Seven Skull Shield perched beside Crazy Frog atop the rickety scaffold. From the elevated platform, he could see everything. Crowds were always bigger in the afterglow of holidays, and Night Shadow Star’s wedding to the Itza had been that. In addition was the uncertainty cast over Cahokia by the inconceivable slaughter of the Cahokian warriors. The people sensed a change, as if the world were no longer the same familiar place. When the people felt that way, they were more interested in congregating and listening to gossip and rumors than in working.
At the head of the court, Fire Cat warmed up. Stripped of his armor, he wore only a simple light tan hunting shirt, sweat-stained and wrinkled. He had pulled his long hair behind his head and bound it with a string.
Beside him, the player known as Skull Pinner soaked up the sun’s rays wearing his gorgeous black-and-yellow outfit with its splays of brilliantly dyed feathers and polished leather. A copper headpiece rested on his immaculately coifed locks. His face was painted black, his eyes, nose, and mouth in bright yellow to mimic that of a grimacing human skull. A yellow-and-black striped breechcloth was tied at his waist. He’d oiled his muscular arms and legs so that they glistened in the sunlight.
The crowd was mumbling, many shaking their heads as the odds makers worked the fringes asking for bets.
Crazy Frog grinned and gestured futility as he placed colored beads on the scoreboard he kept in front of him. “Your man can’t even get odds that he’ll be beaten by fifteen out of the twenty possible points.”
Seven Skull Shield fingered what was left of the paint on his chin, hoping he still looked enough like a noble that no one would recognize him. Or that if they did, being on Crazy Frog’s platform would be protection enough to keep him from being grabbed.
“I don’t care what he loses by. I just need to know how to fix his game.”
“He was said to have been pretty good when he was the war chief of Red Wing Town.”
“Piasa told Lady Night Shadow Star that he had to win at chunkey and combat.”
“You really believe she’s possessed by the underwater panther?”
“Old friend, you haven’t seen the things I have.”
“I thought you were a skeptic.”
“I am. About priests and temples and ceremonies. About Power? That’s another thing.”
A whining came up from below, and Seven Skull Shield craned his neck to stare down at the dog. The beast paced around the pile of Fire Cat’s armor where it lay under the guarding eyes of Crazy Frog’s men.
So … was the mongrel really a Spirit dog like the keeper of the Tortoise Bundle insisted? He really doubted it.
Applause went up from the crowd as Skull Pinner and Fire Cat took their places. As the favorite, Skull Pinner had the first roll and cradled his stone in his right hand.
At his side, Fire Cat crouched, his lance in his right hand, eyes fixed on the court.
Skull Pinner launched himself, muscles flexing as he sprinted forward. Four paces later, his arm went back and whipped forward to release the stone. It shot down the smooth clay.
Skull Pinner shifted his lance, arm going back. Just before the penalty line he and Fire Cat both released, the lances catching the sunlight as they curved upward. In a gentle arc, they sailed down toward the slowing stone.
Meanwhile Fire Cat and Skull Pinner raced in pursuit, their cries echoing with the crowd’s as the lances impacted point-first and fell shivering to the earth.
“Skull Pinner by a couple of hand lengths.” Crazy Frog moved one of his beads into a hole on his scoreboard as the players retrieved their lances and headed back to the start.
“What about Fire Cat?”
“Not bad. But it’s only one throw. I need to watch him for a while. Learn his habits and faults.”
Crazy Frog watched intently as Fire Cat positioned himself, leaning forward, eyes on the court. Beside him, Skull Pinner was grinning, hefting his lance as if testing its balance.
Fire Cat launched, powering forward, Skull Pinner matching pace for pace.
Whipping his arm back, Fire Cat bowled the black stone. It hit the ground with a bounce and jetted forward. Fire Cat never broke stride as he shifted his lance. Three steps later he cast, sending it flying after the stone. Slightly behind now, Skull Pinner made his cast a half a heartbeat later.
“Skull Pinner wins,” Crazy Frog declared.
“How do you know?” Seven Skull Shield asked, watching as the two players chased their flying lances, clapping hands, calling as if their desperate shouts could influence the lances in flight.
“Fire Cat isn’t smooth. He’s bowling the stone too hard, too high on the release. He’s thinking where he wants the stone to be when he casts his lance. Not watching it, reading its path.”
“I thought that’s how the best players won. By knowing where the stone was going to be and hitting that spot with their lances.”
Crazy Frog nodded as Skull Pinner won by an arm’s length. “That’s how they do it.” He paused for effect. “But it means the player must actually control the stone well enough to roll to that particular spot. And do it consistently.”
“And Fire Cat can’t?”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” He shot Seven Skull Shield a sidelong look. “The question is, will he be smart enough to take the criticism, or will he stalk away in a huff?”