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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

The Broken Land (23 page)

BOOK: The Broken Land
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Twenty-three

A
s Sky Messenger stowed the last packs in the canoe, sleet began falling, creating a staccato among the tree branches and drumming on Taya’s hood. She morosely folded her arms beneath her cape and let her gaze drift over the faces of the people who had come to see them off on their journey. Grandmother stood beside Speaker Koracoo, talking quietly. Around them, elders from both villages had gathered. In the distance, more people stood watching from just outside the dark palisades of Yellowtail Village and Bur Oak Village. Everyone had already said good-bye and wished them well, then had returned to their village.

They weren’t even gone, and Taya was fiercely homesick. She didn’t understand why she was being forced to leave her home with a man she barely knew, and travel into enemy country on a mission she did not understand. It was foolish! She had objected heartily when Grandmother ordered her to go, but to no avail. Even worse, as they’d packed and prepared to leave, she had, several times, caught Sky Messenger staring at her with a look of stunned surprise, as though he’d briefly forgotten she was going, and couldn’t figure out why she was packing.

Angry tears swelled her throat. She had never imagined her marriage would begin this way. Through blurry eyes, she stared at the birds hopping from cattail to cattail in the marsh. Every instant she was not inside her safe, warm longhouse, her fear increased. Would they see war parties? Would they be chased? Her betrothed refused to carry weapons. How would he defend her? What if she was captured by enemy warriors? All the horrifying images ever stirred by stories of rape, torture, and murder crowded her thoughts.

Sky Messenger straightened up. “Are you ready, Taya?”

She turned and blinked owlishly at him. He’d tied his black hair back with a cord. It made his dark eyes seem larger and more deeply set. Almost menacing. “No. But I don’t have any choice, do I?”

“I don’t like this any more than you do. Let’s just make the best of it.” He gestured to the canoe.

Taya turned to look back one last time. She longed to run as hard as she could to Bur Oak Village. Her heart seemed about to burst.

Grandmother frowned at Taya, broke away from the crowd, and walked over. Her beautiful face seemed the embodiment of malice and evil. “You are about to embark upon a Spirit journey. Few people ever have such an opportunity to distinguish themselves. You should be going.”

“But, Grandmother—” Taya started object.

“Get in the canoe,” Grandmother sternly ordered, and pointed to the boat.

Grudgingly, Taya climbed in and flopped to the bottom of the canoe, rattling the oars.

Sky Messenger respectfully dipped his head to Grandmother and said, “I’ll take care of her, High Matron.”

As Sky Messenger shoved the canoe into the river and leaped inside, Grandmother called, “She needs to learn to take care of herself! Did you hear me, Taya?”

A smoldering mixture of anger and embarrassment stung Taya’s veins. Sky Messenger picked up his paddle and began guiding them out into the current.

When they hit the full force of the stream, the canoe jostled violently.

Sky Messenger looked over his shoulder and, as though taken aback, called, “Taya, you must help me paddle.”

She grabbed her oar and violently stabbed it into the water.

Sky Messenger’s brow furrowed. “Don’t chop at the water. Dip and pull. It’s a smooth motion. Has no one ever taught you how to use an oar?”

She shouted back at him, “Leave me alone! I’m rowing the best I can!”

The canoe plunged into a series of rough waves, and Sky Messenger instantly slid back to the middle of the canoe. To keep from being overturned, he was rowing as though he were the only occupant of the canoe.

If that’s the way he wanted it, that was fine with her! Taya threw her oar onto the packs and folded her arms, glaring at his broad back. If it weren’t for him and his foul Dream, she wouldn’t be here.

When the river swept them downstream and she lost sight of the villages, a new emotion rose. It was like a hungry wolf chewing on her bones. She had no idea what dangers lay ahead. Every nerve in her body cried out for her to jump overboard and swim for home.

Grandmother will just drag me to another canoe and order some warrior to return me to Sky Messenger.

