Star Path--People of Cahokia

by W. Michael Gear

  “Quiet,” Piasa whispered from behind Night Shadow Star’s right ear.

  “Not a sound,” she whispered. “Don’t so much as knock a paddle to the hull.”

  Letting the current carry them, they drifted past the sleeping camp. Paddling wide, they cut across, hugging the Tenasee’s far bank as they turned upriver.

  “Who were those people? Why were they camped there, of all places?”

  “Blocking the river,” Night Shadow Star said with certainty. “Making sure that no one passed them in the night. Perhaps their guard is asleep? Piasa’s reason for waking me when he did?”

  “Wonder if they were going to search up the Sand in the morning?” Fire Cat was stroking vigorously with his paddle. “If they’re looking for us, it means that Blood Talon has allies. I wonder who?”

  “Tanned Wolf,” Night Shadow Star guessed. “Blood Talon made a fourth choice, Red Wing. Something we should have anticipated. He stopped at Red Bluff Town and talked the High Chief there into using his people to search for us.”

  “Blood Talon figured out that he was ahead of us,” Fire Cat mused. “So, of course he would have badgered the local colonists into helping. He would have placed scouts to watch the river, made sure we didn’t pass. Then he would have gathered his men, sent them all searching downriver, having them check camp spots, search villages and inlets, anyplace we might have holed up.”

  “Like Maygrass Town,” Shedding Bird said through an exhale. He bent his head around, staring at Night Shadow Star in the moon-bathed light. “And they’d have found us tomorrow morning. Lady, I’ll never doubt you again.”

  In the night, Piasa hissed his delight.

  So, we’ve escaped the net this time. Now all we have to do is get far enough upriver to be beyond the search.

  But how were they going to manage that? Every man, woman, and child between the River of Ducks and the Sand River would be on the lookout for Red Reed, and dawn would come long before they could make that passage.

  Thirty-six

  The day had been sunny, hot, the first real hint of summer. It had come so quickly that, with its fire, the interior of Blue Heron’s palace felt like an oven. To escape, Blue Heron had retreated outside to the southwest corner of her palace, her back to the wall, a bowl of coals by her side, her stone pipe in her hand.

  This was how Seven Skull Shield found her: sitting braced, puffing a cloud of blue smoke, eyes on the Four Winds Plaza where a group of young nobles were locked in a game of chunkey. Like so much of Cahokia, they were preparing for the lunar maximum moonrise that lay just days away.

  “Keeper, so here you are.”

  She glanced up at him. Shot a distasteful look at Farts. “Didn’t think I’d see you. Not given the number of people looking for you. And what on earth are you dressed as? You’ve got mud all over you.”

  “Crawfish trapper,” he told her, flopping down next to her and giving Farts the “down” signal. “No one would suspect a crawfish trapper of being Seven Skull Shield.”

  “That’s dirty work. Wading around in the mud to set out and pick up crawfish traps. Didn’t figure you for the kind who’d stoop to that kind of labor.”

  “I’m not. I stole the catch from a dirt farmer over south of the lake outside Serpent Woman Town.” At her irritated glare, he admitted, “All right, I ‘Traded’ for it. But I have standards. I stole the blanket I Traded for the crawfish from a Deer Clan chief over at that mound group east of Serpent Woman Town.”

  “So, there’s really crawfish?”

  “There’s really crawfish. A whole basketful. I left my ‘catch’ inside with Smooth Pebble. She’ll cook them up for us to share.”

  “Share? As in you think you’re eating supper here?”

  “Speaking of which, you going to strangle that pipe? I think you should hand it to me, rest your fingers a spell before they cramp up and ache.”

  She glared at him, only to have it fade into a weary smile as she handed her precious pipe over. “No other human being on earth would have the nerve or guts to ask me to share my smoke.”

  He puffed, enjoying the wonderful rush of fine tobacco. Not the mix of leaf, stems, berries, and other additives his less-exalted associates could afford down at the canoe landing. This was the real thing, straight, unadulterated. Traded up from the distant south along the Tenasee.

