People of the Morning Star (50 page)

Forty-five

A half-throttled shriek brought Fire Cat fully awake. He’d dropped down to sit propped in Night Shadow Star’s doorway, a position where no one could pass. That he had fallen asleep was a sign of how weary he’d become.

Now he winced as he raised himself, seeing slanting daylight from a high sun through the gaps in the door. The household staff was huddled in a far corner, doing something on the matting. Gambling with gaming pieces, he realized. And probably hoping all the while that their lady had fallen into an endless slumber and would never come back to order them around.

A croaking sound reminded him of what had brought him awake. He winced and stood as his cramped and stiff muscles complained. The armor had bitten into his flesh, and now prickled where blood flowed.

He stepped into her room, peering down in the gloom. She lay curled on the floor before the altar. He’d thrown a blanket over her in the night, but it lay twisted into a knot at one side.

The choking sound was barely audible now. Her mouth was open, lungs sucking desperately for air she couldn’t find.

Bending down he lifted her limp head, seeing her eyes rolled back behind slitted lids. Her frantic mouth struggled for air.

“Lady? Wake up. You’re not breathing.”

Her lungs continued to heave. He pulled her long hair back, ensuring that nothing was tied around her throat.

“Night Shadow Star! Wake up.” He shifted her onto his lap, patting the soft curve of her cheek. Her entire body now jerked in the battle for breath. But what on earth was restricting her airway?

“I said,
wake up!
” He slapped her hard enough to send a tremor through her.

At the sound of voices behind him, he turned, seeing the wide-eyed household staff.

“Green Stick! Go! Fetch Rides-the-Lightning. Get him here! But by the souls in your body, do it with discretion. I don’t want half the city running here to gawk and gossip. Do you understand me?”

The man nodded, stopped short, and cocked his head. “Who are
you
to order me around? You’re nothing but a slave yourself.”

Like a striking copperhead, Fire Cat shifted Night Shadow Star from his lap, leaped, and clamped a hard hand around Green Stick’s throat. As the man clawed to get free, Fire Cat lifted him until he perched on tiptoes. Glaring into the slave’s frightened eyes, Fire Cat said through gritted teeth, “When I give you an order, you piece of two-legged shit, you obey. Now, get your limp and dragging self to Rides-the-Lightning, and get him here without alerting half the town. If she dies in the meantime, I’ll cut you apart to feed the crows!”

With that he turned the man loose, and bent back to Night Shadow Star. The woman’s gasping attempts to breathe were weakening; her eyes quivered in panic behind twitching lids. The way her mouth opened and closed reminded him of a dying fish.

“What are you going to do?” one of the slave women asked.

“Save her … I hope.” But how?

He hesitated, uneasy at laying hands on her naked body, then placed both of his palms on her breast bone and pushed down.

A gurgling came from deep in her throat, but nothing seemed to dislodge. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart as it hammered her rib cage.

“Come on, Lady. If you die on me, who will I have to hate?”

Growing frantic, he gave up pressing on her chest, shifted, and dragged her by the head onto his lap. Supporting the back of her neck with one hand, he pinched her nose shut, made a face, and took a deep breath.

Covering her mouth with his, he exhaled with all his might. Something gave, her chest expanding. He pulled his head back, feeling her purling breath as she slowly exhaled and coughed. Her next breath was shallow, and rasped in her throat, but she was breathing.

Sighing relief, he laid her back on the floor, crouching so he could press down on her breastbone each time she exhaled. If he could just get the old air out of her, keep her breathing, at least she’d have a body for her souls to return to.

The frantic beat of her heart began to slow from a panicked race to normal.

“Well, at least now I know you’ve got a heart, black and wicked though it might be.” He gave her a relieved smile.

He turned, ordering, “Someone, bring me water. A bottle-necked gourd will do.”

Moments later young Winter Leaf cautiously stepped in to hand him a gourd. “You didn’t mean that, did you? What you said to Green Stick?”

