow Star turned, watching as Rising Flame separated herself from her retinue of warriors and marched up to the door.
“War Leader,” the matron barked. “See that we are not interrupted.”
“Yes, Matron!” Tapping Wood almost slapped himself in the forehead as he saluted.
“Keeper, if you would lead the way,” Rising Flame said as she gestured. Blue Heron nodded and stepped inside, followed by Rising Flame.
Night Shadow Star took a step for the door, only to have Tapping Wood block her way.
“Lady, you will have to wait outside,” Tapping Wood told her, his eyes communicating a deep unease.
Night Shadow Star smiled and held his gaze as she felt Piasa swell within her. She heard the Spirit Creature’s voice as it spoke through her. “Do you wish to cross me, warrior?”
“N—No, Lady.” He swallowed hard, pupils dilating and sweat breaking out on his upper lip.
“Then stand aside.”
Almost trembling, Tapping Wood gulped and shuffled to one side, allowing her and Fire Cat to pass.
“I’d swear that is Piasa talking when you do that,” Fire Cat mumbled.
“What makes you think it isn’t, Red Wing?”
As they entered the room, Rising Flame was ordering, “Everyone out! All of you! Recorders, messengers, attendants—outside. I would speak to Tonka’tzi Wind in private.
Fire Cat shot Night Shadow Star a measuring glance as she made way for the exodus and strode up beside Rising Flame.
The matron gave her a disdainful glare, and said, “You are not needed here. Get out.”
“Needed?” Night Shadow Star smiled, seeing the Piasa’s shadow flicker in a darkened corner of the room. “No. Not yet.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” the Keeper asked from where she had taken a position on Rising Flame’s right. Tonka’tzi Wind sat regally on her dais, watching with an elevated eyebrow.
“Fingers of darkness and ancient Power are filtering through Cahokia. The Morning Star is gambling that we will all survive the test. But do continue.” Night Shadow Star gestured for them to proceed.
“Gods, Niece, what do you know?” Wind demanded.
Night Shadow Star just smiled in reply.
“Are you receiving a new matron, or not?” Rising Flame’s eyes flashed, her fist knotting. To Night Shadow Star, she darkly added, “And do not think for a moment that I have forgotten the things you did to me, how you and your brothers treated me.”
“We will have time for that another day,” Night Shadow Star whispered, images of a young Rising Flame in tears just behind her veil of memory.
Wind scowled at Night Shadow Star, then turned her eyes on Rising Flame. “Where is your retinue?”
“Outside.” She stepped forward. “I will ask them in after we’ve clarified a few things. Then we can attend to the proper rituals and ceremony.”
“Clarify what things?” Wind shifted on her seat to show her irritation.
Rising Flame walked up to the tonka’tzi’s dais. “You wanted my sister, Sacred Spoon. There is no secret about that. Everyone wants Sacred Spoon. She’s always the favorite. The reasonable one. The one you can subtly influence with a well-thought-out argument. She’s the one who compromises.” Rising Flame shook her head. “The one you can control.”
“Does this have a point?” the Keeper asked, a bitter twist to her lips.
“The point is that the Morning Star chose me.” Rising Flame jabbed a hard finger into Blue Heron’s sternum. “I am no soft lump of copper like my sister. I won’t let you hammer me into whatever shape you desire for the moment. With my appointment, authority is once again returned to Slick Rock’s lineage. And to a woman who knows her own mind. Just as the Morning Star wished.”
“The way I heard it,” Blue Heron said, “it wasn’t your mind that had the Morning Star’s attention.”
Night Shadow Star watched Rising Flame�
�s expression harden, the muscles in her cheeks flexing. “Do you not know why he stepped in, Keeper? Or are you really that dense?”
“Why? To meddle in Four Winds Clan business,” Wind snapped, clearly disturbed by the interplay.
Rising Flame gave her a dismissive look. “Pus and blood, you really are that thick!”
“Thick?” Wind exploded. “You little arrogant sheath! I was matron while you were still sucking on Eel Woman’s tit! Now, just because you’ve bled yourself into womanhood and you’re Slick Rock’s granddaughter, you think you’re something special? If you hadn’t been up there spreading for the Morning Star—”
Stop this!
The words hissed loudly in Night Shadow Star’s left ear. She even glanced to that side, expecting to see Piasa crouching there, flicking his serpent tail back and forth like a whip.
“Enough!” Night Shadow Star shouted as she stepped up and pulled Rising Flame back far enough to insert herself between the woman and the furious tonka’tzi.
“Unhand me!” Rising Flame spat the words.
Night Shadow Star glared from woman to woman but kept her grip locked on Rising Flame’s wrist. “Rising Flame is the clan matron. Duly elected. She will serve in that position.”
“Niece?” Wind asked uncertainly. “You take her position?”
Night Shadow Star searched Rising Flame’s hot eyes, saw the passion, and felt the racing pulse in her wrist. This was something more than Morning Star inserting himself in Four Winds Clan politics or just because Rising Flame had milked his shaft.
The rest is up to them, Piasa whispered in her ear.
At that, Night Shadow Star released the woman’s wrist and told her aunts, “She is the matron. Deal with it.”
Then, with Fire Cat following close on her heels, she turned and stalked from the room.
Eighteen
“What happened up there?” Fire Cat asked as he brought a steaming cup of mint tea to Night Shadow Star. She sat on her veranda step as evening fell over Cahokia. Equinox was coming, and with it the passage from summer to fall. The chill could be felt in the smoky and curiously still air.
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