Fourteen

The way Seven Skull Shield saw it, he’d just been given a dream and a nightmare. The precariousness of his current situation had really been brought home as he tried to accommodate that squadron first, Blood Talon. The man had arrived shortly after Night Shadow Star and Fire Cat’s departure. Given that he was at the head of a party of armed warriors, and in a pissy mood, and declaring he came at the order of the Four Winds Clan Keeper, it wasn’t like Seven Skull Shield could tell the man to go stick his finger up a dark and nasty place in his posterior.

So, accompanied by four warriors, Blood Talon had searched the palace, making a mess and getting even further riled as it became apparent that no great Cahokian lady was hiding under one of the sleeping benches or in one of the cooking pots.

Seven Skull Shield had immediately decided he didn’t like the squadron first. And he’d had to temper his better judgment, which was to wait until the two-footed maggot was faced the other way and whack him in the head with a club. Given the need to appear helpful in proving that Night Shadow Star wasn’t in her palace, it had really hurt to be polite, sound reasonable, and acquiesce.

Somehow, the knowledge that twenty-some warriors surrounded the palace kept him from acting on his impulses. Therefore, he’d pasted on his honest face, kept Farts from peeing on the man’s leg, and gladly explained that he had no idea where Night Shadow Star was. Then he’d maintained his polite veneer while the man searched, and poked, and prodded in places that would have enraged Night Shadow Star’s propriety.

Sometimes he even amazed himself.

Seven Skull Shield had kept his mouth shut as the warriors withdrew, irritated and mumbling among themselves. Then he’d clapped his hands and looked again at the palace to which he’d been entrusted.

What in seven shades of shit did he know about a palace, let alone Night Shadow Star’s? Palaces were for robbing, not running.

When it came to Green Stick, Clay String, and Winter Leaf, the way they looked at him was the same as if some giant bug had just crawled in their door.

Willow Blossom, however, was still in a state of wonderment. After Night Shadow Star’s departure, Willow Blossom had collapsed, loose-limbed, onto one of the sleeping platforms, whispering, “That was really her. I’m in her palace. No one will believe this.”

Willow Blossom had told Seven Skull Shield that she was a Panther Clan woman from somewhere up beyond the eastern bluffs. Said her parents had raised her in a small mound group out by the Moon Mound in the prairie lands a day’s hard travel east on the Avenue of the Sun. There they kept an eye on the local dirt farmers and laborers who worked for the moon priests.

She’d considered a marriage to Robin Feather as a step up in wealth and status—if not happiness and wedded bliss. Now she gawked at the finery that surrounded her. Something feral gleamed behind her eyes, an eagerness in her expression.

“Most of this,” Seven Skull Shield told her, “was winnings from when Fire Cat beat that Natchez, Swirling Cloud. I hear it was a remarkable game. Each player wagered his life on the outcome. All of Cahokia bet against Fire Cat. In the end, the Red Wing won all this and more. First thing he did, though? He clubbed Swirling Cloud in the head, and then he cut it off the man’s still-twitching body. That’s Swirling Cloud’s skull up there. The polished one painted red.”

She followed his finger to where the Natchez’s skull grinned down from up by the center pole.

“Who is this woman?” Green Stick demanded, stepping forward. “What’s this all about? Why would our lady trust you, of all people?”

“As to Willow Blossom, she’s a friend of mine. She’s going to stay here for a while because it’s safe.” Seven Skull Shield spread his hands wide. “Listen, Night Shadow Star caught me by as much surprise as she did the rest of you. So, here’s the thing: I don’t want to get in your way. Do what you normally do. Cook and all that. Keep the fire going, get wood, water.”

“And what are you doing?”

“I have my own affairs to attend to.” He made a face, glancing out the door. “She really thinks they’ll let me in to give Morning Star her message?”

And will it put me in special danger when I do it?

That sent a shiver up his back. He’d never enjoyed Four Winds politics. Especially since he was more or less expendable in the eyes of the various two-footed serpents who struggled for supremacy among the privileged elite. After all, what was one shiftless and clanless thief compared to lords, chiefs, matrons, and war leaders?

“You mean that?” Willow Blossom asked. “You’re really going up there? Face to face with the living god?”

“I’ve been there before. Granted, it was with the Keeper.” Still, it left him feeling unusually wary.

“I thought that was a lie to impress me.”

“Oh, he lies all right,” Clay String muttered where he was trying to shoo Farts away from the food bowls. Long threads of drool were spindling off the dog’s jowls. “Just not about the impossible things. You should have seen him passing himself off as a noble when our lady had to marry that despicable Itza.”

“Didn’t think she needed to marry another pile of walking vomit like Spotted Wrist.”

“He’s a great man,” Winter Leaf shot back from where she was folding some of the blankets that Blood Talon had tossed about in his search.

“Explain what’s so great about him?” Seven Skull Shield asked as he paced along the walls, looking at stacks of boxes, jars, and overstuffed baskets. “Compared to Fire Cat, he’s a bit of walking puke. All this, these are the Red Wing’s winnings from the chunkey court, and Night Shadow Star gave away the rest of it. Only the Morning Star has more wealth in the whole world.”

“And Night Shadow Star leaves the most notorious thief in Cahokia in charge of it?” Green Stick wondered. “How does that work?”

A very good question, and one Seven Skull Shield was asking himself.