He secured her sack to his breechcloth. The useless torch, he’d leave. There wasn’t room to stand; nor was he sure which way to go. He wasn’t even sure which way was up.
“Spirits,” he prayed. “I have no idea if I am worthy or not, but I serve Lady Night Shadow Star, who serves Piasa. I ask nothing of you but guidance on how to carry my lady out of here.”
As his words faded into the awesome silence of the Dead, he sighed. Nothing came in return.
Feeling along the wall, there were only two ways to go. “Very well, Lady. We’re going that way.”
Fire Cat shifted around in the narrow space, his shoulders wedged against the cold stone, and cradled Night Shadow Star as best he could before waddling ahead in the darkness.
He had never been so scared in his life.
Fifty-four
The location was perfectly chosen: a farmstead just off the Avenue of the Sun. No telling where the family was that lived here. Probably gone to wait for the Morning Star’s death, and to mourn his passage when it finally came. So many people had done just that. Half of River Mounds City had packed a burden basket full of food and trudged off to the Great Plaza to wait, and stare up at the high palace, and whisper prayers that the living god would continue to be the miracle they had celebrated all these years.
Well, let the foul god go for all Winder cared. As a child, growing up here, the Morning Star had done nothing for him. It didn’t matter if the Spirit Being were living in old Black Tail’s body, or Chunkey Boy’s young one, the living god had never so much as put a morsel of food in Winder’s mouth, let alone eased his misery.
“I hate this place,” he muttered as he stared out the farmstead doorway. How the family who lived here kept body and soul together was beyond him. The dwelling was a bent-pole wall construction, which, while roomy, looked like the first wind would blow it over. A small field out back was full of corn, beans, and squash, and ready for harvest. Out front—next to the ramada and pestle and mortar—a garden full of sunflowers, goosefoot, tobacco, and raspberries took up what little yard there was before surrendering to the avenue’s beaten white sand. The place was so close to River Mounds City that the two huge guardian posts that marked the boundaries were visible not more than three bowshots to the east.
All of which made it perfect for Winder. He had led his Quiz Quiz here by the back way—a secondary route that cut off from the avenue, wound its way to the north end of River Mounds City, and ended at the northern and swampy limits of the canoe landing where it followed Cahokia Creek back from the river.
When they had finished their task, they would return that way—hopefully without incident—and be on the river before nightfall.
Sky Star hobbled to his feet where he had been sitting with the rest of the warriors. Hitching his way to the door, he inclined his head, indicating that he wanted to speak privately.
Winder led the way out to the ramada, where Sky Star leaned against one of the poles to support his wounded body. “Are you sure you should have trusted that runner?”
Winder reached over and snapped off one of the sunflower seed pods. Using a thumbnail he began plucking out the black seeds and popping them into his mouth as he watched the few people passing. “Definitely not as much traffic. It’s like the Morning Star has put the world on hold while he dies.”
“I wasn’t concerned with traffic. What if we’re out here for nothing? Misdirected. And all the while that Cahokian bitch is back at Evening Star Town, sitting up in that palace feasting and drinking grape juice?”
Winder crunched more seeds before saying, “War Leader, the runner was from War Duck himself. And he got the information from Columella. They’re Four Winds Clan. Keeper Blue Heron is one of their own. Something happened up at the River House palace last night. Something bad enough to get the eternal fire extinguished—and War Duck blames Blue Heron for it. Columella couldn’t have known that.”
“So you think the old woman is coming this way with the box?”
“War Duck has no reason to lie. He’s in this up past his one good eyebrow. I can hear behind the words. None of this has worked out the way he anticipated. What he wants now is payback for the damage Blue Heron has done him and his House over the years, and to have us gone.”
Winder paused before adding, “And given that Cahokia is going to explode like a ball of wet clay in a hot fire the moment the Morning Star dies, gone is where we want to be.”
Sky Star closed his eyes. “This has been a disaster. I am ruined for the rest of my life. The War Medicine Bundle is profaned even if we get it back. It will have to be reconsecrated. I have lost two warriors, and the slave who warmed my bed has run off. My Power is broken. I am disgraced.”
