Three

Squadron First Blood Talon winced as he and the Hero of the North’s honor guard followed the new Keeper into his palace. For two decades now, Blood Talon had been one of Spotted Wrist’s most trusted commanders, confidants, and friends. But ever since their army’s triumphant return from the conquest of the north, Spotted Wrist hadn’t been the same.

Always cunning and politically astute, these days Spotted Wrist was like a different man—and it wasn’t subtle. In the past, the war leader had often spoken in jest: “After as hard as I’ve worked, when the Spirits and Power finally give me my just due, it will probably mean they wish to destroy me.”

Blood Talon now wondered if his friend’s words hadn’t been prophetic.

Storming into the palace—and out of sight of the passing crowds of gawking dirt farmers, Traders, and vendors—Spotted Wrist turned on his retinue, finger thrusting like a spear.

“Pus-rotted gods, can you believe that?” The man’s eyes burned. “I am chastised, embarrassed like a child, over a couple of sheets of copper stolen from some distant swamp rats’ camp?”

“War Leader,” Nutcracker, the squadron second, said hastily, “we’re doing everything we can.”

Spotted Wrist fumed, stomped his foot. “I am humiliated. And in front of those fawning Earth Clans chiefs. Not to mention the embassies from half the world! Why? Because that arrogant young woman treats me like some low-born suitor, I might be as good as a dirt farmer in her eyes. One of these unwashed, incomprehensible rabble who’ve flocked to Cahokia. I am Spotted Wrist! I’ve been taking care of her since she was an infant swaddled in cattail down.”

“War Leader”—Blood Talon took his stand, back to the door—“she has special standing with the reincarnated Morning Star. The word is that she’s possessed by the spirit of Piasa, that the Underworld and the living god—”

“I know the rumors, pus take them, and I know Night Shadow Star. She’s always been impetuous. Never had to face the consequences of her actions. I spent half my time when she was a girl keeping her and her uncontrolled brothers from facing the consequences. I wouldn’t be in this position if her father were still alive. Red Warrior Tenkiller wouldn’t stand for it.”

Spotted Wrist’s face puckered, as if he’d just remembered something. “Thought she was finally becoming a woman instead of a spoiled little wild weasel. When they reincarnated the Morning Star into Chunkey Boy’s body something happened. She passed her woman’s moon and married Three Falls. Was taking her place in the leadership. At least until he was killed up north.

“Figured she’d have cut that Red Wing we sent her into little pieces. By rain and hail, he sure wasn’t much when we tossed his sorry carcass into that canoe and sent him downriver.

“No,” Spotted Wrist mused. “And now he’s her lap dog. Her slave. And she dotes on him.”

Nutcracker muttered, “Half the city thinks he’s serving her as more than a slave. Rumor is that he’s just as adept with his shaft as he is on the chunkey court or in combat. If he’s half as good under the covers as his reputation, you may have to poison him after you finally marry the woman.”

The frown deepened on Spotted Wrist’s forehead. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s given up everything for a tingle in her sheath. Word was that she and Makes Three…”

As his commander hesitated, Blood Talon saw the man’s change of expression. “Yes, War Leader? I know that look.”

Spotted Wrist slapped a fist into his palm. “If she’s as beguiled by the Red Wing as she was by Three Falls, it would destroy her in the event that anything happened to her bed toy.”

“You mean like last time, she’d fall apart.” Blood Talon remembered the way Night Shadow Star had grieved for her dead husband. The woman had lost her souls to the Underworld. So great was her grief that she’d become totally listless.

“She’d have agreed to anything,” Spotted Wrist whispered. “It broke her will.”

Nutcracker asked, “So if something should happen to the Red Wing?”

“That’s not even difficult.” Blood Talon grinned. “A well-placed arrow? Shot from ambush? Say, in the middle of a crowd? Who’d know?”

