Zadayi Red (31 page)

Wilu understood this family better than his father did. He found a life of pleasure tempting. Sometimes he wondered about his father’s love of killing and his thirst for power. But Wilu had no intention of taking the Vaj path. He wanted to be Red Chief one day. Zanda had won the election last time, but another would come and his legendary father would swing votes. Inaj demanded total dedication.

The three carried their weapons—even that was questionable behavior in this village—and started up the river. “Good to be away from these vain Cusas for an afternoon,” said Inaj. He could never forgive them their pride in being peaceful.

A hundred paces beyond the last hut a creek ran into the river, and the knapping site was above the head of the creek.
Maybe the noise of the two streams was why Wilu and Zanda didn’t hear the footfalls. But their father did.

Knob Chin was walking like an old man. He had big scabs and one wound still open on his neck and shoulders. He gazed dully at Inaj and murmured, “Chief.”

“Fool!” said Inaj.

They had some trouble getting Knob Chin to the site, but Inaj tongue-lashed him upward. This man, one of Inaj’s most trusted warriors, chosen to be the first to use the blow dart in battle, now padded along like an invalid. When they found the flint, he lay flat on a boulder while Inaj, Wilu, and Zanda worked.

Inaj’s questions were merciless.

Knob Chin threw words back. “I am sure he’s dead, damn well sure.”

“You—”

Knob Chin was testy enough to interrupt the Chief. “The poison, it went into him deep.”

Inaj didn’t bother to look up from the spear tip he was flaking. “So you say. I keep reading the story in all those scabs. Maybe a story more truthful than the one your tongue tells.”

He held the spear tip up to the best light. Making a fine one was skilled work, and he liked it.

From the corner of his eye he saw that Knob Chin’s eyes were pleading. That was good. Humiliation was an effective tool, one of Inaj’s favorites.

“I would feel a lot better if you had brought me his head. That was your assignment.”

“I told you—”

Inaj interrupted. “Yes, the bird.” The word came off his tongue dripping with contempt.

“The buzzard. You see what he did to me.”

Inaj saw. “He tried to take your head off.” The Chief gave
Knob Chin a smile that suited a warrior who had been defeated in battle by a bird.

“Zanda, it’s interesting, isn’t it? Who would think Sunoya would give up her spirit animal, even for a short time?”

Zanda made a grunt of assent and kept his eyes on his work.

Inaj gave Knob Chin a big grin. “Now we know why your predecessors didn’t come back.”

“Well, I’m back.”

Inaj took a last look at his handiwork and said, “This is a fine point.” He stood up. “Let’s get you to the village for some sanctuary.” He mouthed the word ironically. “You need it.”

Knob Chin watched the Chief start down the creek, rubbing the edge of his point with his thumb. No doubt it was a sharp edge. Knob Chin was glad it wasn’t meant for his flesh.

Su-Li flew straight at Zeya, made a sharp pivot, and flew straight back toward the Cusa village. Then, so Zeya would be sure, he repeated the signal.

Zeya got it—an enemy in the village.

He left the river trail and scrambled through the trees up the mountain. Then he sat on a high overlook and looked down. Not that he could see any enemies from the distance. That was Su-Li’s job.

All the way up the mountain his mind simmered with frustration. He looked forward to getting to the village. He had all the feathers. He had killed two assassins and escaped the third. Now he wanted Awahi to bless the feathers and let him take them to Tsola.

Su-Li squawked.

“All right,” he said, “yes, I want to see Jemel, too.”

Su-Li squawked again.

“Okay, I’m crazy to talk to her. But I can’t.” Those were the terms of his mission. But he could watch her, from a distance.

“So what enemy is here? Another one of Inaj’s assassins?”

Su-Li shook his head no.

“So who?”

The buzzard waited.

“Do I have other enemies in the world?” He steamed. What had he done to deserve this? Then he thought. “You mean Inaj is here? Himself?”

Su-Li nodded his head yes.

Zeya took in this news. Finally, he said, “I need to sleep.” He found a grassy spot and stretched out on one of his hides. He was bone-weary, weary of travel, weary of loneliness, weary of climbing to aeries, weary of fear, weary of killing. He didn’t get any sleep.

Su-Li crouched on the young man’s shoulder. In the middle of the night he didn’t take to the sky—too risky to fly in the darkness.

Zeya had a job, but couldn’t help wondering where Jemel was. What hut did she sleep in? Did she like these relatives? Was she being courted? Was she slipping into the bushes with another man? Or more than one? Jealousy simmered in his gut.

He cursed himself for not concentrating on what needed to be done. After a while he knew where the two village guards were standing, one upriver and one down. He whispered, and Su-Li nodded his head yes.

Zeya decided to go in noisily, scuffling his feet, whapping branches, and calling, “Friend,” in a loud whisper.

“Cusa?” asked a disembodied voice. The guard had taken cover, but he knew the approaching figure was a Galayi.

“Soco,” said Zeya. “I’ve come to see Awahi.”

The guard showed himself, a moving shadow among still shadows cast by the moon.

