Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear
It Dreams in Me (12 page)
“SHE’S HERE, HIGH MATRON,” CLEARWING SAID. HIS SQUARE face and a patch of his red warshirt were all that showed in the gap in her door curtain.
“Good. Escort her in.”
Wink smoothed her hands over her hair. Black and gray strands had come loose from her braid and glued themselves to her cheeks. As she looked down, she noticed that her yellow dress had a thousand wrinkles, but she had no time to change. She rarely met with anyone in her personal chamber; perhaps that alone would be enough to convince Tern this was no ordinary meeting.
She heard the steps coming down the corridor outside and glanced around the chamber, which was ten paces long by twelve wide. The white plastered walls bore magnificent paintings of the gods. To her left, Mother Sun’s golden hair streamed out from her face in flaming spirals. To her right, Comet People streaked earthward with their long blue-white wings tucked behind them. She cast a glance over her shoulder. Right behind
her, there was a glorious stylized image of Black Falcon diving into Mother Sun’s heart. The dazzling red, purple, and yellow colors looked liquid and shiny. Four sitting mats were arranged around the fire hearth.
her, there was a glorious stylized image of Black Falcon diving into Mother Sun’s heart. The dazzling red, purple, and yellow colors looked liquid and shiny. Four sitting mats were arranged around the fire hearth.
“High Matron?” Clearwing said. “Tern, daughter of Elder Bittern, is here, as you requested.”
Requested? I ordered her here. She must be seething.
“Please show her in, Clearwing.”
Clearwing held aside the door curtain, and Tern entered her personal chamber like one of the Hero Twins preparing to do battle with the monsters of the Beginning Time. She had her pointed chin up and her teeth clenched. Tall and slender, with large dark eyes and a small nose, she had a regal bearing about her—which was good. She was going to need it. Though she had seen only twenty-nine winters, silver already glittered in her short black braid. She’d worn an elegant dress, deep blue, covered with circlets of abalone shell.
Tern stiffly asked, “What do you want?”
Wink did not invite her to sit down. She answered, “It’s time that you and I discussed the future of the Black Falcon Nation, Tern. You—”
“Then you should be speaking with Matron Sea Grass, not me.”
Hmm. She’s bold. In lesser nations, interrupting the high matron could result in the speaker’s death.
Wink quietly walked to the bench that lined the wall and picked up the high matron’s celt. A ceremonial war club made from red chert, it was long and heavy, stretching from her elbow to her fingertips. The extraordinarily fine flaking gave it a wild crimson shimmer. Reserved only for the elite rulers of the Black Falcon Nation, it was a symbol of the supreme ruler.
With her back to Tern, she said, “Chief Pocket Mouse is in a
vulnerable position. Your matron, Sea Grass, has been sending him on more and more war walks. Why do you think that is?”
vulnerable position. Your matron, Sea Grass, has been sending him on more and more war walks. Why do you think that is?”
“My brother is a great leader. He’s very valuable to our clan.” Her voice was clipped, each word enunciated perfectly.
“Yes, I’m sure he is, but if he were to die in battle, it would leave you in an awkward position.” Wink turned to look at her. “Just as my son’s death would leave me in an awkward position.”
Tern’s face showed her confusion. Her delicate brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
Whispers sounded in the corridor—Clearwing speaking with someone.
Tern glanced uneasily at the door.
Carrying her celt, Wink walked to the door, pulled aside the curtain, and called, “Clearwing, please go stand guard at the front entrance.”
“Yes, High Matron.” He slapped the young warrior he’d been speaking with on the shoulder, and they strode away down the corridor.
Wink waited until their footsteps had faded before she said, “The actions of your clan elders are endangering our nation, Tern. Surely you are wise enough to see that. You must start thinking about the future. As I am.”
Tern seemed to sense the crescendo coming. Her jaw tightened. “Why don’t you just tell me why I’m here in your personal chamber, High Matron. This would be a good deal easier if we both knew what we were really discussing.”
