People of the Weeping Eye (North America's Forgotten Past) (56 page)
Read People of the Weeping Eye (North America's Forgotten Past) Online
Authors: W. Michael Gear,Kathleen O'Neal Gear
BOOK: People of the Weeping Eye (North America's Forgotten Past)
6.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
That’ll show you just how good I am!
Morning Dew grunted at the impact, stumbled sideways, and saw the ball zipping ahead of her. In three steps she had recovered her stride. Breath coming in great gulps, she raced for the ball, scooped it up, and heard the second woman’s bare feet hammering the ground.
Too fresh, she’ll catch me.
Instinct took over; the racquet went back. With all her might, Morning Dew launched the ball overhand, tripping from the exertion, falling. She hit the ground hard—impact drove the breath from her lungs. Her pursuer tried to jump, snagged one of her legs, and hammered the ground beside her with a sodden thump.
Instinct took over; the racquet went back. With all her might, Morning Dew launched the ball overhand, tripping from the exertion, falling. She hit the ground hard—impact drove the breath from her lungs. Her pursuer tried to jump, snagged one of her legs, and hammered the ground beside her with a sodden thump.
Morning Dew sprawled on her stomach, stunned, sparkles of yellow flickering before her eyes. She felt herself falling, unable to suck breath. A gray twilight hovered at the edge of her vision, and a loud ringing filled her ears. When she could finally draw breath, it was shallow, and the pain came welling up from her body.
Shuffling feet came into vision: two, four, then tens of them. The world consisted of feet and the ringing in her ears. Then she gulped a full breath, her stomach nauseous. Hands lifted her, and she blinked, aware that a sea of women surrounded her. The ringing mixed into cheers as her stunned body was lifted high, borne along as if on a wave.
There she floated, adrift on a sea of supporting hands, buoyed by a press of smiling, shouting women.
“What happened?” she asked herself numbly. “What did I do?” She thought of the immense pile bet on the game. Of the loss she could have dealt Hickory Moiety and her tormentors.
You are a matron,
the voice said from somewhere inside her.
the voice said from somewhere inside her.
“F
ive points!” Smoke Shield roared. “Five
miserable
points!” He sat in the seclusion of his dark room. No one would find him here. In the gloom, he could be alone, staring at the empty room around him. He had bet everything: his clothing, furs, paints, boxes, shells, and pottery. Even the blankets and hides on his bed were gone, leaving only the split-cane matting. Through the weave he could see the sheathed stone sword and the little honorary arrows. Had they not been of such great importance to him, they, too, would have been gone. He had even surrendered his shirt, and now wore one of Thin Branch’s, feeling the too-tight material almost ripping from the act of breathing.
ive points!” Smoke Shield roared. “Five
miserable
points!” He sat in the seclusion of his dark room. No one would find him here. In the gloom, he could be alone, staring at the empty room around him. He had bet everything: his clothing, furs, paints, boxes, shells, and pottery. Even the blankets and hides on his bed were gone, leaving only the split-cane matting. Through the weave he could see the sheathed stone sword and the little honorary arrows. Had they not been of such great importance to him, they, too, would have been gone. He had even surrendered his shirt, and now wore one of Thin Branch’s, feeling the too-tight material almost ripping from the act of breathing.
The roar from the solstice games had been drifting in, reminding him of the women’s contest. Now it reached a crescendo. Looking up, he could almost believe the palace was trembling. What more had Hickory Moiety lost? He had seen the Old Camp women practicing, and after the drubbing the men’s team had taken this morning, he wouldn’t have bet a broken pot on the women winning. Not that he had one to bet.
The tumult beyond the palace didn’t recede. If anything it grew louder. He closed his eyes, dropping his face into his hands. Old Camp must have been exultant like they had never been before.
Time to go “hunting” again. The last thing he wanted to do was face all the smug faces, hear the taunts and jibes from the winners.
“Five foul little points!” He rubbed his face. The gods alone know what it would have been without his efforts. Of all the points scored by Hickory warriors, one out of three had been his. Gods, what a bunch of rabbits. He peeked through his fingers, seeing his empty floor. The outlines where boxes had been could be made out in the dust. Round rings marked where the pots had once sat.