“Friend!” said Zeya again, walking forward. “I need your help.”

The guard jumped at the sight of Su-Li. Zeya spoke a few words. The man nodded and was gone. Before long, he came back with Awahi himself.

“Is it really you?” said Eagle Voice. “Did you get away from his assassins?”

“By luck.”

Awahi gave him a look that said, ‘Not all luck. Couldn’t be.’

The older man wheezed, “It’s dangerous here,” and started toward his hut.

“It’s dangerous everywhere,” said Zeya, following.

“Yes, but did you know Inaj is right in this village?”

“I know.”

“With his sons Wilu and Zanda.” If possible, the old man seemed skinnier, no more than a few twigs.

Zeya muttered a curse. Su-Li corrected him with a nip on the ear.

Awahi held up a hand for silence. Zeya was afraid the dogs would bark at the buzzard smell, but none did.

Back in his home, Awahi said, “Want to eat?”

Zeya was cold and empty-bellied. He tucked his weapons into a corner and asked for tea and meat.

Awahi rasped, “Inaj has been here for half a moon. He’s pretending to visit his brother, but he’s really waiting for you. He didn’t think you’d live this long. On the other hand, he’s thorough.”

Awahi handed Zeya some dried meat, and Zeya shared it with Su-Li. Zeya hadn’t had meat since the dart stuck him.

“After you left before, he came and asked me questions.” Awahi didn’t sound happy about it.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I told you how to gather feathers in a sacred manner.”

“Anything about Tsola?”

“Nothing.”

But something was bothering the old man.

“He demanded—you know how that beast makes his demands—to know what nests you would go to first. I lied to him.”

“I didn’t go where you told me anyway.”

“Praise to the spirits that you’re alive.”

“I have to sleep,” said Zeya.

Awahi thought and said, “You are an honored guest. To have you in my home is a blessing, and you may stay as long as you like. But I’m frightened for you.” He cast a nervous eye at the spear, club, and blow gun.

“I’ll stay inside all day tomorrow.”

“Inaj, Wilu, Zanda, and the third assassin, the one Su-Li attacked but didn’t kill, they watch this hut all the time. They’ve probably also asked the guards to keep an eye out, adding gifts to win loyalty. They may already know you’re here.”

Zeya and Su-Li looked at each other.

“Also, in the daytime you could stay inside, but even you have to go out to pee.”

“Then I’d better get the blessing and go,” said Zeya.

“It will be a privilege to bless the feathers. Did you get enough?”

“Plenty.”

“Good. I’ll bless them, and you can rest until the Hunch-back constellation says first light is near, then slip away.”

“Okay.”

“Remember, nothing can happen to you in this village. The peace chiefs don’t kill—they do worse.” Awahi chuckled.

Zeya knew the penalty, banishment, living completely alone the rest of your life. And it was rigorously enforced by all bands. He thought,
You end up crazy as Paya
.

Then Awahi said, “Something important. One of Inaj’s sons may kill you tomorrow. But if you kill him . . .” And Awahi told him what had to be done.

Su-Li flapped up to Awahi’s smoke hole. The buzzard ratcheted his head in several directions and saw nothing. “Fly away at the first hint of light,” said the old man.

To Zeya, Awahi said, “A man walking with a buzzard on his shoulder is a little conspicuous.”

Zeya slipped away in the last of the darkness and met Su-Li where the guard had stood.

“No guard here,” said Zeya. Both of them wondered whether the guard had left his post to tell Inaj and get some kind of reward.

Zeya had thought his plan through out loud back in the hut, Su-Li nodding approval or disapproval and Awahi pitching in with an occasional bit of advice. Zeya was eager to get it done.

He sprinted along the trail downriver. The two sacks over his shoulders, one full of feathers and one with a little dried meat, bounced clumsily. The spear and the war club were awkward in Zeya’s hands, and the blow gun rubbed against his butt. But he needed distance. He wanted to get downriver, the direction away from the Emerald Cavern. He wondered if they would suspect. If no one followed him, he would circle the long way around to Tsola.

Just as the sun came up, he found a rocky outcropping where his tracks wouldn’t show and slipped off the trail. He hid his club and spear under a log. A little way off, he stored his feathers and meat in a pine tree. Then he walked into the river.

Easily, quietly, he floated along. Within a hundred paces he saw a hiding place, a dead cedar that had fallen into the river during the spring flood and now, at low water, was stranded on a sand bar.

He lay in the water, his eyes raised just over the trunk, his face hidden by branches. He could see fifty paces of trail with no obstructions, and he had glimpses of more than that. It was
very unlikely that anyone would see him. If his pursuer was watching with care, his eyes would go up the hill.

Zeya could see Su-Li, and that was essential. The spirit buzzard was making tight circles above the river. He hovered, facing Zeya, showing that he knew where his comrade was and was doing his part.

Now Su-Li straightened from his circle and wing-flapped straight down the riverbank. When he got to Zeya, he turned in a tight arc and flapped back up the river.

The signal from the first learning session.
An enemy on my trail
, Zeya said to himself. No surprise.
Now tell me where and how many
.