“Maybe not. You will take the Four Winds Clan Keeper back as a prisoner. Or, if she dies, you’ll take her head and bones. She might not be the Surveyors’ Bundle, but no one has taken a member of Black Tail’s immediate family prisoner for almost a hundred years. I think there are war honors enough in that to allow you to live in prestige for the rest of your life.”
And it will have served to make me a fortune. I will be known as a man who can salvage a triumph out of disaster.
That brought a smile to Winder’s lips.
“My warriors are ready,” Sky Star announced. “Now, if she will just come as they said. You are sure she will not have an escort of warriors?”
“War Duck insisted there will be no warriors. Columella and her people don’t know that he is desperate to get Blue Heron out of the way.” Winder pointed with a hard finger. “You keep your men in line, War Leader. This has to be done my way. Quietly. Without screaming and yelling. As they come past, our people file out, surround the litters, and threaten the porters. I’ll order them to leave, and as soon as they do, Red Stroke and Moccasin grab and gag the old lady while Smoking Water takes the War Medicine box from the second litter. And then we move.”
“And then we move,” the war leader agreed. “Quietly. As fast as we can for the canoes. I want to be gone from this place.”
“You and me both. But War Leader, if you start to slow us down, I will order you carried. Do not argue. I’ll tell everyone it is a show of respect for your courage and audacity as the war leader who captured Blue Heron and recovered the War Medicine.”
“You lie with a very clever tongue, Winder.”
Sky Star hobbled out to look down the avenue. “We have been here almost a full hand of time. Why have they not come?”
“Patience, War Leader. The later they are, the better I feel. It means that they don’t have an escort. That when War Duck didn’t provide one, they tried to find someone else.” At least that’s what he hoped had happened. Though the old woman might have turned around and had someone paddle across the river to Evening Star Town to see if she could beg an escort from Columella.
“I do hope she lives long enough to make it back to Quiz Quiz,” Sky Star said wistfully. “My souls ache with the desire to hang her rot-infested body in the square. It will be a challenge, but I want to see if I can keep her alive and suffering for a half moon. She won’t see any of it, of course, because I’m going to cut her eyes out before I drive a burning stick into her sheath. I have a lot to pay her back for.”
Winder gave the war leader a smile. He would be long gone from Quiz Quiz. Unless Cahokia tore itself apart with civil war after the Morning Star’s death, the Four Winds Clan would retaliate. Not even War Duck—complicit in her abduction—could allow the Quiz Quiz to go unpunished. In fact, he would probably yell the loudest about foreign perfidy as he assembled an army to hammer the brains and guts out of the poor Quiz Quiz. If Cahokia acted quickly enough, they could probably justify the conquest to the other lower river Nations in a way that would avoid the inevitable retaliation.
I wonder if I should offer myself to War Duck as a guide?
He was pondering this when he noticed the approaching party. Yes, two litters coming just behind what looked like a double rank of slaves bear
ing large burden baskets hung from tumplines.
“Alert the warriors,” Winder told Sky Star. “They are coming. Right behind those slaves. And yes, look there. I see Seven Skull Shield and that dog of his.”
“I shall kill them both!” Sky Star gritted, his eyes afire.
Winder grabbed a handful of the war leader’s hunting shirt. “You will not! I said this was to be done quietly. If you can’t make that happen, hobble your scarred carcass back inside and send me Moccasin to command this operation!”
For moments they glared into each other’s eyes, Sky Star finally relenting. “But the thief and the dog die?”
“Fine. But not here. Not on the road.”
“And if he fights?”
Winder considered, then shrugged it away. “He won’t fight. Not if a blade is held against the old woman’s throat. Leave that to me. I know my old friend. His biggest weakness is that pus-rotted sense of loyalty.”
Winder slapped the war leader on the back. “Now, send your warriors out here. I want them bent over, harvesting raspberries and sunflower seeds, their weapons out of sight down in the plants.”
