Anyone who spent any length of time in Cahokia had heard of the chunkey games at River Mounds City. While the Morning Star kept his chunkey courts immaculately groomed for his sacred ceremonial games, High Chief War Duck of River House had a far more pragmatic attitude about his chunkey grounds.
Located in the elongated plaza, overseen by his mound-top palace, the River City chunkey courts were talked of up and down the river. Just up from the canoe landing, they drew every Trader, embassy, and visiting lord, noble, or war chief. From the swampy gulf coast in the south to the cold forests in the north, good players dreamed of visiting River Mounds City and testing themselves against the best in the world.
So keen was the competition that some of the best players had come to River City—and never left. Those rare individuals lived and breathed for the game, many having amassed significant wealth and standing in the community. With names like Wins-His-Cast, Long Throw, and Hits-His-Stone, they had adopted gaudy costumes and accumulated followings who flocked to watch them play.
And in the process, War Duck had figured out how to skim a percentage of the professional players’ winnings.
Among those who followed chunkey with a near-religious fervor was Crazy Frog. Fire Cat had heard rumors of the man and was familiar with the role he’d played in bringing an end to Walking Smoke’s reign of terror.
As they approached River Mounds City with its high temples and palaces, travel on the crowded Avenue of the Sun slowed as people packed the narrow thoroughfare.
“This way,” Seven Skull Shield called, ducking off between a pigment dealer’s hut and a weaver’s. The pack he’d picked up at Clan Keeper Blue Heron’s bobbed on his wide back.
Fire Cat had no idea what the sack contained, Seven Skull Shield having left him on the veranda while he stepped inside. He had heard some tense-sounding conversation between the thief and Smooth Pebble, though the words had been incomprehensible.
Traveling with the thief had been both entertaining and harrowing. First off, Fire Cat still wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision about leaving Night Shadow Star in the clutches of her new husband. Second, he’d never condoned thievery. The act was unthinkable. Therefore he’d bitten his tongue to keep from protesting when Seven Skull Shield deftly stole a roasted duck from where it cooled at a meat-seller’s stall.
At first he’d refused so much as a single bite, empty though his belly was.
“Don’t know why you’d make such a fuss about it,” Seven Skull Shield had muttered as he stripped meat from one of the legs. “The duck’s not going back to its previous owner any time soon. It’s going to be digested whether it’s just me and this dog eating it, or you helping. It’s the same outcome for the duck either way.”
Irrefutable logic. Seven Skull Shield was full of it.
And the duck had been decidedly tasty, cooked with a sage and beeweed rub for added flavor.
Now he shook his head as he followed the thief and his ugly dog through a maze of buildings, walls, granaries, sweat lodges, and storage houses.
“How do you find your way?” he cried.
“Like the lines on your grandmother’s face,” Seven Skull Shield called over his shoulder. “Once you’ve seen them, you never forget.”
“It’s a stinking maze in here. And I do mean stinking,” he growled distastefully as he stepped over piles of human crap and wrinkled his nose at the smell of urine.
“People have to go somewhere.” Seven Skull Shield threw him a look over his shoulder. “Ah, I understand. You’re noble-born. You’ve never had to see how my kind of people make do. Well, Red Wing, welcome to my world.”
They had to retreat and wedge themselves out of the way as an old man, back bent under a remarkable load of thatching, took up the narrow passage.
In the wake of the old man’s passing, Fire Cat heard a shout go up as he resumed his pursuit of Seven Skull Shield. “What’s that?”
“That, Red Wing, is what we’ve come for.”
Moments later, he and Fire Cat emerged from between a moon temple and a Panther Clan charnel house into a crowded plaza.
Fire Cat immediately placed himself. The high palace at the end of the narrow plaza was High Chief War Duck’s. The building-studded mounds along the elongated plaza housed a Four Winds Clan House and charnel mound along with a Men’s House, Women’s House, and temples dedicated to Old-Woman-Who-Never-Dies, Morning Star, Hunga Ahuito, the sun and moon, and various Spirit Beings. Then came the inevitable Earth Clan palaces, their council and charnel houses, and the various society houses.