  “You still got that woman hid out over at Night Shadow Star’s?”

  “I do.”

  “See her much?”

  “Every couple of days or so.”

  “How’s that go over with Green Stick and the rest?”

  “They howled at first. Willow Blossom, she was bored in the beginning. But she was raised by good people. Wasn’t long before she was cooking, helping to keep the matting clean. She’s been going down to the plaza to Trade for food. Believe me, she really enjoys that. Thinks it’s a challenge to Trade a trinket for all she can get. Winter Leaf goes with her. Says she’s pure cutthroat when it comes to making the Trade. So, yes, she’s fitting in.”

  “Half of Cahokia’s looking for her, and you let her wander around the plaza? The most public place in the city?”

  “Best place to hide her. Right out in plain sight. Besides, she paints her face like a lady, wears fancy stuff from out of those baskets Fire Cat won in the chunkey game with the Natchez. If I didn’t know better, I’d never know it was Willow Blossom. She’s taken to it like she was born a high chief’s daughter.”

  “You sound like you’re smitten.”

  “I’m with her every chance I get.”

  Blue Heron took her pipe back, puffed, held it, and exhaled streams of smoke through her nose. “What about Wooden Doll?”

  “What about her?”

  “There is a woman after my own heart. She knows exactly what she wants … and will do anything to get it.”

  “Well, she doesn’t want me.”

  “And you think this new one does?”

  “Willow Blossom. That’s her name.”

  “Don’t sound so thorny, thief. Willow Blossom. Came from over by the Moon Mound. Panther Clan girl. Oldest of five children. Her father sold her to that rope maker, Robin Feather. Essentially Traded her for a coil of rope. Did you know that she’d been married a couple of times before that?”

  “What? No!”

  “First time was to a Bear Clan boy just after her first woman’s moon. She went with him and his family down to the Mother Water. They were supposed to help hack the Rising Moon site out of the forest. Apparently, wilderness living wasn’t her preferred brew of tea. It was a bad breakup. Almost led to violence. Next, her people married her to a Raccoon Clan fellow from up on the bluff. She left him and went home to her people with a pack full of shell, tool stone, and other valuables. Never heard from the Raccoon Clan fellow again. Not more than a moon after being home, she’s married off to Robin Feather. And, less than three moons later, she’s living happily in Night Shadow Star’s palace Trading for goodies with my niece’s wealth.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Be careful.”

  Seven Skull Shield took her pipe, sucked the last of the smoke from the bowl, and handed it back. Counting to ten, he finally exhaled as she knocked the dottle out, repacked the bowl, and used a coal to bring it to life.

  “She’s not what you think, Keeper.”

  “What is she?”

  “She’s kind, and a bit fragile. The way she looks at me, I can see her souls, sort of swimming there in her eyes. She has wonderful eyes. Large, deep. And the way her face lights up when I walk into the room? It’s not that she needs me, but…”

  “Uh-huh. And you can’t wait to snuggle up against that nice soft body? And when you’re locked together, it’s more than just coupling? She’s giving you all of herself because she’s finally discovered what being a woman in love’s all about?”

  “Well, I guess you could … I mean, how did you know?”

  She sighed, shook her head. “Nothing I say would matte
r, would it?”

  “You don’t know her.”

  “Actually, I do, but we’ll let that pass for the moment. Where’s the Koroa copper?”

  “How should I know?”

  She gave him a crafty sidelong look. “Tell me you didn’t leave it with Wooden Doll.”

  “No, I…”

  “Well, that’s one bit of good news. I like Wooden Doll. Wouldn’t want her snapped up in the mess that’s going to come when someone finally stumbles over it.”

  “What makes you think I’ve got it?”

  “Thief, I was Keeper for three tens of years. I didn’t survive for as long as I did by being a fool.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Maybe. Or you’re just lucky. Although given your feelings for Willow Blossom, I could wonder. But here’s the thing”—she gestured with the pipe—“for whatever reason, Morning Star has taken an unusual interest in that copper. Consider it hot poison.”

  “Why bring this all up now?”