He had only matting, the ceremonial sword, his war honors, and a borrowed shirt to his name. Not even his war club was left to him. A stinging reminder of his previously stolen bow and arrows.
“Please, Fast Legs, tell me you have run the woman down, killed her,
and recovered my bow and arrows
!”
and recovered my bow and arrows
!”
The muted roar of the crowd was his only answer.
Fast Legs! There was the problem. During the Busk celebration, Fast Legs had made more goals than Smoke Shield. Fast Legs hadn’t earned his name for nothing, and now, when so much was on the line,
where was he
? Blood and thunder, all he had to do was hide a body and hunt down one weasel-like woman. What could possibly be taking him so long? It wasn’t even as if he didn’t know where the woman lived.
where was he
? Blood and thunder, all he had to do was hide a body and hunt down one weasel-like woman. What could possibly be taking him so long? It wasn’t even as if he didn’t know where the woman lived.
If Fast Legs had just set a diversionary fire in a granary, he could have slipped into the woman’s house during the confusion, brained her when she stepped in the door, and been done with it.
He had needed Fast Legs
here
! For the game. In the eye of his souls, Smoke Shield could see Fast Legs catching his throw, turning, and slinging the ball through the goal time after time.
here
! For the game. In the eye of his souls, Smoke Shield could see Fast Legs catching his throw, turning, and slinging the ball through the goal time after time.
“It’s your fault,” he mumbled. “But for you, I wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Just kill that cursed woman, and get back here!
“War Chief?” came Thin Branch’s call.
“Yes, I’m here.” He straightened, leaning back against the wall. Gods, the last thing he wanted was to deal with his idiot slave.
Thin Branch pushed the door hanging to the side, his face betraying a curious excitement.
“How bad is it?” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Thin Branch, didn’t want to betray the extent of his depression. “I watched the Old Camp women practice. That relay of outside passing was remarkable.”
“We won!” Thin Branch chirped. “You should have seen it. Twenty to nineteen. And, here’s the remarkable part: Heron Wing had Morning Dew play for us. She was wonderful! Three goals she made, War Chief. Three
unassisted
goals. It was amazing! She ran like a deer! Outplayed the defenders every time. Tricked them, outran them, knocked them out of the way like they were grouse!”
unassisted
goals. It was amazing! She ran like a deer! Outplayed the defenders every time. Tricked them, outran them, knocked them out of the way like they were grouse!”
Smoke Shield straightened. “She did what?”
“She
won
the game! On the last play, she got the ball and ran from half field clear to the goal! You should have seen it! The whole field was chasing behind her, this huge mass of women!” Thin Branch’s face was glowing. “She outran them, dodged the defenders, or tricked them. Once she threw the ball between a woman’s legs. While the woman was looking between her legs, Morning Dew knocked her flat, ran past, scooped up the ball, and made the most spectacular cast I’ve ever seen. The ball flew true, perfectly between the goalposts.”
won
the game! On the last play, she got the ball and ran from half field clear to the goal! You should have seen it! The whole field was chasing behind her, this huge mass of women!” Thin Branch’s face was glowing. “She outran them, dodged the defenders, or tricked them. Once she threw the ball between a woman’s legs. While the woman was looking between her legs, Morning Dew knocked her flat, ran past, scooped up the ball, and made the most spectacular cast I’ve ever seen. The ball flew true, perfectly between the goalposts.”
Smoke Shield gaped. “My slave did that?”
“Well …” Thin Branch looked slightly abashed.
“They must be showering her with gifts!”
“Oh, they are. You wouldn’t believe it. Morning Dew took a terrible fall as she made that last cast. Knocked the wind right out of her. Our women picked her up, carried her. They went three times around the tchkofa, laughing and singing; then they plopped her down in front of the stakeholders. As the wagers were handed out, she was covered with pots, pearls, baskets of food, blankets, hides, and copper. We could hardly carry it all away.”
