Forty-nine

Spotted Wrist’s palace. Seven Skull Shield knew the place—every nook and cranny of it. He had been here before. What was new? The pole cage that the Keeper had had built. Spotted Wrist had ordered one of the beds taken out in the south wall and the cage built in its place. The thing was stout: a construction of hickory poles, the crosspieces lashed with wet rawhide that shrank into stone-hard bindings as they dried.

Being the Hero of the North, the Four Winds Clan Keeper, and a renowned war leader, apparently Spotted Wrist had no trouble finding people to do his bidding. Seven Skull Shield’s cage had gone up in less than a couple of hands’ time. Built even as he lay, bound like a fish in a net, on the man’s mat floor.

Spotted Wrist had taken no chances. Once the still-naked Seven Skull Shield was placed in the cage, he was left with his hands bound behind him and confined by a short sinew rope that allowed him just enough movement to position himself over the small crudware pot they left in the corner for him to urinate in. Defecation was a more difficult proposition since he had to contort into the most uncomfortable posture.

If he missed, they unlatched the cage door and beat him. These were trained warriors. Men who’d spent their lives swinging war clubs. They had become very good at it. The beatings hurt. Painful enough to make him not want to be beaten again, not so damaging as to leave him crippled.

Spotted Wrist didn’t want that.

“I want you kept as an amusement,” Spotted Wrist had told him that first night when the Keeper had come home late from the Council House. “You’ll die when the time is right. Probably on a square hanged along the Avenue of the Sun somewhere east of Morning Star’s mound. By then you’ll be begging for death. I’ll let the people finish you off. Amazingly cruel, they are. Downright malicious, in fact.”

“What did you offer Willow Blossom?”

“What she wanted all along: luxury. Wait, I see pain in your eyes. Oh, that’s rich. You’re Seven Skull Shield, renowned seducer of women, and you thought she cared about you?”

Spotted Wrist had cocked his head, staring past the bars at Seven Skull Shield, before saying, “You poor deluded fool. You fell all the way for her, didn’t you? All the time you were pining for her, she was playing you for all you were worth. You got her out of that rope-maker’s house, all the way to Night Shadow Star’s palace. And then you got her that final step when she Traded you to me. You were the final price that earned her all she ever wanted.”

Seven Skull Shield’s heart sank. It couldn’t be!

“What about my dog? You kill him?”

“No one’s seen him. The beast turned out to be smarter than you are. He knew when to cut his losses. Must be tough to be you. You’ve been betrayed by the woman you love, abandoned by your dog, Blue Heron sure won’t raise a finger on your behalf—assuming she’d even want to. And as I hear it, most of your friends on the waterfront could care less if you lived or died.”

And then the man had turned on his heel, sat atop his dais, and had eaten dinner while he and his warriors shared jokes, sent taunts Seven Skull Shield’s way, and watched him squirm uncomfortably on the short tether that bound his wrists behind him.

Food was offered twice a day, one of Spotted Wrist’s slaves reaching past the bars with a horn spoon full of stew or extending bits of bread just far enough that Seven Skull Shield could grab them with his teeth.

Nights were agonizing. The tether allowed Seven Skull Shield just enough room so he could perch on his knees, back wedged in the corner of the cage.

During the day, the warriors, who were constantly passing through, did their best to humiliate him, spitting on him, poking at his exposed genitals with sharp or burning sticks, or dousing him with water. Spotted Wrist had precluded the tossing of anything that smelled bad or was too foul.

Willow Blossom arrived on the third night, escorted into the great room just after nightfall. She barely cast Seven Skull Shield a glance as she shared pleasantries with Spotted Wrist, enjoyed a wonderful supper, and let the Keeper lead her into his personal quarters.

Seven Skull Shield winced, could imagine with perfect clarity what the Hero of the North was enjoying.

How could I have been so blind?

His cramped posture hurt even more than usual. Unable to sleep, his scattered thoughts were interrupted by the occasional faint squeal of delight coming from Spotted Wrist’s personal quarters. The warriors sleeping on the surrounding benches would chuckle softly, and then turn over.

He finally slept.

Seemed like Seven Skull Shield had barely closed his eyes when a loud clatter started him awake. He jumped, pulling his strained arms painfully behind him. His legs had gone to sleep and wouldn’t hold him.

Blinking his bleary vision clear, he fixed on Willow Blossom as she ran a stick along the bars, the clattering loud in the room. She was staring down at him, that old familiar gleam of excitement in her eyes.

“Have a good night?” he rasped hoarsely.

“He’s not the best I’ve ever had, but I can make do.” She paused. “He has wonderful things.”

“What did he give you?”

“For you? A nice house just a little to the east. Close to the Grand Plaza. It belonged to one of the Panther Clan nobles who backed Slender Fox and Wolverine when they were going to take Morning Star’s mound with warriors last fall. Oh, and he gave me a couple of boxes of Night Shadow Star’s things that I liked. Enough to see me through for a while.”

“Those aren’t his to give.”

“And Lady Night Shadow Star isn’t here to object.” Willow Blossom studied her fingernails thoughtfully.

“Did you care nothing for me?” His heart skipped, waiting for her answer.

“You’re a man. No different from any of the rest of them.”

“Got news for you, Spotted Wrist’s a man, too.”

She smiled, her face shifting into the excited and animated glow he’d fallen in love with. Her lips bent into their familiar soft hint of anticipation. Her eyes seemed to expand, to sparkle just for him. “He is, isn’t he?”

At her loving expression, he felt a leap of relief. “If you really care for me, I need you to do something for me. I just need you to—”

“You can rot, thief.” And just as quickly the look of joy and anticipation vanished, replaced by a blank emptiness. “You humiliated him. He’s not going to forget.”

“But I love you. I’d do anything—”

“Men are so easy. Just give them a smile”—the loving, enchanted look was back, warm love reflected from her eyes—“and they’re like potter’s clay in my fingers.”

The look of blank emptiness was back again. “Hope it’s quick for you.”

She turned to leave.

“You’re telling me I didn’t mean anything to you? I was just a convenience?”

She shot a look over her shoulder. “Never had a man send sparks through my sheath the way you did. But a person can’t make a life out of that.” A pause. “After last night, I think I’ll be back on occasion. Don’t bother to act like we’re old friends, all right?”

And then she was out the door.