  “Because I keep track of all the pieces. That copper will come to light. And if you’re holding it when it does, I’m Powerless to help you.”

  “Trust me, I’ll be all right.”

  She shook her head, took another puff from her pipe before handing it over. “Spotted Wrist and Rising Flame want you dead. Robin Feather has half of Cahokia looking for you. Sliding Ice knows a man was with me the night we caught him sticking his shaft in his sister, which means he’ll suspect you. Morning Star will have whoever stole that Koroa copper cut apart in the square, and all you can think about is making that calculating bit of fluff gasp and coo as you bounce her up and down on that oversized rod of yours.”

  “Hey, we saved Columella, didn’t we?”

  “That’s the thing about victories, they always come at a price.”

  “What price? Columella’s still sitting on the high chair over there.”

  Blue Heron narrowed a knowing eye, pointing at him with her pipe stem. “North Star and Horned Serpent Town were blackmailed into helping. River Mounds resents it because they were in a position of weakness that Three Fingers is going to exploit the moment the time is right. It’s going to fester. Especially with the moon ceremonies looming. The lunar maximum only happens every eighteen years, it’s big. And the traditional feasts are going to be small affairs, barely enough to fill bellies. The dirt farmers are going to be blaming the Earth Clans for the empty larders, and the Earth Clans are going to be blaming the Houses. That leaves a bitter taste to go along with all of those empty bellies. And you think there won’t be a price?”

  Seven Skull Shield winced. “So, who’s going to pay it?”

  “That, thief, is the question. And you’d better hope it’s not you and me.”

  Thirty-seven

  It took Red Reed a quarter moon to make the distance upriver that separated the Sand River from the River of Ducks. Most of the distance was made after dark, under the cover of night as White Mat and Shedding Bird, in the bow, felt their way upstream. Often it was done at a snail’s pace, literally pulling the canoe along the shore by grasping overhanging branches and tugging themselves forward.

  Other times they proceeded by wading through marshy shallows on the inside bends, one hand grasping the gunwales, the other casting about for balance as they sloshed, stumbled, and dunked themselves in hidden holes.

  When the waxing moon was at the right angle, they paddled across the backwaters. More than once, disaster was averted by mere seconds when Piasa whispered some warning in Night Shadow Star’s ear, urging her to order the canoe left or right, or to beach. Sometimes it was because of an approaching canoe, or a spinning log that came spiraling down on the current. A couple of times it was floating rafts of driftwood broken loose from some lodging upriver.

  During the day, they hid wherever the opportunity presented. Several times, they slept uncomfortably in the canoe, propped on the packs, chewed on by biting flies, gnats, and, of course, by the plagues of mosquitoes that hummed about them at dusk and dawn.

  But as the near-full moon shone from the night sky, they paddled past the mouth of the River of Ducks and, hopefully, any alert pursuit.

  That night, on a sand spit just above Fire Oak village—the northernmost Yuchi settlement—Night Shadow Star crawled, aching, sore, and bug-bitten, into her blankets. To Fire Cat, who lay just across from her, she said, “I never knew that humans could work this hard. What kind of people are these Traders? It seems that anything we, or the river, throw at them, they just grit their teeth, put their heads down, and work their way through it.”

  “Seriously? You have to ask?” Fire Cat shifted in his blankets, where they were thrown out under the spreading branches of a sassafras tree. Exhausted as they were, they’d chopped into one of the roots to taste the sweetness, taken bark to boil down for mosquito repellent.

  “I’m just trying to understand,” she answered, hearing Piasa laughing in the shadows of an oak that stood to one side. She could feel the beast’s disdainful humor.

  “The answer lies inside you. Tell me. You’re dog-weary, you’re scratched, covered with welts, half devoured by mosquitoes and biting flies. You beat a cottonmouth to death with a paddle today, and you’re absolutely filthy and sun-browned. But you’ve outsmarted a renowned war chief, worked your way up a hostile river undetected, and are in the middle of an epic journey. So, given all that, how do you feel about yourself?”