As the Quiz Quiz warriors filed out and bent to the deception, Winder motioned Red Stroke and Moccasin over. “You understand your task?”
“Yes, Trader,” Red Stroke replied. “As soon as the litter is on the ground, we lay hold of the old woman and carry her off.”
“We’ve got to be fast.”
“What about those slaves out front?”
“They are slaves, what do they care?”
“And the ones coming behind?”
Winder took a look, seeing a second party perhaps a stone’s throw behind Blue Heron’s litter. Twenty half-naked men, cloth pads on their shoulders where they were bearing a heavy log to some distant construction project.
“Even if they cared, we’re armed; they are not.”
“Yes, Trader.”
“Now bend down. Let’s look like we’re working.”
Despite himself, Winder couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Seven Skull Shield. His old friend was plodding along, obviously engaged in conversation with the old woman riding atop the first litter. He was close enough now that that Skull’s old familiar laugh carried.
By Piasa, old friend, I am so sorry it’s come to this.
Or maybe it hadn’t. Perhaps, just maybe, like in the old days, Seven Skull Shield would see that all was lost, and he’d turn on his heel and run.
Please do that.
A curling anxiety turned sour in his gut as the line of dirty slaves shuffled past, backs bent under what had to be heavy loads. Splotches of dried mud had caked to their skin, and sweat stains had traced lines through the grime.
Not more than ten paces behind them came Blue Heron’s familiar litter, her porters striding along, faces blank of emotion. Just men doing a job and periodically talking among themselves.
Atop the litter, the old woman sat, her form completely swaddled in a blanket, a beautiful lace shawl pulled over her head, no doubt to hide the bruises as well as obscure her identity.
Seven Skull Shield was pacing along on the near side, telling some story about fish while that ungainly dog of his panted just behind, its bearlike jaws agape, tail swishing.
And yes, the following litter—carried by only four porters—bore some sort of boxy thing on the seat. Its nature was uncertain since it was wrapped in a fine yellow-and-black striped blanket. But the size was most definitely right.
Bless you, Horned Serpent!
Just as Winder met Seven Skull Shield’s eyes, he shouted in Quiz Quiz, “Move! Take them.”
The warriors around him ripped their war clubs from the obscuring vegetation and went charging out to surround the litter. Even as they did, the porters, frightened half out of their wits, dropped the litter and bolted, running like deer.
“Go! Go! Go!” Winder shouted, his heart leaping with joy.
Seven Skull Shield, meanwhile, stood as if rooted, a queer smile on his lips.
“Run, Skull!” Winder shouted in Cahokian, knowing Sky Star couldn’t understand. “Save yourself! They’ll kill you otherwise.”
“Can’t do that, old friend.” Skull stood stoically as the Quiz Quiz surrounded him, war clubs ready.
“Come on,” Winder pleaded. “They just want the old woman and the box!”
“No.” Seven Skull Shield beckoned. “Come over here. You kill me first.”
Images flashed between Winder’s souls: he and Skull as boys. Laughing, shivering together under a blanket. Was this how that friendship would end? “I … can’t!”
“What in Piasa’s name!” Moccasin cried, having leaped to the far side of the first litter and ripped the lace shawl away. At the second litter Red Stroke was tugging the blanket to the side to expose the War Medicine.
For a long and shocked moment, everyone stared.
A dwarf stood braced against the seat back as he pawed for balance. Even as he recovered, he shouted, “This is intolerable! As a servant of Lady Columella, high matron of the Evening Star House, I command you to lay down your arms.”
Meanwhile Seven Skull Shield was grinning, gesturing to the big dog to stay. The beast was bouncing on his paws, unsure about what was happening, but reading the excitement and tension.
“War Leader,” Smoking Water cried from the second litter. He and Red Stroke had finally torn the blanket off the box, exposing a square crate made of rough pine slats. From inside he lifted a couple of cracked brownware pots. Staring in disbelief, he cried, “This is not the War Medicine!”
“You piece of shit!” Winder bellowed, starting forward. “What have you done?”