Wink gave her a small smile. “Yes, I feel the same way.”
At last, she gestured to the mats arranged around the fire. “Sit down, Tern. I suspect this will be a lengthy discussion.”
Tern hesitated, then walked over and sat on one of the mats with her back rigid.
Wink slowly ambled across the room. As she passed Tern, she extended the ceremonial celt, holding it out for Tern to take.
Surprised, Tern instinctively pulled away.
Wink knelt beside her, picked up Tern’s hand, and put the sacred celt in her palm. As she closed Tern’s fingers around it, she said, “Perhaps it’s time you got used to holding this.”
“MATRON?” CLEARWING’S HUSHED VOICE WOKE HER.
Wink leaped out of bed and grabbed for her black dress. It had to be just a few hands after nightfall. Breathlessly, she said, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Matron Sea Grass and three Water Hickory elders are standing at the front door with twenty warriors. They demand to see you this instant.”
Wink slipped her dress over her head and ran a comb through her graying black hair. As she hurried for her bedchamber door, she hastily smoothed the wrinkles from her sleeves.
Shouts echoed outside, rising in timbre until they resembled war cries.
Wink ducked into the torchlit corridor and found Clearwing standing outside her bedchamber with his war club gripped in both hands, prepared for the worst.
“Are you afraid they will storm my house?”
“Matron Sea Grass is very agitated. I’m not sure we can predict what she will do.”
Wink strode down the corridor for the council chamber with Clearwing right behind her. When she pulled back the curtain to the chamber, she quietly said, “Have someone wake Feather Dancer.”
“What about Chief Long Fin and the other elders?”
“No. But after you escort Sea Grass—and only Sea Grass—into the council chamber, I want you to surround this house with one hundred of Rockfish’s warriors. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Matron. Right away.”
Clearwing marched to the two warriors standing just inside the front door and began issuing quiet but firm orders. Outside, the cacophony of shouts turned into what sounded like a brawl. Clearwing ducked outside, shouted several names, and the scuffling halted.
Wink entered the council chamber and swiftly walked to the fire hearth. A pile of wood rested nearby. She picked up a piece of firewood and placed it on the hot coals. As tiny tongues of flame licked up around the fresh tinder, she added more wood. She was going to need all the light and warmth she could get.
“What are you talking about, you young fool?”
Sea Grass said from the corridor.
“These are my personal guards. I go nowhere without them. You will let them accompany me!”
Sea Grass said from the corridor.
“These are my personal guards. I go nowhere without them. You will let them accompany me!”
Clearwing said, “Forgive me, Matron, but my instructions from High Matron Wink are very precise. You—and you alone—are authorized to meet with her tonight.”
“That’s outrageous! The last Water Hickory Clan matron who met with Wink alone was found mysteriously murdered! I will not be her next victim!”
Apologetically, Clearwing said, “My orders stand, Matron. Either enter alone, or go back to your—”
“Oh, get out of my way!”
Wink heard the old woman’s walking stick banging down
the corridor. In short order, Sea Grass ducked beneath the curtain with her wrinkled face pinched and her nostrils flaring. “What are you up to, Wink? I was just informed that a large party of Shadow Rock warriors left Blackbird Town just after dark. Where are they going?”
the corridor. In short order, Sea Grass ducked beneath the curtain with her wrinkled face pinched and her nostrils flaring. “What are you up to, Wink? I was just informed that a large party of Shadow Rock warriors left Blackbird Town just after dark. Where are they going?”
Wink gestured to the four benches that framed the fire hearth. “Sit down and we’ll talk about it.”
Sea Grass glared, but hobbled forward and slumped onto a bench with her walking stick propped across her lap. Her white hair straggled around her face like frost-killed weeds. Beneath her beaded buckskin cape, she wore only a thin gray dress.
In a hateful voice, Sea Grass said, “I want to know
now
!”
now
!”
Wink sat on the bench across the fire. For several instants she did not even look at Sea Grass; then, finally she said, “You didn’t trust Sora to negotiate for you, did you? You sent your own negotiator, Walking Bird. How did you get Sora out of the way for those five days?”
