Read People of the Longhouse Online
Authors: W. Michael Gear
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal
People of the Longhouse (8 page)
“Twenty?” Sindak stopped in the middle of the trail. “That’s idiotic.”
“I told you. Get out of it if you can.”
Sindak could suddenly envision his death, and he didn’t like the looks of it. He started walking again. “I can’t. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life making excuses for why I didn’t die with honor.”
“You’d rather be in somebody’s stomach than look cowardly?”
“Absolutely.”
Two little boys ran up the trail. They veered wide around an ancient maple that fluttered crimson leaves down upon them and laughed
as they raced by. Towa smiled and turned to watch them as they splashed their way through a pile of leaves. Two summers ago, Towa had lost his children and wife to a fever. He never talked about it, but sometimes Sindak could still see the pain in his eyes. “Blessed Ancestors, I don’t—”
as they raced by. Towa smiled and turned to watch them as they splashed their way through a pile of leaves. Two summers ago, Towa had lost his children and wife to a fever. He never talked about it, but sometimes Sindak could still see the pain in his eyes. “Blessed Ancestors, I don’t—”
A shout rang through the trees: “
Two Standing Stone warriors coming!”
Two Standing Stone warriors coming!”
They looked toward the northern sentry position, but they could just barely see him amid the dark hickory branches.
“The two travelers are Standing Stone warriors?” Towa’s bushy black brows lowered. “Are they imbeciles? We’ll slaughter them.”
Sindak broke into a run. “Maybe they bring news about Zateri?”
By the time they reached the palisade, fifty Hills warriors were already assembled outside the main gate with arrows nocked in their bows. War Chief Nesi stood in front. A square-jawed bear of a man, his black headband held his chopped-off hair in place. Of medium height, he was all muscle. Ridges of white scars covered his face. Rather than a bow, he carried a massive stone-headed war club in his fist.
The two Standing Stone warriors came up the trail with their hands in the air. The woman was a tall, hard-eyed beauty. Her short hair was jagged, cut in mourning, and she had a sun-bronzed oval face with large dark eyes. She wore her red cape oddly tied over her belly.
“Blessed gods,” Towa said, “I think that’s Koracoo.”
“It can’t be,” Sindak said disdainfully. “She’s too smart to do something like this.”
The woman called, “We come in peace!”
Sindak frowned at the man. His face, once handsome, looked much older than his jet-black hair would suggest. Battle walks did that, left telltale signs. Wrinkles etched lines across his forehead and cut deeply at the corners of his eyes.
“I think that’s Koracoo’s deputy, Gonda.”
“Her husband? You may be right. I saw him once, five summers ago on my first raid.”
Every eye in the village focused on the Standing Stone warriors. The matrons whispered behind their hands and made the sign against evil to protect them from any Spirits that may have walked the forest trails with the enemy.
Koracoo stopped short. “We must speak with Chief Atotarho.”
Nesi stepped into the path in front of her, blocking her way just outside the palisade. “What message do you carry, War Chief Koracoo?”
Conversation burst out across the village. Everyone knew her name. In the past two summers since she had been elected war chief, she had killed many of their warriors.
Koracoo fearlessly walked up to stare him in the eye. “My words are for the chief’s ears.”
Towa leaned sideways to whisper, “She’s smart. We can’t kill her until we know.”
Sindak’s gaze went over Koracoo. She wore a red cape painted with the image of a blue buffalo. Her full lips were pressed into a tight white line, and her eyes promised death a hundred times over. She seemed to have something hidden in her tied cape.
Chief Atotarho lifted a hand. “Nesi, it’s all right. Bring her to me.”
A path opened through the crowd, and Nesi gestured for Koracoo to walk it. As she did, Gonda started to follow her.
Nesi thrust out his club to block Gonda’s path. “Just her.”
“I am her deputy. I
never
leave her side.”
never
leave her side.”
Nesi raised his club as though to strike, and ordered, “You will do as I say, warrior. Or I will club you senseless.”
Sindak had to give Gonda credit; he didn’t flinch. He stood his ground and growled, “Get out of my way!”
Atotarho called, “Nesi, let them both approach!”
Nesi glowered at Gonda, but stood aside and allowed him to follow his wife.
Sindak whispered, “She’s magnificent, isn’t she?”
“Hmm?” Towa said absently. He was staring at Gonda. “Who?”
“Koracoo. She’s stunning. Though I’ve heard Nesi say she’s timid, and that’s why she doesn’t go looking for fights to prove her valor. Do you think she’s timid?”
Since Koracoo had become war chief, her village rarely fought, and then only when attacked. That fact had led many Hills warriors to assume she was weak.
Towa replied, “For a timid woman, she’s slaughtered a lot of our best warriors. It’s far more likely that she picks her battles carefully.”
Sindak grunted. Given the choice, he’d rush in with his bow singing and contemplate the repercussions later—an attitude that had gotten him into more than one impossible situation and earned him more than his share of ridicule. “You think much as she does, Towa. Someday, if you ever learn to aim, you may make—”
Koracoo stopped less than two paces from the chief and said, “Chief Atotarho, I have brought a child that needs your help.”
