Columella smiled to herself as she watched the interplay between Horn Lance and the Keeper. Definitely no love lost there, nor had she been close enough to overhear the conversation between Seven Skull Shield and Horn Lance. It had taken her some time to recognize the thief, out of place and dressed as he was.
That the Keeper had dragged the exotic paid woman to the side just added to the fascinating social dynamics playing out before her. Flat Stone Pipe’s spies had already informed her about the price Horn Lance had placed on the thief’s head. Seven Skull Shield was a paradox. Columella had made a considerable number of inquiries about him in the days since Walking Smoke had come so close to snuffing her lineage in blood and fire: who he was, why the Keeper had drawn such a man into her service.
Knowing as much as she did about him, she was startled to see him here, let alone dressed like a noble in his finery. That didn’t smack of Blue Heron’s doing. Night Shadow Star, however, wouldn’t have cared about appearance, let alone propriety. Was that the explanation? And if so, what did it imply about the thief’s influence?
That Seven Skull Shield stood face to face with the man who’d put a price on his head without reaching out, grabbing Horn Lance by the throat, and howling like a maniac as he beat him to death indicated that he fully understood the crosscurrents in the deep waters of intrigue.
As Horn Lance walked away from the thief, his lips twisted in wry amusement, Columella sauntered over to intercept him. She arched an eyebrow, cocking her head as he met her eyes.
“Greetings, Matron,” he said neutrally. “You honor us with your presence here today. Myself, I am delighted to see you. You have met the ahau Oxlajun Chul Balam?”
“Not yet.” She directed her gaze to where the Itza sat on his litter beside Night Shadow Star, a line of chiefs and matrons paying their respects, though the opulently dressed Itza seemed to be staring into space with glassy eyes. “Perhaps you will make the introduction?”
“Of course, Matron.”
“A moment first, if you would, Lord Horn Lance,” she added as he started toward the seated Itza.
Curiosity rapidly replaced irritation as he followed her off to one side and out of earshot of the others.
She glanced around to be sure, then began, “I’ve been keeping track of your activities over the last couple of days. My congratulations. You’re the talk of the city.”
The satisfaction of a satiated cougar lay behind his dark eyes. “These are exciting times, Matron. The Itza’s presence here is forever changing our world. The people realize and understand the momentous events unfolding around them.”
She glanced up at the palace. Its presence dominated the proceedings, a looming reminder of where the ultimate authority over Cahokia resided. “And how is your campaign to undermine credibility in the Morning Star progressing?”
“Matron! Surely you don’t mean to imply—”
“Neither of us is a fool, Horn Lance. You wouldn’t have come to pay your respects to Evening Star House hot on the heels of the visit to your cousin Green Chunkey if you hadn’t understood Cahokia’s underlying political structure. So let us talk bluntly. You’ve begun the process of undermining the Morning Star. The Itza provides a surrogate for the people, a new exotic with potentially more Powerful gods, assuming you can continue to awe the dirt farmers and Earth Clans. You’ve stabilized the south by assassinating the Natchez chiefs and installing new ones. Your arrival in Cahokia was magically orchestrated to dazzle us with wonder. The Morning Star has been lulled and distracted by remarkable gifts. Now the Itza marries Night Shadow Star. That roots his presence and acceptance as firmly as hard-packed ground around a World Tree pole. Now you’re whittling away at those who could sabotage your plans.”
“I think you’re seeing more than is really the case, Matron.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head toward where Seven Skull Shield stood, arms crossed, his hooded gaze on Blue Heron as she talked to the paid woman. “You’ve quite a price on the thief’s head. If one of your ruffians can finally waylay him without wrecking another charnel house, what are you going to do with him?”
“Who said I’d placed a—”
“Like I said, neither of us are fools.” Her gaze burned into his. “Did you come seeking Evening Star House’s help or not?”
“What does that have to do with the thief?”
“There’s no love lost between Blue Heron and myself. Your instincts were correct. For reasons that defy logic, she actually cares for that foul bit of human trash. Where were you thinking of holding him, or were you just going to sink his corpse in the river some night?”
Horn Lance pursed his lips, thoughtful eyes darting to the thief. Then he said, “We owe him one.”
She gave him a cold smile. “Dead he’s of no more use to you. Alive you can use him to torture the Keeper. Providing you can stash him somewhere where the Keeper can’t find him. Someplace where he can linger for a long time and add to Blue Heron’s dismay.”
“And why would you take a risk like that?”
“Like I said, the Keeper and I have never liked each other.” She paused. “Paying old debts is such a perilous business, wouldn’t you say?”