me.”
Sora put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “It must have been difficult, losing your parents, then your family, and finally the one person you thought loved you.”
Strongheart started to place his hand over hers, but stopped midway with his fingers hovering above hers. He grasped his tea cup instead. “He did love me, Chieftess. That’s why he made me go home. I just didn’t understand it at the time. He’d
taught me everything he could. I needed to face the world. I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t forced me to.”
“How long had you been with him?”
“Three winters.”
“Then you were twelve winters old. That hardly seems old enough to face the world, Priest.”
She walked around him and continued up the trail. The velvet touch of the wind stirred the massive beech and oak branches that canopied the trail, scenting the air with a pungent fragrance. She breathed it in. As the day warmed, swarms of insects climbed from their hiding places and created great glittering veils in the sunlit depths of the forest. As she slowed to veer around a fallen tree that blocked the trail, she heard Strongheart’s soft steps come up behind her. Just as she started to step into the brush, he grabbed her arm, and she heard his tea cup thunk on the ground.
“Wh—”
She only got out part of the word before his hand clamped over her mouth, and he leaned down to whisper, “Be very quiet. Look through the berry vines.” He removed his hand and pointed.
At first she saw nothing but the dense tangle of vines; then one of the men moved. He stepped to the left and she could see him. It was Flint. His mouth was moving as though he was talking to someone she couldn’t see.
Sora glanced up at Strongheart and noticed that his gaze was not on Flint, but on the person Flint spoke with. He was much taller than she. He could probably see both men. He looked down at her and mouthed the words, “Get down.”
They both eased to the ground and stretched out on their bellies in the trail. When she started to ask a question, he placed his fingers against her lips and shook his head.
It didn’t take long, perhaps another thirty heartbeats, for the
two men to part. Flint walked off in the direction of camp. The unknown man headed south at a trot, as though in a hurry to leave.
Sora waited until Flint had walked far out of sight before she murmured, “Who was the other man? Did you know him?”
Strongheart shook his head. “But the fine cloth he wore definitely marked him as a member of the Black Falcon Nation.”
“Could you see him clearly? What did he look like?”
“He was a short with hunched shoulders and had rotted front teeth.”
Like a knife had been thrust into her belly, she felt the stab of recognition. But … it couldn’t be … Stammering, she asked, “D-did his nose twitch constantly? Like a trapped rat’s?”
Strongheart nodded. “Yes, do you know him?”
For no apparent reason, her voice shook when she responded, “It might have been Red Raven.”
“Who is he?”
“Sea Grass’ spy.”
“Is she Water Hickory Clan?”
“Yes, she’s the matron of Oak Leaf Village. Flint’s home village. Sea Grass was Skinner’s mother.”
Strongheart moved closer to her to whisper, “How did Red Raven know where to find Flint?”
A sharp pain stabbed right behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead. “Flint told him?”
Strongheart reached out, took her hand, and pulled it away from her forehead. He whispered, “We should go.”
He picked up his cracked cup and dusted it off as he got to his feet. Taking her hand, he silently led her up the trail through the dappled shadows, heading away from camp.
14
WINK WALKED AROUND THE EDGES OF THE BROAD PLAZA, glanced at the chunkey game playing out on the field, and went straight for the War Chief’s Mound with her guard close at her heels. Clearwing’s head kept turning to take in the game, and she could tell he wished he were out there
Sora put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “It must have been difficult, losing your parents, then your family, and finally the one person you thought loved you.”
Strongheart started to place his hand over hers, but stopped midway with his fingers hovering above hers. He grasped his tea cup instead. “He did love me, Chieftess. That’s why he made me go home. I just didn’t understand it at the time. He’d
taught me everything he could. I needed to face the world. I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t forced me to.”
“How long had you been with him?”
“Three winters.”
“Then you were twelve winters old. That hardly seems old enough to face the world, Priest.”
She walked around him and continued up the trail. The velvet touch of the wind stirred the massive beech and oak branches that canopied the trail, scenting the air with a pungent fragrance. She breathed it in. As the day warmed, swarms of insects climbed from their hiding places and created great glittering veils in the sunlit depths of the forest. As she slowed to veer around a fallen tree that blocked the trail, she heard Strongheart’s soft steps come up behind her. Just as she started to step into the brush, he grabbed her arm, and she heard his tea cup thunk on the ground.
“Wh—”
She only got out part of the word before his hand clamped over her mouth, and he leaned down to whisper, “Be very quiet. Look through the berry vines.” He removed his hand and pointed.
At first she saw nothing but the dense tangle of vines; then one of the men moved. He stepped to the left and she could see him. It was Flint. His mouth was moving as though he was talking to someone she couldn’t see.
Sora glanced up at Strongheart and noticed that his gaze was not on Flint, but on the person Flint spoke with. He was much taller than she. He could probably see both men. He looked down at her and mouthed the words, “Get down.”
They both eased to the ground and stretched out on their bellies in the trail. When she started to ask a question, he placed his fingers against her lips and shook his head.
It didn’t take long, perhaps another thirty heartbeats, for the
two men to part. Flint walked off in the direction of camp. The unknown man headed south at a trot, as though in a hurry to leave.
Sora waited until Flint had walked far out of sight before she murmured, “Who was the other man? Did you know him?”
Strongheart shook his head. “But the fine cloth he wore definitely marked him as a member of the Black Falcon Nation.”
“Could you see him clearly? What did he look like?”
“He was a short with hunched shoulders and had rotted front teeth.”
Like a knife had been thrust into her belly, she felt the stab of recognition. But … it couldn’t be … Stammering, she asked, “D-did his nose twitch constantly? Like a trapped rat’s?”
Strongheart nodded. “Yes, do you know him?”
For no apparent reason, her voice shook when she responded, “It might have been Red Raven.”
“Who is he?”
“Sea Grass’ spy.”
“Is she Water Hickory Clan?”
“Yes, she’s the matron of Oak Leaf Village. Flint’s home village. Sea Grass was Skinner’s mother.”
Strongheart moved closer to her to whisper, “How did Red Raven know where to find Flint?”
A sharp pain stabbed right behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead. “Flint told him?”
Strongheart reached out, took her hand, and pulled it away from her forehead. He whispered, “We should go.”
He picked up his cracked cup and dusted it off as he got to his feet. Taking her hand, he silently led her up the trail through the dappled shadows, heading away from camp.
14
WINK WALKED AROUND THE EDGES OF THE BROAD PLAZA, glanced at the chunkey game playing out on the field, and went straight for the War Chief’s Mound with her guard close at her heels. Clearwing’s head kept turning to take in the game, and she could tell he wished he were out there
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