The usual hawkers crowded the peripheries offering food, drink, ceramics, chipped and ground stone tools, fabrics, carvings, jewelry, and anything else imaginable.
But most of the people were crowded along the edges of the chunkey courts. Through the press, Fire Cat caught a glimpse of sprinting players. An instant later their lances glimmered in the sunlight as they arced through the sky in pursuit of a fast-rolling stone.
Shouts of delight and dismay rose as the lances disappeared behind the mass of bodies, indicating that the play had been decided.
Seven Skull Shield slipped through the crowd with a remarkable ease given his bulk. Fire Cat, with his long lance, was pressed to keep up.
At the foot of a raised wooden platform, Seven Skull Shield stopped and shaded his eyes as he looked up.
Sitting atop the platform was an average-looking man wearing a fine fabric tunic, his head shaded by a flat-topped sun hat.
“Crazy Frog!” Seven Skull Shield called. “Do you have a moment?”
Fire Cat squinted up as he studied the notorious “lord of chunkey.” For such a renowned figure, he looked absolutely unremarkable with his bland, round face, nondescript clothing, and ordinary wooden-beaded necklace.
The man looked down, recognized Seven Skull Shield, and sighed. “What kind of trouble are you in now?”
“Trouble? None.” The thief made a face. “Well, that is but for a disruptive Itza, a bunch of despicable Natchez, and a recently returned Four Winds noble that I’ve got to put in his place.”
“Ah, the one who is bedding Wooden Doll and has put a price on your head?”
“You’ve heard?”
“Given how much he’s offering for you, I find it curious you’d be here, announcing yourself. Even if you are dressed like a noble. I could make a fortune.”
Seven Skull Shield jerked a thumb at Fire Cat. “I brought protection. My very own warrior. And yes, you could make a fortune. But you can make a bigger one with considerably less risk by helping me.”
“What do you want? And why should I waste my time on it?”
Seven Skull Shield unslung the sack on his shoulder, reached in, and tossed up a polished copper bracelet.
Crazy Frog caught it with a snap of his hand, studied the gleaming metal, and a lopsided smile curled his mouth. “Suddenly and remarkably, you have my attention.”
Again Seven Skull Shield hooked a thumb in Fire Cat’s direction. “This one would like your opinion on his chunkey game. Consider him a pilgrim from a far-off land. A babe cast loose in the cold and brutal world of real chunkey players. A lost soul who desperately needs your expertise on how to improve his game and is willing to listen and learn.”
Fire Cat ground his teeth as a flush of embarrassed heat warmed his ears and cheeks. “I don’t need any riverside scoundrel to—”
“Ah! You must be Fire Cat,” Crazy Frog said with dawning recognition. “Word is that you had to send your lady to get your clothes back from the Natchez.”
“I don’t need this,” Fire Cat muttered through gritted teeth, turning to leave.
A hard hand slapped down on his shoulder; Seven Skull Shield whirled him back around. Face jutting into Fire Cat’s he said, “You do need this. You want to save your lady? You’ll stay, you’ll show Crazy Frog what you’ve got, and you’ll listen and learn.”
“But he’s—”
“The best in the world when it comes to evaluating players. And he’ll see what’s wrong with you in a single match.”
“A single match?”
Seven Skull Shield looked up at Crazy Frog. “How soon can he play?”
Crazy Frog studied Fire Cat through half-lidded eyes, as though taking his worth. After a long hesitation, he turned, bellowing, “Hey! Four Fingers! Got a substitution for the next match. Take Lightning Lance out. Someone else is playing Skull Pinner.”
“Who?” a voice called from the other side.
“I wouldn’t use his name,” Seven Skull Shield suggested with emphasis.
Crazy Frog glanced down at the ugly dog that was sniffing the support pole of his platform; then he glanced back. “It’s a new player. A man called Wounded Dog!”
“He’s up next!” the voice called back.
As Fire Cat’s ears continued to burn, Crazy Frog studied him with a cocked head, then said, “I’d shed that armor, helmet, and ax. They just get in the way. You’re up next, so if I were you, I’d be quick about it before someone changes his mind and decides this is all folly.”