The Dawn Country (32 page)

I will not. I claw at his fingers. He’s pressing so hard my teeth are cutting into my lower lip. Blood wells in my mouth.

“You’re a little warrior, eh? Well, don’t worry, we’ll beat that out of you.”

The man half drags me to a deer trail that winds through the trunks toward the fire. Many people have walked this trail recently. The snow has been trampled, leaving a black slash through the white.

As he shoves me into a small clearing, a cry climbs my throat. A boy is huddled before the fire, rocking back and forth, shivering hard.

Against the man’s hand, I try to scream his name, but only a garbled sound vibrates in my throat.

The man’s breath is fetid as he bends down to hiss in my face, “Make a sound and my men will kill your entire party.”

I nod, and as he slowly removes his hand, I wipe blood from my lips with my sleeve. My knees have gone wobbly.
“Wrass?”

He turns, and I see the tears on his cheeks. He looks utterly broken. He’s shivering so hard he can’t seem to keep his eyes on me, but his shaking voice is clear. “S-sorry, Odion. So s-sorry.”

The man shoves me hard, and I careen toward the fire. “Sit down, and stay quiet.”

I drop to my knees beside Wrass, and he whispers, “They l-let me go … . Knew I’d … lead them … to the others.”

“Others?” I whisper in sudden terror. “What others? I thought I heard—”

“Close your mouths,” the man orders, and swings his war club to emphasize his words.

I stare at him, but Wrass’ head falls forward, and he starts sobbing as though his heart is breaking.

Thirty-six

“W
hat was that?” Cord stared southward. “Did you hear that? I thought I heard a boy’s voice.”

Sindak cracked off another branch, placed it in the crook of his left arm, and replied, “I heard something, but I don’t know what it was.”

Towa’s handsome face tightened. “It sounded like a dog’s bark to me. Where’s Odion?”

Cord dumped his armload of wood and pulled his war club from his belt. “This could be nothing, but get back to camp. Tell War Chief Koracoo that if I’m not there with Odion in five hundred heartbeats, something is wrong.”

Cord didn’t wait to see if they obeyed him; he trotted down the shore.

The clouds had parted. Moonlight slanted across the snowy forest in bars and streaks. Where it touched, the ground gleamed as though coated with silver dust.

Cord slid around the boulder that blocked the path and heard a pathetic whimper. He eased his head out and peered at the trail. Almost invisible in the moonlight, the young wolf was dragging himself along Odion’s footprints, whimpering and struggling, trying to get to the place in the forest where firelight flickered.

Hot blood surged through Cord’s veins.

A warriors’ camp? No. If a warrior had clubbed a puppy, he would have already spitted him and had him roasting over the flames. The man who clubbed Gitchi didn’t have the luxury of picking him up … . He needed both hands, one for his weapon and one for Odion.

Cord surveyed the grove of maples and sycamores, then slowly made his way to the puppy and knelt down. As Cord petted him, Gitchi’s tail weakly thumped the ground. “Were you trying to get to him, to protect him?” Cord asked softly. “You’re a brave boy.”

Gitchi whined.

“Don’t worry. I’m coming back for you.”

Cord silently rose and started for the orange halo of firelight.

Odion’s footprints marked the way.

Thirty-seven

Odion

The man turns away from us to scan the forest, and I whisper, “Wrass, we’re going to get out of here. I’m not alone. Just down the shore—”

“Shh!” Wrass hisses, and glances at the warrior.

As though I’m trying to help keep my friend warm, I put my arm around Wrass’ shoulder and draw him close while I whisper in his ear, “Where’s the rest of the war party? I don’t see them.”

His chin subtly tips toward the forest to my left, then indicates other places. I can’t force myself to look. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see. “How many?”

He shakes his head as though he doesn’t know for sure. This isn’t like Wrass. He is a warrior. He always knows who and what he is facing. Has the cold taken his senses? There is a woodpile beside the fire. I grasp a branch and lay it on the flames. As the fire eats through the bark, it crackles, and sparks flit toward the limbs above.

Wrass has his head bowed to hide the movements of his mouth. “The old w-woman hired more men. Don’t know how many.”

Thirty-eight

F
rom where Koracoo stood guard beneath the leafless maple branches at the edge of the clearing, she could see Gonda and Wakdanek adding twigs to the fire, preparing it for the larger branches that Cord’s wood-gathering party would bring. Already a weak amber gleam flickered through the trees and reflected from the river. Tutelo and Hehaka crouched before the tiny blaze with their hands extended. Both were shivering. Their soft voices seemed to echo in the snowfall and increased the deep sense of unease that tormented her.

CorpseEye was warm against her fingers, telling her there was something out there. She spread her feet and gripped the ancient club in tight fists, preparing herself for the worst.

Gonda called, “What’s keeping Cord? We could use that wood now.”

Wakdanek replied, “Why don’t I take the children and collect some more of the driftwood along the shore? We’ll add it to the pile. That should be enough to keep the blaze going until—”

“Quiet!” Koracoo stiffened at the sound of feet pounding up from the south, coming hard along the shore. “Gonda?”