The angry sobs started deep down in her chest. She kept the sounds locked behind her gritted teeth and watched the trees pass.

Twenty-four

T
he scent of hickory dinner fires was strong, carried on the cold breeze that eddied through Yellowtail Village. Snow had been falling all day, but now, as dusk approached, it had slowed to a few flakes. The three longhouses inside the triple palisade appeared to be coated with pearl dust.

Koracoo gripped CorpseEye in her right fist and strode past the Turtle Clan longhouse toward the inner palisade gate. War Chief Deru strode beside her, his red cape flaring with each long step. When anyone came forward, as though to stop and speak with them, Deru’s crushed face went hard, and they backed away, understanding that this was not a time for casual conversation.

“Who else knows he’s here?” Koracoo asked softly.

“Just my son and I. He was very smart. He waited until he saw Heswe leave the village and walk down to the river. He approached Heswe while he was filling pots with water. My son brought me the message that Hiyawento wished to meet with you in private outside the village.”

“Good. Tutelo is with Matron Jigonsaseh. Please have her meet me in the chestnut grove. Don’t tell her why. As soon as I know his mission, I’ll call for you. Is that agreeable?”

“Ordinarily I would insist that guards accompany you, Speaker, but I’ll make an exception in your case. I warred with you long enough to know that if it comes to a fight, Hiyawento is in far more trouble than you are. However, I will be watching you from the catwalk with my bow nocked.”

“That is acceptable, but just you, Deru. I don’t want the word getting round.”

“Understood.”

As she approached, the guards shoved open the inner gate. There were gates at each of the three palisades. As she walked through the first, the locking planks clunked into position behind her—standard procedure these dangerous days, when leaving anything to chance might get your family killed. She marched through the second gate, and finally, at the third palisade, the men checked the trails outside before opening the gate, then slammed it closed behind her.

As she turned left and hurried down the narrow trail that ran along the palisade, Wind Mother flipped her short, graying-black hair around her face. She followed the trail out to the chestnut grove. The giant trees, almost leafless now, sheltered a small boulder-filled meadow. As she neared the meadow, she saw a tall man seated upon a rock with a white painted arrow. He kept fidgeting with the arrow. He’d grown up. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man now, but his eagle-like face was mostly the same.

She slowed to a walk, and just before she entered the clearing, she called, “I don’t know how you managed to get this close to Yellowtail Village without our scouts seeing you. I’ll have to speak with War Chief Deru about that.”

A smile warmed Hiyawento’s lean face. He’d tied his shoulder-length black hair back with a cord, and the style made his beaked nose seem longer. As he rose, his buckskin cape, painted with gray images of running wolves, fell into soft folds around him. He placed the arrow on the rock and lifted his empty hands, showing her he had no weapons. “It’s Speaker Koracoo now, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Koracoo walked directly to him and spread her feet two paces away.

He smiled. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You were very foolish to come here, but it gladdens my heart to see you, as well. Is everything all right in Coldspring Village?”

He lowered his hands and propped them on his hips. His brow lined. “As well as it can be, given the insane world we live in.”

“Tell me quickly why you’re here.”

Through a long exhalation, he said, “I bear a message for High Matron Kittle from the Ruling Council of the Hills nation.”

Koracoo cocked her head, curious. “But you came to me first, why?”

He made a helpless gesture with one hand. “Zateri thought it was far more likely that you’d let me live long enough to deliver my message.”

Koracoo nodded. “Your wife is wise. How is she? And your daughters? You have three, yes?”

Joy lit his face. “Yes, three. They are all well. My oldest, Kahn-Tineta, has seen eight summers now.”

“The fever has not reached the Hills nation?”

“Despite what you may have heard, it has. Riverbank Village has been suffering greatly, but the evil Spirits have not entered our other villages. So far.”

Koracoo’s voice came out low and demanding. It was an order. “What is the message you carry.”

