The Broken Land (37 page)

“Actually, I’m trying to find War Chief Hiyawento. The guards at Coldspring Village told me he was here. Have you seen him?”

The youth craned his neck, spied what he was looking for, and pointed. “His personal guards are standing over in front of the Wolf Clan house. He’s probably in council.”

Raloga smiled. “Thank you. Have an enjoyable night.”

He strode away with his dogs trailing behind him. Each time one growled at a village dog, he shouted stern words, and his dogs put their tails between their legs and fell into line again.

The guards standing at the southern end of the longhouse scowled at him as he approached. “A pleasant evening to you, brave warriors,” he greeted. “I am Raloga, and I carry an urgent message for War Chief Hiyawento.”

The tall woman sneered. Perhaps twenty-nine or thirty summers, she had short black hair and an oval face. “Who is the message from?”

Raloga wouldn’t dare say Sky Messenger’s name in this company. That would get him cut into tiny pieces and fed to the village dogs. “A man called Odion.”

The guards looked at each other and exchanged annoyed glances. The shorter man with a broken nose and scars the width of a man’s finger running across his right cheek, said, “I’ve never heard of him. Have you, Kallen?”

“No,” the woman replied in a bored voice.

“Nonetheless, the message I carry is extremely important.”

“Yes, yes,” Kallen said as though she’d been hearing similar claims all day. “Sit down over there, and when the war chief is available, I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“No, friend, you don’t understand,” Raloga pressed. “I must see him immediately.”

Kallen said, “
Sit down
before I crack your skull with my club.” She swung it to emphasize her point.

Raloga swallowed hard. “I have another solution. I will be perfectly content to give the message to you, his trusted guards, and have you relay it to him. That way, the responsibility for delivering it in a timely fashion rests with you.”

“Very well,” Kallen said, “what is the message?”

“Come closer. I don’t wish anyone to overhear it.”

Kallen bent down and let the ugly little Trader whisper the message in her ear. She straightened. “That doesn’t sound urgent to me.”

“Trust me, friend, the war chief will think it is.” Raloga bowed slightly, gave them an ingratiating smile, and trotted away with his dogs at his heels.

A
s Raloga hurried across the village, Kallen shook her head. “He’s an onerous character. I’ve never liked him.”

Gosha stared after the Trader. “What did he say?”

“Just that Odion, whoever that is, wishes to meet the war chief in the aspen meadow at midnight, and he’s traveling with a woman.”

Gosha adjusted his weapons belt, shifting it on his hips. “Should you interrupt the war chief? Midnight is fast approaching, and if the aspen grove at issue is the one just outside of Coldspring Village, it’s a hard run to get there in time.”

Kallen jerked an irritated nod. “Hiyawento said he did not wish to be disturbed. Matron Tila has never called a council meeting in her chamber before. Everyone important is there.”

“I know. If this is some sort of joke, I’d rather not be the one to pull the war chief out of the council.”

“Stop looking at me. I don’t want to do it,” Kallen exclaimed.

Gosha distastefully examined the celebration. Atotarho had attacked White Dog Village six days ago, and his people considered him a hero. The fact that his actions might split the Hills nation in two did not seem to worry him. The attack had stunned Hiyawento and the Coldspring Village council, and at least two other villages had been forced to put down riots over the outrage. Whispers of civil war were running rampant across Hills country.

Given the stakes, who knew what “a message from Odion,” might mean?

Kallen looked at the longhouse door curtain. Firelight glimmered around the edges, creating an enormous luminous square. Inside, she could hear Hiyawento’s deep measured voice making some point.

“All right.” Kallen straightened. “I’m going in. If he kills me, make sure my family finds my body.”

“He won’t dismember you. No one would allow it. You’re an honored deputy war chief.”

