Sixty-seven
“Did you hear what that old camp bitch said? Lectured me, did she? On my responsibilities as Four Winds Clan Keeper? Pus and blood, who does she think she is?” Spotted Wrist ranted as he strode back and forth before his palace fire.
He kept glaring stilettos of rage at the broken and empty cage along the south wall.
Rising Flame stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed. As she watched him pace, she said, “She’s the tonka’tzi. Daughter of Black Tail and Magic Woman, aunt to Chunkey Boy, the young man who now hosts Morning Star’s souls in his human body.”
She had inspected the broken cage earlier, noticed the severed rawhide bindings. She’d been around long enough, had traveled through the southern lands, to know something about cages. The like were built for bears. Not easy to take apart. Someone had been sawing at the bindings for some time before enough had been cut to free the prisoner.
Did that mean Blue Heron or Columella had someone inside Spotted Wrist’s palace? If so, who?
“I mean it,” she told him. “You back off of those women. If you pursue this, it will end in a war between the Houses.”
He shot her a sidelong glance. “North Star House and Horned Serpent House are already infuriated. Times were lean enough—and being forced by Blue Heron to send a portion of their stores to Columella was like sticking cactus thorns into an open wound. Now they’re weaker. Columella is stronger. She has actually sent messengers out to her squadrons, ordered them to prepare for an immediate callout should I march my squadrons on Evening Star Town.”
He raised knotted fists. “Back in spring, had she made such an announcement, the Earth Clans in her area would have raised a merry howl, refused, backed that cousin of hers, um…”
“His name is Red Hail. You’re supposed to know these things, keep track of these people. He’s in the best position to ever depose her.”
“Well, he’d have stopped this nonsense on the spot.”
“You do remember why she loaned that food in the first place? Something about a burned warehouse for the Cofitachequi expedition?”
The look he gave her was full of rebuke. “What’s past is past.”
“There, finally! I agree. Now, leave this nonsense behind. Blue Heron, Columella, and the thief have won this round. Part of politics is knowing when to accept you’ve been bested and move on to the battles you can win.”
“Can you believe Blue Heron? The hag ran to her sister?” He turned his voice falsetto: “Sister, sister, the Keeper tore up my palace. Save me, save me.”
Rising Flame cocked her head, studying the man. “Did you whine like this in front of Blood Talon, Nutcracker, and your squadrons?”
“No!” Spotted Wrist stepped close, thrust a clenched fist under her nose. “I gave them orders, we re-formed the ranks, and we marched on our enemies in order to destroy them. That’s what you do, Matron. You destroy enemies.”
“Do you also listen to orders from your superiors?”
“Don’t be silly. That’s what war leaders do.”
“The tonka’tzi gave you an order.”
“She’s on her sister’s side. One of them.”
“Then I’m giving you an order: Leave this be.”
“Thought you were tired of Black Tail’s lineage having all the authority and prestige. Thought you wanted them cut down to size.”
“I do.” She gave him a smoky gaze of reprimand. “But you need to dig the wax out of your ears. The tonka’tzi gave you some very good advice. She told you that the Keeper’s position was not a blunt weapon.”
“Yes, yes, the thing about the keen obsidian blade.”
“Can you learn that?”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t when Blue Heron tried to teach you last fall.”
“The woman was full of lies. Jealous. You don’t know. Cunning old sheath that she is, she was setting me up to fail.”
“That’s why you kicked her out?”
“Do you think I’m a fool?”
She just gave him a cold smile. “Forget this grudge match with Blue Heron, Columella, and the thief. Move on. You have a potential disaster looming in River House. Keep that from blowing up, and we’ll talk some more.”
He gave her a slight nod, a broken smile on his lips and some unspoken promise deep behind his eyes.