  “Proud. A kind of pride I’ve never felt before. It’s a particularly rewarding feeling. Not like winning a stickball championship, or some race, or a noted clan coup, but deeper. A fierce sense that I have accomplished something miraculous.”

  “Now, put yourself in the Traders’ moccasins. They’re escorting the Cahokian Lady Night Shadow Star on an epic quest. They’re doing something mythic. As if they’ve been chosen out of all the Traders in the world because they are the best. If they can do this thing, it will be the greatest accomplishment of their lives, and they’ll push themselves past the limits of endurance.”

  “Their limits exceed mine. They keep going when I’m too exhausted to lift the paddle for another stroke.”

  “That’s one of the reasons they do it, you know. Because they’ve watched you give everything you’ve got, then pull up more from some deep part of yourself. Because you might be one of the most highborn women in the world, but you work in the mud and the cold side by side with them.”

  He paused. “Though, I have to admit, having Piasa whispering in your ear, watching you lose yourself to the visions, that hasn’t hurt, either.”

  “I don’t understand why that would be. I’m scared, right down to the bottom of my souls. And the visions…” She clamped her eyes shut, as if to forever blot them out.

  “It adds to the sense of Power that you radiate like a white-hot stone. Remember when I said mythic? Knowing that Piasa talks to you makes you even more special.”

  “I don’t feel special. I don’t know who I am anymore. This new me is nameless, clanless, and all of my existence is focused on the river, on reaching Cofitachequi. On finding out who the woman will be who finally gets this body. She frightens me. And most of all, I worry that Piasa isn’t going to like her.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I no longer know if I can trust this new woman to serve him as he wishes to be served. I’m just not sure if I care what the consequences would be.”

  “There is always a price,” Piasa’s voice whispered from the night air.

  “Yes,” she told the beast. “I’m just tired of paying it.”

  “What’s he saying?” Fire Cat asked.

  To change the subject, she asked, “We can’t forget that Blood Talon is behind us. He’s not to be underestimated.”

  “By now he’s frantic, wondering if he made the right decision. If I were him, I’d be terrified that we turned and paddled flat-out down the Tenasee to the Mother River, maybe cut east to the mouth of the Southern Shawnee. I hear it’s only a hard day�
�s paddle to the confluence. We might have headed upstream for the Southern Shawnee’s source. From there we could take the trails cross-country to the divide with the upper Tenasee.”

  “That, or he knows we’ve managed to get ahead of him again.”

  “In which case, he will be coming. Maybe sending scouts in search of us. It all depends on what he could force or cajole the high chief at Red Bluff Town to do.”

  “Remember, a whole string of Cahokian colonies lie farther up the Tenasee as far as the Mussel Shallows,” she reminded, fixing the image of the map she’d seen in the Recorders’ Society House as she was preparing to leave. “And many of the local towns, especially the Yuchi ones, are friendly to Cahokia’s colonies. They’d be willing to turn us over in hopes of currying favor.”

  “Only if they knew who you were.”

  She stared thoughtfully across the gap between their beds. “I don’t even know who I am.”

  “You just said you were no longer Night Shadow Star. You most assuredly don’t look like her. Well, but for the Four Winds Clan tattoos on your cheeks. You could cover them with paint. Maybe a red circle?”

  “And be who?”

  “A Trader. You look like one wearing your hair like that, with your arms and shoulders packed with smooth muscle and your skin tanned the color of old leather. You’ve perfected your pronunciation of Trade pidgin. As long as you kept track of your tongue, said nothing in Cahokian that would betray your accent, who’d know?”

  Again, Piasa was laughing from the shadows.

  I could do this.

  But doing so would be letting loose of yet another piece of who she had once been. Cast her further adrift in the gray haze of oblivion. The notion both frightened and excited her.

  She lay there for the next few fingers of time, head pillowed on her hands, staring thoughtfully across the narrow space where Fire Cat’s deep breathing indicated he’d fallen into sleep.

  “It was Night Shadow Star who promised that she would not share her body with the Red Wing. If I were someone else, a simple Trader…”