Smoke Shield threw his head back, laughter rolling
from deep down in his gut. “Carry it you shall. You take as many men as you need, those selfsame stumbling idiots that lost my wager, and you bring it all up here. Every last bit of it!” He jumped to his feet, flush with excitement and victory. He smacked a hard fist into his palm and let out a whoop of victory. He was giddy, laughing like a child.
from deep down in his gut. “Carry it you shall. You take as many men as you need, those selfsame stumbling idiots that lost my wager, and you bring it all up here. Every last bit of it!” He jumped to his feet, flush with excitement and victory. He smacked a hard fist into his palm and let out a whoop of victory. He was giddy, laughing like a child.
When he spun, he could see the look of consternation on Thin Branch’s face. He waved at him. “Go on. Like I said, you don’t have to do it yourself. Take some warriors. Tell them I ordered it.”
Thin Branch swallowed hard. “You said everything, War Chief.”
“Yes, yes, everything! All of it. The pearls, the food, the copper, everything!”
Thin Branch swallowed hard. “That’s just it, War Chief. I followed your orders perfectly this morning. I did exactly what you told me to.”
Smoke Shield stopped short, spinning, muscles bulging. “What are you talking about?”
Thin Branch, looking like a man poisoned, whispered, “You told me explicitly this morning. You had me repeat the order you gave me, War Chief. Word for word. I did exactly like you told me to.”
Smoke Shield frowned. “I told you, word for word, to bet everything on Hickory Moiety this morning.” He thrust an angry arm out. “Look at this room! Everything.”
“Yes. And I did that. Just as you ordered.” He winced. “You see, the thing is, everything included Morning Dew. Heron Wing …”
Smoke Shield’s vision narrowed. “Morning Dew?”
“Heron Wing …” Thin Branch wrung his hands. “She took the wager. She bet against her own moiety. Isn’t that the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard? She wagered her entire collection of fine shell necklaces specifically against Morning Dew. As of this morning, your slaves, me included, belong to Heron Wing.”
Smoke Shield sat hard on the pole bench, hardly aware that it cracked dangerously under his weight.
“It’s not all bad,” Thin Branch replied meekly. “The gracious Heron Wing has sent me back to you. As a … a gift to her beloved husband!”
T
he solstice remained cold, the ground hard and frozen for the much-anticipated chunkey match between Trader and the Yuchi high chief. Old White was so nervous he found it difficult to breathe as he watched Trader and Born-of-Sun make their ritual observances. Around them a huge crowd had gathered, literally pressing against each other to the point that War Chief Wolf Tail had to delegate warriors to keep the crowd back, especially downrange where an errant lance might do serious damage to a spectator. A buzz filled the air, all eyes on Trader, the high chief, Swimmer—who sat at Old White’s feet—and Two Petals.
he solstice remained cold, the ground hard and frozen for the much-anticipated chunkey match between Trader and the Yuchi high chief. Old White was so nervous he found it difficult to breathe as he watched Trader and Born-of-Sun make their ritual observances. Around them a huge crowd had gathered, literally pressing against each other to the point that War Chief Wolf Tail had to delegate warriors to keep the crowd back, especially downrange where an errant lance might do serious damage to a spectator. A buzz filled the air, all eyes on Trader, the high chief, Swimmer—who sat at Old White’s feet—and Two Petals.
That morning, in the ceremony before the first ballgame, people had been amazed that Chikosi would offer gifts to Mother Sun, and had actually fought over the Illinois bowls they had passed out randomly among the crowd.
“I guess we are no longer witches and wicked sorcerers,” Old White commented to Two Petals and the Kala Hi’ki. He waved back at a well-wisher in the crowd.
“People are curious,” the Kala Hi’ki replied. “That you are here, with me, is most auspicious to them. Their interest in the welfare of the Contrary has passed from lip to lip. And the offer made to your Trader has been buzzing among them like bees among flowers.” He turned his blind head toward Two Petals. “Are you all right?”
“I am stone,” she said softly, her expression oddly preoccupied as she watched a steaming shell cup of black drink being passed between the high chief and
Trader. “The people flow around me like a river. I am awash with their souls; they lap against me like waves.” She looked at an open space near them in the chunkey court. “You don’t feel them the way I do.” Then she cocked her head, as if listening to an answer. “I will not leap up and grab the chief’s lance from the air. You haven’t seen this like I have.”