He hesitated. He undoubtedly had specific instructions to relay it only to High Matron Kittle. Koracoo assessed his expression, waiting. A test of trust. Would he tell her or not?

Their gazes held.

Finally, he said, “The Ruling Council of the Hills nation would like to know if the Ruling Council of the Standing Stone People is prepared to have all of its villages destroyed? As Sedge Marsh Village was.”

Koracoo laughed softly. “A threat? They’re warning us not to attempt to make alliances with any more Hills villages.”

“Yes. Sedge Marsh was destroyed because the council ruled that their alliance with you was treason.”

As the breeze swayed the forest, clumps of snow shook loose from the chestnut branches and thumped the ground around them.

Koracoo said, “They were hungry, Hiyawento. They were on the very edge of your country, vulnerable to attacks from the Flint nation. They came to us for help after your own high matron refused to help them. We could not turn our backs on starving people, even if they were not of our nation.”

Wind rustled the chestnuts, and old leaves twirled down around them. Several briefly alighted on the shoulders of his cape before continuing their journey to Great Grandmother Earth.

Hiyawento’s brows drew together. “How do you think High Matron Kittle will respond to the message?”

“Well, to start with, she’ll shout at you, and call threats back. After you leave, she’ll start preparing our villages for a siege. By the time your war parties arrive, we’ll have enough arrows, spears, clubs, and water stored in the villages to hold out for moons.” While confidence filled her voice, she knew the words were not true. They’d be lucky to hold out for several days. “Tell High Matron Tila that we may fall in the end, but not before she’s lost many fine young men and women to our arrows.”

“That is not the message our Ruling Council is hoping for.”

“No? They want us to say that we will never again try to form an alliance with a Hills village? We won’t say it. We can’t. You know as well as I do that every nation is in trouble. I fear the only way any of us will survive is if we agree to band together and share what we have.”

Hiyawento’s lean face slackened. In his dark eyes, she saw memories passing. “You’ve always been a peacemaker, Koracoo. I respect that, but I doubt our Ruling Council—”

“I doubt it, too,” she interrupted. “We have all been reduced to acting like ravening wolves. We shred each other over scraps.” In the distance, geese honked as they winged southward. She listened to the lonely sounds before she continued, “Hiyawento, there is a great darkness coming. Tell your people that Elder Brother Sun is going to turn his back on Great Grandmother Earth and flee, leaving us in darkness, unless we find a way to end this war.”

Hiyawento slowly lifted his head. A somber expression creased his face. “I heard about his vision from a passing Trader named Tsani—though I’m sure many elements had been embellished. Is Sky Messenger well?”

“Well enough.”

“Then Matron Kittle lifted her death sentence?”

Koracoo was only mildly surprised that he’d been keeping such close track of Sky Messenger’s life. She knew they had not seen each other in five summers. “Even Kittle realizes that his vision is strong, and we dare not ignore it. Yes, she lifted the sentence.”

“Is he here, Speaker?” Warmth and longing touched the words. “I would see him, if possible?”

“He’s not here. He left four days ago on a journey to the Dawnland country. He had a fast canoe. He should return in ten days or so. Now, tell me what the Traders are saying about Sky Messenger’s vision, and more importantly, how you know many elements have been embellished?”

“I …” He shifted his weight to his opposite foot. “Speaker, your son and I have had a pact since we were boys. I do not repeat the things he tells me. Not even to his mother. But the Traders are saying that Sky Messenger has foreseen the end of the world. They say Elder Brother Sun will burn to a blackened husk and his ashes will fall from the sky.”

She waited to see if he’d tell her which parts he knew were embellished, but he did not.

She said, “If you do not object, War Chief, I’d like to speak with Kittle first, to prepare her for your arrival. You are traveling under a white arrow, but she’s unpredictable. I’d like to be able to send you back to Zateri with your head still upon your shoulders.”

BOOK: The Broken Land
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