He was instantly on his feet, his club in his hand. From many summers of warring together, he had learned every possible tone in her voice, and he knew this was more than just Cord returning from wood gathering.

“Where?” he softly asked.

She tipped her chin to the south.

Wakdanek rose to his feet and pulled his club from his belt. “It’s probably just Cord, or Sindak and Towa.”

Gonda turned to the children. “Baji, take Tutelo and Hehaka. Get in the canoe. Hide yourselves under the packs.”

Baji didn’t ask a single question. She scrambled to her feet and led the other children to the canoes. As they pulled packs over the top of them, Gonda said, “Wakdanek, if anything happens, I want you in that canoe and headed down the river with the children. If we’re able, we’ll catch you before dawn. If we haven’t caught you by then, don’t stop. Do you understand?”

Wakdanek swallowed hard and nodded. “I do.”

As the steps pounded closer, Koracoo silently slipped behind the maple trunk and shifted CorpseEye for an easy swing at the first man’s head.

Most of the storm had passed, though Cloud People still filled the heavens and cast dark shadows as they journeyed northward, apparently following the river. Snow fell lightly, obscuring Koracoo’s view. She stared hard at the moonlit trail … and made out Sindak, coming fast. There was only one man behind him. Towa. She could tell from the way he moved.

As he ran for the clearing, she called, “Where’s Cord? Where’s my son?”

Sindak stumbled when she stepped out from behind the maple and onto the trail in front of him. “Odion,” he said, breathing hard. “We heard a shout and a bark. Cord went to find him. It’s probably nothing, but Cord said that if he wasn’t back in five hundred heartbeats, you should—”

Sindak’s voice faded as his eyes lifted and rapidly darted over the trees around the clearing. He said only, “War Chief.”

“Koracoo?” Gonda called almost simultaneously.

She turned to see faces gleaming in the faint light cast by the fire. They stood behind trees, but she could see their drawn bows. The fletching on the arrows shimmered.

“Lay down your weapons,” a man called from the shadows. “We have you surrounded. If you don’t do as I say, we’ll capture the children and make you watch while we gut them.”

Every eye turned to Koracoo. Gonda was gritting his teeth, glaring in disgust that they’d allowed themselves to be cornered like this. Wakdanek’s face had gone stony.

“Do as he says.” Koracoo gently placed CorpseEye on a snow-covered pile of old leaves. As she slipped her bow and quiver from her shoulder and placed them beside CorpseEye, she whispered to Sindak, “I count eight. You?”

“Eight,” he replied, “maybe nine. I think there’s someone standing at the edge of the firelight to the north.” She heard snow crunch as he and Towa placed their clubs within reach.

Towa added, “And two behind us, War Chief, blocking the trail.”

“Our only escape route,” Sindak said in a vaguely annoyed voice. “They’ve been watching and assessing us for a long time. Probably since we landed. Their camp must be nearby.”

Koracoo glanced at CorpseEye. He had never led her into a trap before. There had to be more here than she was seeing.

A tall man with broken yellow teeth stepped out of the forest and walked into the firelight. He moved like a gangly stork wading the shallows and wore a beautiful red leather cape trimmed with seashells.

More warriors emerged from the trees, spreading out, circling them like a pack of hungry wolves. Each carried a drawn bow, and several of them were warriors from the People Who Separated. She could tell from their hats, made from the shoulder skin of a moose, which were very similar to the one Wakdanek wore. Her brows drew together as she tried to figure it out. The People Who Separated did not ally themselves with any outsiders, but the red-caped man’s accent marked him as a man of the Mountain People, and she suspected by the distinctive way he moved that the skinny man to Red Cape’s right was from the Landing People.

Eight men in the clearing. But Sindak was right. There was another shadow at the edge of the firelight to the north. It swayed slightly as though watching the proceedings, merely observing. And there could be many more out in the trees.

“I am Kotin,” Red Cape greeted. “Messenger for the powerful—”

“Kotin!” The cry came from the canoe. Packs scattered as Hehaka leaped to his feet and scurried across the boat to get out. He charged headlong for the man, calling, “I’m here! I’m right here. I knew you’d come for me!”

As Hehaka raced by Gonda, he grabbed the boy, swung him into his arms, and held him like a shield over his chest. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let me go!” Hehaka pounded his fists into Gonda’s shoulders. “They’ve come for me. I have to go to them!”

Kotin lunged toward Gonda, and Gonda shouted, “Come one step closer, and I’ll snap his neck.”

Kotin stopped dead in his tracks. “That would be very foolish. A short distance away, we’re holding two Yellowtail Village children as hostages, your son and a hawk-faced boy named Wrass. Do you want to see them dead?”

A weightless sensation possessed Koracoo as the horrifying realization sank in that they had not accidentally stumbled upon a war party, but …

Gonda turned just barely toward her, and she saw the same stunned knowledge on his face. He called, “Koracoo, I assume you’re going to negotiate with this piece of filth.”