Eighty-four

Trade had been about as good as it got. That was the thing about having the warriors from two squadrons encamped in the vicinity of River Mounds City. Not that Robin Feather cared about the politics. In the end it wouldn’t matter if it was War Duck, Broken Stone, or Three Fingers, he would still have to surrender a percentage of his Trade. That’s what chiefs did, they took a piece.

The sack on Robin Feather’s back rattled reassuringly as the clam-shells in the bottom shifted. The rest of it was stuffed full of hanging moss from way down south. Not that he depended upon either for his rope making, but he could Trade them for things he did need.

Yes, it had been a good day.

He wound his way through the warehouses, past Gray Mouse’s arrow-making shop, rounded the stone grinder’s, and stopped short. The dog was missing. The heavy stake he’d driven into the ground still stood there, and a rope lay abandoned on the dirt beside his spinning jig.

He hurried forward, growling under his breath. Which was when he noticed that the door to his workshop had been set to one side.

“Piss in a pot, that was part of what the dog was for. Keeping people out of my workshop!”

He glanced around, seeing old Flat-and-Wide where he sat on a stool beside a pile of cattail leaves that he was plaiting into matting. The old man had a small shop where he Traded matting for the few things he needed now that his wife had died and his children had traveled off to some colony up north.

“Hey! You seen my dog?”

The old man, hard of hearing, didn’t react until Robin Feather was standing over him. “Where’s my dog?”

Flat-and-Wide blinked his rheumy eyes, squinted over. “Oh, yes. I see your dog’s missing.”

“Did you see who took him?”

“No. No. I had to go to the canoe landing. Needed to Trade for a loaf of acorn bread. You want some? Got enough for a couple of days.”

Robin Feather lifted his free hand in despair, turned, and plodded back to his shop. The building was long, roofed with split cane, and oriented to the same celestial direction as the rest of the buildings in River Mounds City.

He stepped inside; the late-afternoon light was streaming through the gap between the walls and roof. The first thing he noticed was his latest basswood rope, still on his spinning jig. If anyone was going to take anything, it would have been that.

He set his sack of Trade to one side—and caught movement as the big brindle dog dropped onto its butt and scratched, its ears flopping. “There you are! I ought to bash your thick-skulled head in. I swear, I’ll throw you in the stewpot as soon as look at you. How’d you get loose, anyway?”

The dog ambled up, lifted its leg, and peed on the pole that supported his spinning jig.

“Hey! Piasa curse you!”

He grabbed up one of the wooden blocks he used to separate fibers, cocked his arm, and took aim to throw it when a voice in the back said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Well, it’s my shop. My dog.”

“Farts, come here,” the voice called.

The big dog bounded to the rear, leaping into the shadowed man’s arms. What looked like a wrestling match ensued. The big man laughing, growling playfully with the dog, and finally ordering, “Down, beast. Down.”

Then he rose and stepped into the shaft of sunlight.

“You!” Robin Feather turned, dropped the block, and grabbed up a thick wooden mallet he used to beat raw stock into fibers.

“Whoa!” Seven Skull Shield thrust his arms out, hands wide. “Hear me out. Look.” He pointed.

Robin Feather followed the finger to see three thick coils of rope about midway down his floor.

“I heard you offered three fine coils of basswood rope to anyone who could find me. Well, you made all three of them. That’s the price, right? So, I’m Trading for myself.”

“That wasn’t the point. But I’ll take them. Still doesn’t mean I’m not beating you to death for what you did with Willow Blossom. Do you know what that did to me?”

“Stop it! In the first place, you’re not a kind, loving, and caring husband. You’re a narrow-minded, self-concerned, walking piece of human dung who can’t see past the latest piece of rope he’s making and what it will get you. I’m surprised you didn’t kill Farts just to get back at me.”

“Bah! That was the idea. I needed him alive. Want you to see me smack him in the head before I throw him in the stewpot. As refreshing as it would have been to pay you back by eating him first thing, it will be so much better if you’re watching while I do it.”

“Maybe I’ll take those ropes with me when I go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Seven Skull Shield’s grin had an evil twist, a gleaming promise in his eyes as he stepped close. “You want to take a try with that hammer? Now, me, I’ve been beat up, burned, poked, kept in a cage, watched a lot of bad things happen to people I like. So, I come here. Figure I’m going to make amends. Tell you I’m sorry. Let you know that the woman you took into your bed is a spider. One of them kind that eats the men she lets into her sheath. She’s trouble, Robin Feather. For whoever is in her bed at the moment.”

“She was mine!” He thumped his chest.

“She would have eaten you alive! She played you like a fine eagle-bone flute. She played me. Now she’s playing Spotted Wrist.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Not that I mind her milking him for everything he’s got. But for once, she might have bit off more than a mouthful.”

“She’s with him?”

Seven Skull Shield nodded, lips pursed. “You were a stepping stone to get her away from Moon Mounds. I was another stone to get her from you to Night Shadow Star’s, and she gave me up to get into Spotted Wrist’s bed. If she talks the war leader into getting her into Morning Star’s blankets … well, that will be a whole new angle of impossible.”

Robin Feather took a deep breath. “I should still beat the spit out of you. Just on principle.”

Seven Skull Shield grinned. “How about we let that be our secret. There’s your rope. Tell people you and I got even. That you’re no longer after my scarred and bruised hide.”

“You do look a bit beat up.”

“Thanks to Willow Blossom. Do we have a Trade? Me for the ropes?”

“Where’d you get them?”

“Do you know how hard it is to steal one of your ropes? Took all my skill. People really value them.”

“You’re giving me stolen ropes?”

“Are you telling me you can’t Trade them for just as much as you got the first time? Oh, but don’t tell anybody where you got them. That’s got to be part of the deal.”

“I must be out of my head.”

“Come on, Farts. We’ve got work to do. And, at least for a while, we don’t need to be looking over our shoulder all the time while we’re doing it.”

Robin Feather shook his head, watched the big man amble out of his doorway, the brindle flop-eared dog leaping and cavorting at his side.

Seven Skull Shield threw his head back, singing, “She gives lots of hugs, her breasts big as jugs. I up and laughed as she grabbed at my shaft.”

And then he was gone.