Sea Grass’ enraged eyes widened in shock for a split instant before she snarled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Did you drop a Spirit Plant into Sora’s tea? Perhaps her dinner?”
Sea Grass clamped her jaw, but a strange glitter had entered her eyes.
Wink continued, “Walking Bird apparently told Chief Blue Bow that I, personally, had authorized him to negotiate the release of the hostages. Was that your idea? Or your dead predecessor Matron Wood Fern’s?”
It never hurt to remind your opponent of the price of treason.
Sea Grass leaned forward. “You’re taking grave risks, Wink. My spies will report back on where your warriors go and whom they see. You don’t want to do this. Believe me. It will be your doom.”
Wink smiled grimly at the death threat. “I’m prepared for that. Are you?”
Sea Grass shouted, “You have no idea what I—!”
Wink rose and walked for door. Just before she ducked out she called, “Keep your warriors at home, Sea Grass.”
She’d made it halfway back to her bedchamber before she heard Feather Dancer’s voice and turned to see him striding down the corridor.
He bowed. “Matron. You sent for me.”
She watched Sea Grass duck out of the council chamber, look down the hall to glare at the two of them, then head for the front entry. For a brief instant, Wink looked into the eyes of the other Water Hickory elders: Thrush, Bittern, and Moorhen. They were all old white-haired women with hateful faces. When Sea Grass exited, their questioning voices rose to shouts.
Wink whispered, “Raider made it away safely?”
“Yes. He was surprised that Chief Long Fin was leading the war party, but very honored and grateful. It added to your credibility. Especially since he is your son.”
Wink let out a breath and sank back against the wall. The anxiety of the long day seemed to overpower her at once. She yearned to sleep. “Sea Grass can’t mount a party quickly enough to catch them, can she?”
“Unlikely. We have a good head start.”
She put a hand on Feather Dancer’s shoulder, a thing she had never done, and said, “Thank you, War Chief. Now get some sleep. We are both going to need it. This is just the beginning.”
SEETHING WITH INDIGNATION, SEA GRASS ROAMED HER house swinging her walking stick at anything that didn’t move. Shattered pots and overturned baskets lay everywhere, their contents spilled across the floor.
She aimed her walking stick at Chief Pocket Mouse and stabbed him in the shoulder. “If Wink thinks she can bully me, she has a surprise coming!” Sea Grass shouted. “I want you on the trail immediately!”
“Yes, Matron, but …” Pocket Mouse had his brown eyes squinted against the emotion in her voice, and it made his flat nose look broader, as though it covered half his face. He’d seen twenty-seven winters, but already lines etched his forehead. “Are we trying to start a civil war?”
“Do you dare to question my orders?” she shouted, her voice rising to a squeal. “These are the orders of your clan elders, not just mine!”
“I—I did not mean to offend, Matron! Forgive me. How many warriors do you wish me to take?”
“As many as you need to wipe out the entire Shadow Rock war party.”
Pocket Mouse mopped his sweaty brow with his red sleeve. “Matron, I’m not sure that’s possible. Even if I took all two hundred—”
“I want them dead! I don’t care how many warriors it requires, do it!”
Sea Grass hobbled over to glower up into his face. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man. She had to tip her head far back to see his eyes. In a low, threatening voice, she said, “I don’t know where her warriors are headed, but it’s your job to make sure they do not arrive.”
“But, Matron, what about Fan Palm Village? I thought that was our prior—”
“After you’ve killed the Shadow Rock warriors, destroy it. Just as we planned. Now get out of my sight!” She waved her walking stick to accent her words.
Pocket Mouse deftly dodged the stick, then backed away and hurried from the chamber. As he left her house, she heard him calling orders to his warriors.
Shaking with rage, she hobbled over to her sleeping bench and slumped atop her blankets. “Wink has no idea what I’m capable of. Perhaps it’s finally time to order my assassin back to Blackbird Town.”
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