“Maybe have someone anonymous, one of our warriors, dressed as a … a dirt farmer,” Nutcracker said. “You know, just hand Fire Cat a cup of soup laced with water hemlock. I’ve seen how the people adore him. The stories they tell have made him into a walking legend. People offer him food and drink all the time.”

“Water hemlock’s a terrible way to die,” Blood Talon added. “If Night Shadow Star calls old Rides-the-Lightning, he’ll know which poison it was.”

Nutcracker lifted his hands, looking innocent. “They’d never know who did it. Just a face in the crowd.”

Spotted Wrist added, “It’s not like the Red Wing doesn’t have enemies. I’ve heard that the Natchez and the Quiz Quiz, not to mention some of the other Houses, bear him ill will.”

“Or one of us could sneak in and smack his brains out in the middle of the night. Set up an ambush, something that would draw him out of her palace…”

Spotted Wrist narrowed his gaze. “It can’t look like an assassination. She’d know we were behind it.”

Nutcracker crossed his arms. “We’d do it in a manner that couldn’t be traced back to us.”

“She’d know. Believe me.”

“Then it has to look like an accident,” Blood Talon told them. “A drowning. A slip or fall. Something.”

Nutcracker made a face. “Have to get close for that. When have we ever had the chance?” He glanced at Spotted Wrist. “Lord, if you could make some plan? Get her to accompany you out away from the city? Perhaps find some pretext to get her to journey with you to the Moon Temple over east? The lunar maximum is coming up, after all.”

“Once out of town we would have to separate her from him,” Blood Talon said. “He’s always with her. Can’t have her witness us breaking his neck.”

“We don’t have time,” Spotted Wrist said. “She leaves in three days. I need him dead now.”

“Poison,” Nutcracker insisted. “Concentrated essence of acorn leechings mixed with boiled nightshade and poison ivy leaves. It just shuts the body down.”

“I’d rather kill him outright. Face to face. But how do we manage that?” Blood Talon asked. “It’s not like I can just walk up to him and challenge him to combat.”

Spotted Wrist straightened, a gleam coming to his eyes. “Why not?”

“Well, War Leader, it would be pretty obvious, don’t you think? You said it can’t be traced back to us. Night Shadow Star is going to be pretty certain who’s behind it if I’m standing over his dead body while I’m wiping his blood and brains off my war club.”

“Who said it had to be combat?” Spotted Wrist arched an eyebrow. “No, it’s a friendly bout. Just sparring for practice. After all, you’re in charge of the squadron accompanying the Cofitachequi expedition. Just a routine training match, a way to feel out his worth and skill prior to the coming trip. But somehow it goes wrong.”

Nutcracker was grinning. “And accidents do happen.”

“Do you think it would be that easy?” Blood Talon felt his blood begin to race. “He’s supposed to be the greatest warrior in Cahokia if you believe the stories told in the Great Plaza.”

Spotted Wrist waved it away. “Stories are like penises. They grow in the telling. So, the Red Wing killed a bunch of Itza warriors? Me, I’ve never seen an Itza fight. We were up north, doing real fighting. And I’d put Blood Talon up against anyone in the whole of Cahokia when it came to the club and shield. Think, Nutcracker. Who, among all the warriors you know, is better?”

Nutcracker lifted an eyebrow.

“That’s right.” Spotted Wrist stepped up, placed a hand on Blood Talon’s shoulder. “Now, you really can make it look like an accident, can’t you?”

“Absolutely, War Leader. I’ll be horrified. Brokenhearted. On my knees on the point of tears when she comes rushing up. And, oh so sorry. I’ll offer to kill myself.”

“No need to go that far.” A pause. “But I will have to exile you. Make a show of your punishment. Some demonstration of my rage and displeasure. You understand that, don’t you?”

Blood Talon broke out in laughter. “What of it? You’ll be married and have Lady Night Shadow Star’s title. I’ll be headed off in charge of the expedition within days anyway. By the time I return in glory from Cofitachequi, who will remember a dead slave?”