Skull just kept grinning, and all the while the dwarf was shouting insults, dancing up and down on the litter seat, demanding their surrender and shaking his fist. The Quiz Quiz stared in stunned amazement.
“Not a step closer,” Seven Skull Shield warned, “or I’ll turn the dog loose on you, Winder. And if that happens, a lot of people are going to get killed.”
“Killed?” Winder bellowed. “Have you lost all the smarts you’ve ever had? You’re surrounded by warriors! One word from me, old friend, and you and your silly little dwarf are dead!”
“What has happened here?” Sky Star cried, hobbling up from the side, where he’d been observing. He, too, couldn’t keep his eyes off the pirouetting dwarf on the litter.
“We’ve been tricked!” Winder said through gritted teeth.
“Kill them,” Sky Star ordered. “Enough of this! Show them how Quiz Quiz deal with fools!”
“Winder?” Seven Skull Shield chided, that old easy smile on his lips. “Before you do anything foolish…” And he pointed.
A cold realization slipped down Winder’s spine as he followed Seven Skull Shield’s finger. While they’d all been gawking in confused disbelief at the gesticulating and shouting dwarf, the slaves ahead had slipped their tumplines and dropped their burden baskets. From inside they had plucked shields, strung bows, and quivers full of arrows. They might look like slaves, but they now advanced in a half circle like blooded warriors—eyes deadly as they stared down nocked arrows.
Winder filled his lungs to order a retreat, but when he shot a quick glance behind to chart an escape, he froze. The crew who had been toting the heavy log had dropped it onto the avenue. Winder could now see that the top and inside had been hollowed out, perhaps as the start of a canoe. From the hollow, the men had plucked bows and quivers. As this impossibility struck home, they were fanning out in the way only a practiced squadron could, cutting off any retreat.
Surrounded!
His warriors, armed only with war clubs, stood no chance. They’d be shot down at the first volley.
“Winder, tell them to lay down their arms,” Skull said. “These are elite warriors from the Evening Star squadron. At an order from Flat Stone Pipe here, they will kill every last one of you.”
“No!” Sky Star cried. “I will not go back to the square.”
“Your Power is broken, War Leader,” Winder told him. “At least if we surrender, perhaps your people will ransom you. To die—shot down like trapped deer—because you have been tricked by a thief and a dwarf is not an honorable death.”
“Drop your weapons,” Sky Star cried, tears streaking from his eyes.
Winder’s hopes and dreams died as the Quiz Quiz war clubs thumped hollowly on the sandy roadway.
Fifty-five
Someone was stroking the side of Night Shadow Star’s head, and she realized it was a tender finger tucking a curl of her hair behind her right ear. The touch was light, almost reverent, and she stirred.
“Welcome back,” Fire Cat greeted softly.
She blinked, blinked again—and realized that her eyes were indeed open to the incredible blackness. She lay canted on her side in his lap, her head on his shoulder, her body tucked against his.
“We’re in the cave,” she said, remembering. “How long has it been?”
At that, he laughed. “An eternity? Days? A couple of hands of time? I have no idea.”
She should have forced herself to sit up, but she remained where she was, reaching out only to hug an arm around his neck until it encountered the unyielding stone against which he leaned. To lie thus—feeling his warmth, his arms around her—conjured a deep satisfaction inside her tired souls.
“I saw my children,” he told her. “Talked with them. Played. They told me…” His voice caught. “They told me it was all right.” A pause. “They looked so real. I thought for a moment … I mean, they really are dead, aren’t they? Not some trick? Spotted Wrist … I thought he…”
“Yes, they are dead. No trick. You are in the Underworld, Fire Cat. The place to which their bodies and souls were consigned. The longer you are here, the more of the Dead you will see, until your souls can’t stand it anymore, and you leave your suffocating body behind … preferring to join the Dead rather than to remain trapped in such a pitiful and fragile shell as flesh.”
“I thought it might have been Sister Datura tricking my souls. As it is, I have the craziest images running through my memory. Flashes of light. Screaming in pain.”
Moon Hunt Page 38