Trader. “The people flow around me like a river. I am awash with their souls; they lap against me like waves.” She looked at an open space near them in the chunkey court. “You don’t feel them the way I do.” Then she cocked her head, as if listening to an answer. “I will not leap up and grab the chief’s lance from the air. You haven’t seen this like I have.”
Old White glanced in the direction she spoke, wondering what sort of being she saw out there on the naked clay.
A pipe was brought to Born-of-Sun, who took a pull, exhaled, and offered a prayer to the sky, his words spoken in Yuchi.
“He is calling for strength, for firm aim, and for Power to side with him in this most noble of contests,” the Kala Hi’ki translated. “He is a good man, this chief. Better than I would have made.”
“Better than any of us, I am beginning to think,” Old White said agreeably. “And, believe me, I have seen many chiefs. I hope your people continue to be grateful for what they have here.”
“Depending on those two men there, Seeker, he may well be your chief soon.”
Two Petals unexpectedly said, “I’ve seen the wood shatter. It cannot penetrate the stone. Rock has a hard and unforgiving heart.”
Old White nodded thoughtfully. The Kala Hi’ki had done wonders with the woman. And this time the blind Priest had used just a little of the herb extract. With each dose he had been cutting the mixture, weaning her slowly from the brew. As a result, her backward speaking was increasing and she’d grown detached. She paused more often to listen to voices and talk to beings he couldn’t see; but she no longer grew frantic when people crowded around. Sudden noises, like cheers from the crowd, didn’t cause her panic.
Old White fingered his chin, reached down to pet Swimmer, and watched as Trader and Born-of-Sun
stripped down to their breechcloths in the cold air. Trader raised his chunkey stone to his lips, blowing across it. Then he did the same with his lance.
stripped down to their breechcloths in the cold air. Trader raised his chunkey stone to his lips, blowing across it. Then he did the same with his lance.
The crowd went silent as Trader generously offered the first cast to Born-of-Sun. Old White felt his heart begin to hammer as the chief took the first mark, bent to loosen his muscles, and closed his eyes, as if seeing the cast deep inside the eye of his souls.
Why am I so worried?
He had seen chunkey before, had often had games played in his honor. This one, however, would determine his future.
He had seen chunkey before, had often had games played in his honor. This one, however, would determine his future.
He closed his eyes, praying,
Be strong, Trader. May Power ride your muscles and guide your cast.
Be strong, Trader. May Power ride your muscles and guide your cast.
Involved in his prayer, Old White missed the first cast, hearing the crowd explode in praise. Downrange he could see the lance and stone. The distance was close. One of the Priests stepped forward and used a knotted string to measure the distance. This he showed to the rapt crowd, and a cheer went up.
People called out encouragement as Born-of-Sun trotted down to retrieve his pieces.
Old White shot a glance in the direction of the stakeholders. A considerable pile had been bet on the Yuchi chief. A rather pitiful pile on Trader. Those few who had, Old White suspected, were hedging their bets. And besides, what good was it to bet everything against nothing?
Trader had taken the mark, did a deep knee bend, and rolled his shoulders. For a moment he looked calmly down the course.
Is he any good?
Old White wondered, having never seen Trader play.
Old White wondered, having never seen Trader play.
Trader launched himself, releasing with the smooth skill of an accomplished player, the stone disk rolling true. Then he cast—the motion smooth. Old White stood transfixed, watching the lance arc toward the stone. Both lance and stone came to rest at the same time. For the life of him, Old White couldn’t tell which cast had been
closer. The priest measured, holding up the string. “The point goes to the high chief by half a knot!”
closer. The priest measured, holding up the string. “The point goes to the high chief by half a knot!”
Other books
Unmasked by Kate Douglas
Caught in the Net by Breanna Hayse
Music for Wartime by Rebecca Makkai
Eddy Merckx: The Cannibal by Friebe, Daniel
Of Cocoa and Men 01 by Vic Winter
Operation Breathless by Marianne Evans
Enchanting the King (The Beauty's Beast Fantasy Series) by E.D. Walker
Animales fantásticos y dónde encontrarlos by J.K. Rowling
Educating Elizabeth by Pearce, Kate
It's Murder, My Son (A Mac Faraday Mystery) by Carr, Lauren