He glanced at her, at the rest of them, watching him like half-panicked field mice. “I meant it. When I give an order, you jump.”

“I’m the Lady’s cousin,” the man called Clay String remarked haughtily. “I’m Four Winds Clan, slave. You try and order me around, and I’ll have you in a square.”

Fire Cat made a final check of Night Shadow Star, satisfied that she was still breathing normally. Then he rose and advanced on Clay String, who backed away unsteadily.

“You know what I think of the Four Winds Clan, you worthless excuse for a man?”

Clay String shook his head, still backing away, trying to keep his expression stern and commanding.

“I think they’re trash, you gutless fish. And you can tell them so, because I’ve got nothing left to live for. That being the case, I will not grovel before you,
free
man. Or before any other Four Winds maggot.” He thrust a hard finger toward Night Shadow Star’s room. “But I gave my word to serve the Lady. So, serve her I will, and to the best of my ability. If it means breaking a couple of your worthless heads in the process, then by the bleeding stars, I will do so. And you, you wiggling little maggot, will accept it and like it.”

Clay String’s feigned resistance collapsed like a punctured bladder. His hands rose defensively. “Don’t hurt me. I was just … I was…”

Fire Cat looked around at the rest. “Since Field Green was murdered, this place has started to look more like a weasel’s den than the Lady’s palace. Within the next hand of time, I want it straightened up, the bedding folded, the ashes taken out, the matting swept, and the dishes cleaned. I can smell that brimming chamber pot clear across the room.

“Meanwhile, I want a feast ready for when the Lady returns from her Spirit journey. Not that half-burned corn gruel you’ve got on the coals, but real food. And a pot will be kept boiling for black drink when she comes to.” He paused, smiling grimly. “You’ve got a hand of time, get to it.”

Then he walked back to ensure that Night Shadow Star hadn’t relapsed. Behind him the room was bustling with activity.

Kneeling, he placed a finger on her smooth neck, feeling her pulse, weak, but there.

In a gentle voice he told her, “So there it is,
Lady.
I probably created a miserable mess for myself with your household staff, but they really need to be slapped into shape. If you want to save me any more such trouble, you’d better get back here so you can keep me in line, or I’ll have half the Four Winds Clan trying to cut my throat.” He paused, studying her vulnerable and slack face. “You wouldn’t want that, now would you? You did want to save that privilege for yourself, didn’t you?”

No change of expression darkened her smooth brow, so he sighed, patted her on the cheek, and lifted her naked body onto the bed where he should have put her in the first place. Then he settled himself beside her and studied the alluring charms of her round breasts. Her brown nipples seemed to tease him with their demand for attention. The swell of her hips and flat abdomen accented the dark shadow of her navel. He struggled to ignore the promise of what lay hidden beneath the thick black triangle of pubic hair.

“Power mocks me, Lady. I’d worship that body if it belonged to anyone but you.” He shook his head to rid it of unwanted images and desires, and then carefully arranged a blanket to cover her. He gently tucked her in. Drawing his bow across his lap he fitted an arrow into place.

In addition to the assassin, he wouldn’t put it past Green Stick or Clay String to sneak up behind him and bash his brains out.

“Good thing we dislike each other so much, Lady. I’d never put up with this nonsense if you were just someone I only mildly despised.”

Forty-six

Seven Skull Shield entered through the Council House door and looked around. Stepping to the side, he crossed his arms and placed his back to the wall. He dabbed at his sore forehead, discolored from the bruises it had suffered while banging the Tula’s face into pulp, and he’d strained a couple of muscles during the fight, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

Blue Heron sat on the raised dais beside
Tonka’tzi
Wind. The spoiled niece, Sun Wing, looked sullen where she sat on her floor-level litter to the right. Perhaps she appeared so petulant because—though another rival for the
Tonka’tzi
’s chair had conveniently vanished—the Keeper now occupied the spot she might have claimed for the first time in her short life.