Gosha gave Kallen a confident nod, which slightly unnerved her. She took a deep breath, pulled back the curtain, and stepped into the firelit warmth of the longhouse. Forty fires burned down the length, lighting each family’s compartment and reflecting from the faces of the council members. Matron Tila sat on the bench in the back wrapped in so many hides she resembled a fat furry animal, except for her pain-stricken face. Matron Kelek of the Bear Clan sat to Tila’s left, apparently holding her up. The other council members—Hiyawento, Zateri, War Chief Sindak, Matron Ganon of Turtleback Village, and Matron Kwahseti of Riverbank Village—were seated on mats around the fire. Kwahseti’s war chief, Thona, stood just behind her with his war ax shining on his belt. Next to him stood Negano, the chief’s personal guard. The sight of Atotarho made Kallen’s bowels go watery. A beautiful black ritual cape, covered with circlets of bone cut from human skulls, covered his twisted, deformed body. Gray hair, braided with rattlesnake skins, haloed his bony face. When he gestured at Hiyawento’s wife, Zateri, his bracelets, made of human finger bones, rattled.

Atotarho said, “You seem to have forgotten you are my daughter. Have you lost all respect for the elders of this nation?”

Matron Zateri calmly stared him straight in the eyes. She was stately, but unattractive. Her face was too round, and her front teeth stuck out slightly, but she had a powerful presence. “I respect those who obey the will of the people, Father. You consulted no one before you and your village council decided to raid White Dog Village. It seems to me it is you who has shown disrespect. Did you think the other village councils would not care?”

Atotarho’s eyes narrowed in anger, but his voice came out with deadly softness. “I expected them to be grateful. The destruction of White Dog Village has demonstrated to the Ruling Council of the Standing Stone nation that we will not be toyed with. Perhaps in the future they will not take our threats so lightly.”

Hiyawento said, “They did not take our threat lightly, Chief. In fact, I’m sure from High Matron Kittle’s response that they are already preparing for our attack. If we were wise, I think we would try to arrange a meeting to discuss the situation before it gets out of hand.”

War Chief Sindak said, “I agree with Hiyawento. We are standing on a precipice. Any wrong move now and we will all fall into chaos. Many lives will be lost.”

Matron Kwahseti tucked gray hair behind her ear and let out a sigh. “I am also forced to agree with Hiyawento. We should all take a step back. My village council is outraged by the attack on White Dog Village, and we will not stand by and be drawn into this conflict. We—”

Matron Kelek’s raspy voice called, “You would take sides against your own people, Kwahseti? You would fight against your relatives? How many times have we sent our warriors to protect your village from Mountain war parties? Hmm? How many times?”

Matron Kwahseti lowered her eyes in shame. “Many times, Matron, but—”

“There are no
but
s. Either you are part of this alliance, or you are not. Choose.”

Zateri softly said, “None of us should be forced to choose, Matron Kelek. But you are right. That is where we stand, as War Chief Sindak says, ‘on a precipice.’ Before we all push each other over the edge, let us calm our voices, and …”

While Zateri continued talking, Kallen eased up behind Hiyawento and knelt. The war chief was a tall man with sharp eyes and a hooked nose. Black hair brushed the collar of his buckskin shirt.

Without looking at her, Hiyawento asked, “This had better be critical, Kallen.”

“A Trader came through. He said he had a message for you.”

“Yes?” He still didn’t look at her. His gaze moved back and forth between Zateri and the matrons, judging their expressions. “What is it?”

“Odion wishes to meet with you in the aspen meadow at midnight.”

Hiyawento seemed to stop breathing. His eyes widened. He leaned closer to Kallen. “What do you mean? He’s here?”

“Apparently.”

“Dear gods, is he alone?”

“No, the Trader said there’s a woman with him.”

“A woman! Why wasn’t I informed immediately! They need protection. Organize six guards and meet me at the aspen meadow. Hurry.”

Hiyawento scrambled to his feet and strode for the door curtain. Everyone in the meeting stopped to stare. Leaving without the consent of the elders was considered a grievous insult to the council. Atotarho leaned back and glowered at Hiyawento’s back. Matron Zateri just watched him, concerned.

