Horn Lance crouched on his heels, a cup of steaming mint tea held by the cup’s horn-like handle. He watched the sun’s first rays shoot across a cloud-mottled sky. Sometime after midnight it had started to rain and lasted long enough to not only leave puddles but to scrub the sky of smoke and haze.
His back to the Men’s House wall, he watched the first people as they trooped across the Great Plaza to lay offerings at the foot of the great World Tree pole where it rose like a mighty spear. On the other side of the grassy expanse, the east-facing palaces and temples gleamed in the fresh light. The colorful guardian poles and standards in front of them contrasted to the cloud-backed horizon.
At the twin mounds on the plaza’s southern boundary, the Earth Clans priest Rides-the-Lightning was leading his acolytes in the ritual greeting prayer on the eastern side of the temple. People stopped to watch and join the prayer as they emerged from the Avenue of the Moon’s northern terminus.
Despite the hour, the first of the vendors and Traders were arriving, setting up their small stalls or laying out goods on blankets along the plaza margins. From outlying areas and other districts, many had been walking most of the night to arrive early enough to claim the best locations.
“We have a problem,” Swirling Cloud said as he stepped out and crouched beside Horn Lance. The Natchez hadn’t even taken the time to braid his hair and wrap it in the traditional Sun Born’s coils at either side of his head.
“Only one?”
“The cloak is gone. Someone went through our boxes last night. Some jewelry and sacred ornaments are missing along with a box of hallucinogens.” The young man’s jaws knotted, a seething rage behind his eyes. “The Morning Star is going to hear about this. We’re going to turn this place upside down until the culprit is turned over to hang in a square. If it means bringing half of this city down in—”
“No. We won’t.”
“What do you mean? I just told you, we were robbed last night! Someone took the eagle cloak! Stole objects sacred to the Great Sun! Defiled our—”
“What about Spearing Beak? Wasn’t he the warrior on guard last night?”
“Two Throws had to kick him awake when we got back. I’ll deal with him in a moment. First thing, we have to tell the Morning Star—”
“Tell him what? That we were so lax and incompetent we only posted one warrior on guard? That we can’t see to our own security?”
“Don’t you care?”
“Of course. And it’s my own fault.”
“Your fault?”
“I should have expected this. Laid a trap.”
“When I tell the Morning Star—”
“He’ll smile behind his face paint, say something soothing, and order the miscreant to be produced. Which, of course, Blue Heron will work assiduously to accomplish. In the end, I suspect she will come up with some slave or other poor person who’s managed to raise her ire. We’ll be distracted while we torture the poor maggot to death, all the while listening to his pleadings that he knows nothing about the stolen items.”
“Blue Heron? You think she’s behind this?”
“Of course.” Horn Lance sipped his tea. “Which is why we will say nothing.”
“Are you head struck? She has the cloak!”
Horn Lance stared placidly into Swirling Cloud’s burning eyes. “Now, think, my friend. Use the wits the Sun supposedly imparted to your Natchez souls. Blue Heron is counting on your rage.”
“Then I’m going to give her a full dose of it! I’m—”
“What happens when we charge up to the Morning Star’s palace, demanding the return of our stolen property? Blue Heron may even be waiting up there with the cloak, with your sacred Natchez items, and an eager smile on her face.
“‘Yes, Morning Star,’ she says, ‘a Trader reported to me that a slave had tried to relieve himself of stolen goods. When we investigated, we found not only the stolen Natchez goods, but the cloak! The very one Nine Strikes’ murderer took from his dead body! How could it have ended up among Thirteen Sacred Jaguar’s noble Natchez?’”
Swirling Cloud paused, the heat of his rage draining away. “I see. So, what do we do?”
“Well … maybe beat Spearing Beak to within a whisker of his life, but no one says anything to anyone. And if asked, we all declare that we had no theft. Nothing of ours is missing. That being the case, and since Keeper Blue Heron claims to have found the cloak, she must have Nine Strikes’ murderer as well, correct? And if she doesn’t? How can she have one and not the other?”
“Then, do you think she’s done that? Taken the cloak and our sacred artifacts to the Morning Star?”
“I dearly hope so. She didn’t get to be Keeper for all these years by being stupid.”
Swirling Cloud curled his fingers, as if raking the air. “I tell you, I’ll make her pay for this.”
“Not if you insist on falling into a rage every time she plays you. Do that, and we’ll lose it all.”
“Very well. What do you suggest? Just sit here? Let her get away with it?”
“No, my young friend. It’s just that when a bobcat hunts a badger, he must do it very carefully.” Horn Lance smiled. “And employ distractions of his own.”
“And when are you going to employ these distractions?”
At that moment a litter appeared out of the morning, borne by eight muscular young men.
“Just as soon as I’ve eaten.”