Atotarho glanced at her belly. “What child?”
Gonda untied Koracoo’s cape while Koracoo kept her hands on the bulge in her war shirt. When she gently reached beneath her war shirt and pulled out the naked baby, astonished cries rose from the spectators. People surged forward to look, pushing Towa and Sindak closer.
Atotarho asked, “Who does the child belong to?”
“We don’t know, Chief. We’ve been tracking the war party that stole our children after the Yellowtail Village attack. Along the way, we found this baby, alive, but not well. Her soul is loose. She needs food and shelter immediately.”
“Why should I care? She’s not from this village.”
“Perhaps not, but she is one of the People of the Hills. The blanket she was wrapped in bore your distinctive spiral designs.”
Atotarho’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where is the blanket? Let me see it.”
“It was soiled. We left it. But I have no cause to lie to you. She is a Hills child. In one of your villages, someone must be desperate to find her.”
Koracoo extended her arms, holding out the baby. Several of the women in the crowd looked hard at the child, but none came forward to take it.
Koracoo said, “Chief, once you notify the other Hills villages that the baby is here, I’m sure her grateful family will arrive and shower you with gifts. Even if her parents are dead, her clan will want her back. Will you deny them the right?”
A pretty young woman, perhaps sixteen summers, shoved through the crowd and asked, “What color were the spirals on her blankets?”
“Red and black.”
The woman turned to Atotarho. “Chief, those are Hawk Clan designs. I am Hawk Clan. If you will allow it, my family will take her until her family arrives.”
Atotarho looked annoyed, but he flicked his hand at her, and she scurried forward, took the baby from Koracoo’s arms, and hurried away toward the Hawk Clan longhouse.
Atotarho stood stiffly. “I understand little of this, War Chief Koracoo. Please tell me more of your story. Yellowtail Village was attacked?”
Koracoo exchanged a look with Gonda before she replied, “We assumed that perhaps some of your warriors were on the raid.”
“No. I was on a trading expedition to the Flint lands. I took sixty of our warriors with me and left the rest here to protect the village while we were away. When did this happen?”
“Five days ago.”
Atotarho scanned Koracoo’s face, then Gonda’s, as though he feared trickery. “When did you find the baby?”
“Just this afternoon. We also think we found the trail of the warriors who stole our children, which means we need to resume our search as soon as possible.”
“Your children? You mean your own children? Not just Yellowtail children?”
“My son and daughter were among those captured,” Koracoo explained.
Sindak leaned over to whisper to Towa, “Zateri was also stolen five days ago. Is there a connection?”
“How could there be?”
Atotarho said, “War Chief Koracoo, do I have your oath that none of your warriors were involved in the attack on my trading party?”
She frowned. “Your trading party was attacked? I know nothing of it. Half of our warriors were killed when we were attacked, and I ordered the other half to guard our village survivors while they cared for the dead and collected their few belongings. I assure you, Yellowtail Village has sent no war parties into Hills country.”
Atotarho’s cape flapped in the wind as he considered her words. In a fearful voice, he said, “Were there other children taken?”
“Yes, several. Though I can’t say they were all taken by the same war party.”
Atotarho shivered suddenly, as though the thin lance of the forest night had pierced his cape. He stepped closer to Koracoo. His misshapen body crackled as he moved, and his face had taken on an almost skeletal appearance. “I pray it is not so … but I fear we may have a common enemy.”
“Who?”
He backed away, saying, “I need to discuss this with our matrons before I tell you more.” He lifted a hand to Nesi. “War Chief? Take them to the prisoners’ house until I know the matrons’ wishes.”
“No!” Gonda shouted. “We need to get back on the trail immediately.”
“Quiet,” Koracoo ordered softly.
N
esi pointed his war club. “You four: Sindak, Towa, Ober, and Akio, take these warriors to the prisoners’ house and set up alternating watches.” Nesi looked toward the eastern side of the village, where the prisoners’ house nestled against the high palisade wall. On the catwalk near the top, warriors stood guard. Then his gaze scanned the crowd. People had started to grumble. Several had picked up rocks. “And hurry, before anyone takes a notion to avenge his dead relatives.”
esi pointed his war club. “You four: Sindak, Towa, Ober, and Akio, take these warriors to the prisoners’ house and set up alternating watches.” Nesi looked toward the eastern side of the village, where the prisoners’ house nestled against the high palisade wall. On the catwalk near the top, warriors stood guard. Then his gaze scanned the crowd. People had started to grumble. Several had picked up rocks. “And hurry, before anyone takes a notion to avenge his dead relatives.”
“Yes, War Chief.” Sindak gestured for Koracoo and Gonda to start walking. Gonda gave him a hostile look, but walked.
Sindak let Ober and Towa escort the Standing Stone warriors, while he and Akio brought up the rear.
Villagers coalesced into a small mob and followed them.
“This could be unpleasant,” Akio whispered. He had seen just sixteen summers and spent most of his time lounging around his family’s longhouse, which was why he was pudgy and perpetually out of breath. “Our village lost many warriors in that battle with the Standing Stone people last moon.”