Kallen apologized, “Forgive him. A minor emergency. He meant no disrespect.” She bowed to the council and swiftly backed outside into the cold night.

Thirty-seven

T
aya could not say what made the first sight of War Chief Hiyawento so impressive. He had no guards, no attendants, no extraordinary jewelry, none of the trappings of prestige and power; the man was not even armed. When he first glimpsed Taya and Sky Messenger in the forest, he stood alone, frozen, silent. A formidable man, tall, with a narrow beaked face and burning eyes, black hair blew around his shoulders. Dressed in a worn, knee-length buckskin shirt, he was dwarfed by the soaring height of the Coldspring Village palisade behind him. But if there had been hundreds of people assembled in this clearing, none of them would have had eyes for anything but this man. He was clearly a war chief to be reckoned with.

Sky Messenger’s words were like pebbles striking at the silence. “Wrass, it does my heart good to see you.”

The war chief strode forward and embraced Sky Messenger so hard his muscular arms shook. “Blessed gods, Odion, I have dreamed of this day a thousand times.”

They should have long ago given up their childhood names, and perhaps they had with every other person in the world, but it struck Taya as strangely intimate.

They continued to hold each other, their muscles bulging through their shirts, until the war chief pushed back. “I can’t believe you made it this far. Why are you alive?”

Taya noticed that Sky Messenger had tears in his eyes. “I know I’m placing you in danger, forgive me, but I had to see you.”

“What’s wrong?”

Sky Messenger extended a hand. “First, let me present Taya, granddaughter of High Matron Kittle. The woman to whom I am betrothed.”

Hiyawento’s mouth opened slightly, as though he didn’t know what to say.

Taya stepped forward, uncertain how to act; then her Grandmother’s training took over, and she extended her hand to the man who was the sworn enemy of her people. “I am honored to meet you, War Chief Hiyawento.”

He took her hand, and when he felt the slight tremor in her grip, he said, “You are here under my protection. Don’t be afraid.”

Warriors emerged from the trees, six of them, carrying nocked bows and quivers bristling with arrows on their backs. Hiyawento instructed, “Fan out. I don’t want anyone to get close enough to see my guests.”

The warriors ghosted away into the shadows, and though she knew they had to be close, she could not see them.

Sky Messenger and Hiyawento walked into the small clearing in the middle of the aspen grove and sat down on the fallen log. Taya trailed behind them. It was very late, and she was exhausted from running all day. Despite Hiyawento’s guarantee of safety, they were Hills People. They couldn’t be trusted. She kept glancing around, trying to see if anyone was sneaking up on them.

Hiyawento and Sky Messenger just stared at each other for a time, smiling, as though memorizing the other’s face.

Hiyawento finally said, “I returned from Bur Oak Village just last night. Were you aware of that?”

“No. Why were you there?”

“I delivered a message from our Ruling Council. Basically it was a threat to destroy the entire Standing Stone nation if it ever attempted to establish an alliance with a Hills village again. You can guess how High Matron Kittle responded.”

Sky Messenger nodded, but before he spoke, Taya said, “She must have shouted and threatened back. Believe me, she meant every word.”

“I did believe it,” Hiyawento said.

Sky Messenger propped a fist in his lap. “Mother will try to ease the situation.”

“Yes, Speaker Koracoo is a peacemaker at heart, but I’m not sure she can. We have a tidal wave of rage building here. I fear this next battle is going to be long and bloody. You heard the news?”

Sky Messenger’s forehead wrinkled. “No. We’ve been on the trail. What news?”

“Blessed Spirits, I thought that’s why you’d come.”

Hiyawento leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Six days ago Chief Atotarho, without consulting any of the other village councils, decided to attack White Dog Village. He—”

“Yes.” The rush of air behind the word made it sound like a gasp. “I know. We passed by it on the way here. How is the Hills nation reacting?”

Hiyawento hesitated. “Aren’t you concerned about your father? I heard Gonda and his wife escaped, along with most of the elders.”