Four Winds warriors, resplendent in waxed wooden armor, their shields at rest before them and war clubs at hand, lined the walls. The usual messengers and recorders were missing.

Tension, like a gut-string pulled too tight, vibrated in the room.

“Thief?” Blue Heron called as she looked up and recognized him. “Come forward.”

He glanced sidelong at the warriors who were staring at him with hard eyes. Approaching the dais, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head just short of the matting. He did, after all, have a bruise to coddle. “You’ve really got to find a better way to address me at these things.”

“And I suppose you’d have me call a fish a bird?” she asked caustically. “You are what you are.”

He supposed it could be worse. She could have called him “tow rope,” which he’d be hearing for the rest of his life.

She asked, “Why didn’t you fetch Lady Night Shadow Star as I requested?”

Seven Skull Shield lifted his head, staring up at first the Keeper and then the
Tonka’tzi.
In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I was able, at least, to get in to see her. The Red Wing guards her well; he kept an arrow nocked the entire time I was there. Also present is the Earth Clans healer, Rides-the-Lightning.” He could see them both pale as he added, “She’s Spirit flying, sent her souls into the Underworld, according to the Red Wing.”

Tonka’tzi
Wind closed her eyes, looking both anxious and defeated at the same time.

“She doesn’t know about her sister, then?” Blue Heron asked.

“Not from any source in this world. Though I did, however, shoo away the slaves and staff and inform the Red Wing.”

“What possessed you to disclose information like that to a slave?” the
Tonka’tzi
asked.

He met her now glowering eyes. “With all respect,
Tonka’tzi,
half the city is abuzz. Armed squadrons now guard all the Four Winds palaces around the Grand Plaza. Lace’s palace is the second Four Winds palace to burn in days. And warriors are searching the surroundings like ants through a garden. No one gets up or down the steps on the Morning Star’s mound. Nor has the Morning Star been playing chunkey for the last few days … and the excuse that he’s ‘praying for the people’ is about as thin as last week’s rabbit stew. Maybe the Tula was right and this Two-Footed Smoke sorcerer can walk through walls, but the Red Wing, no matter what his other faults, has kept your daughter alive so far. And, it appears, he’s rotted well determined to do it again. Maybe Piasa really did tell her to keep him close. Maybe it was one of her voices speaking from some bent need down in her souls. The girl’s not quite right, we’ve all figured that out, yes? But the Red Wing’s not going to let harm come to your niece.”

“Watch your mouth, thief,” the
Tonka’tzi
said coldly.

“It’s all right,” Blue Heron murmured. “To my discomfort and dismay I’ve actually come to appreciate someone who tells it straight.”

Sun Wing whispered hotly, “And how will the Red Wing tell her about Lace when she finally comes back to her body? This is her sister, after all. Done incorrectly, it might shock her into some unwise action.”

“No trace of where she vanished to, huh?” Seven Skull Shield asked.

“Not through the usual sources.” Blue Heron narrowed an eye at him. “What did you hear from that weasel, Black Swallow?”

“That he received the shell carving you sent. I can repeat the fawning drivel he spewed to express his appreciation if you really want to hear it. But he’s got the word out. And with the right parties.”

“You’ve entrusted this to thieves and human garbage?” the
Tonka’tzi
gritted through her teeth, dismayed eyes on her sister.

Again Blue Heron lifted her hand, stilling the outburst.

Seven Skull Shield interjected, “If she’s in the city, great
Tonka’tzi,
my ‘thieves and human garbage’ will find her within the next two days.” He lightly touched his forehead, bowed his bruised forehead to the cane matting, and then backed away.

He could see the simmering anger in Sun Wing’s eyes, and wondered what had kept her from using the opportunity to let her mouth overload any balance of spoiled sense she might have. The look she was giving him would have melted a siltstone ax head.