“Last moon’s battle was not with Yellowtail Village,” Sindak pointed out. “White Dog Village—”
“It won’t matter to the families that lost loved ones. For them a Standing Stone warrior is a Standing Stone warrior.”
Akio was right. Sindak kept turning around and noticed that Koracoo, too, was carefully observing the crowd. Her shoulder muscles had gone tight under her red cape.
Akio said, “I wonder where she stowed CorpseEye?”
“Her legendary war club? I had forgotten all about it.”
“It must be somewhere close. She wouldn’t leave Yellowtail Village without it. It’s supposed to have great Spirit Power.” His fat florid face reddened with excitement. “And it’s worth a fortune.”
“You’re a greedy boy, Akio.” Actually, it was a good idea. If they could find it and deliver it to Nesi, he would reward them handsomely. “Tomorrow morning, if they are still captives, I’ll help you hunt.”
Akio smiled. “I’ll be ready. Maybe we should ask Towa to help, too?”
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t believe in Spirit Power.”
“He believes in wealth, doesn’t he?” Akio gave him a sideways look. When Sindak didn’t respond immediately, Akio added, “And not believing in Spirit Power is dangerous. Someday a Spirit is going to sneak up on him and suck his souls out through his ears.”
Sindak shrugged. “It will be interesting to see if he notices.”
As they approached the prisoners’ house, one old woman shouted, “Standing Stone filth,” and threw a rock at Koracoo. It struck her in the shoulder. Koracoo swung around to glare at the woman just as another rock whistled past, thumped off the house, and bounced across the ground.
“Hurry,” Towa said. “Let’s get them inside.”
The prisoners’ house stretched forty hands long and twenty wide. The walls were not of bark construction, but sturdy oak planks reinforced with cross-poles.
Ober pulled back the heavy door—hung on leather hinges—and said, “Quickly, before we have to put down a riot.”
Koracoo and Gonda disappeared into the darkness. Ober closed the door and dropped the plank across it to lock it.
A boy picked up another rock and grunted as he hurled it as hard as he could. It cracked against the house. “You killed my brother!” he cried, and broke into tears. “My only brother! I hope you die!”
Ober shouted, “Get out of here! All of you. Go home. You can call insults tomorrow!”
No one paid attention to him.
Several knots of people formed. They stood around grumbling, shouting insults, and casting hateful glances at the prisoners’ house. Stones continued to thump the walls.
Towa turned to Sindak. “I think you and I should take first watch.”
Sindak nodded, and they took up guard positions on either side of the door.
Ober scanned the remaining people, then walked over to Towa and softly asked, “Can you do this, Towa? You’re still injured. What if trouble breaks out?”
Towa smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be all right. I’ll shout for help and hold them off until you get here.”
Ober stared hard into his eyes, silently judging Towa’s strength and ability. “Very well. Akio and I will sleep with the Wolf Clan tonight.” He aimed his war club at Tila’s longhouse. It was a massive structure, the largest in the village, and as night deepened, it loomed like a huge dark monster. “We’ll be no more than twenty paces away if you need us.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
Ober and Akio walked away. Several members of the crowd cursed them for protecting the prisoners, knowing all the while the men had been ordered to do so.
“Filthy Standing Stone beasts!” an old woman screamed and hurled a pot at the prisoners’ house. It shattered against the planks, and sherds cartwheeled across the ground. “I’ll kill you myself before you leave here!”
“I’ll help her!” A muscular warrior named Tadu shouted, and hurled another stone. It whacked against the house and clattered down among the broken potsherds.
Sindak, about to comment on the situation, turned to Towa … and saw something. A momentary flash of light, like the flare of a hidden lightning bolt. It frosted the wooden roof of the prisoners’ house. He blinked.
“What are you looking at?” Towa asked.
“There’s a storm coming. I just saw lightning.”
“What lightning? There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
“How would you know? You have the vision of a mole. It was right there.” He pointed.
Beyond the palisade wall, a gigantic maple stood, its scarlet leaves like drops of blood against the bruised evening sky. In that moment,
Sindak would have sworn the great tree had eyes. Eyes fixed right on him.
Sindak would have sworn the great tree had eyes. Eyes fixed right on him.
Sindak glanced at the warriors who stood guard on the catwalk. They held their weapons in tight fists, staring out at the coming night as though they sensed it, too. Many had their jaws clenched.
“Don’t you feel that, Towa?”
“Feel what?”
“That eerie sensation, as though there’s something out there, something not human. And it’s waiting to pounce on us.”
“Like a bear?”
“No, not like a bear, like one of the Faces of the Forest, or a Stone Giant. Maybe even a Flying Head.” A prickle climbed Sindak’s spine. Flying Heads were terrifying creatures. They had no bodies, just long trailing hair, and huge bear paws for hands, which they used to capture and eat anything they wished, including humans.
Towa laughed. “Lightning? Flying Heads? You are very inventive, my friend.”
Sindak grinned, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching him with glistening inhuman eyes.
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