Dancer to enter before she proceeded.
In a low voice, Feather Dancer said, “High Matron, this is Raider. He comes as emissary from Chief Sand Conch, high chief of the Loon Council.”
Wink strode across the floor to greet him, and to her surprise
he gracefully dropped to his knees and kissed her sandals, saying, “I understand, High Matron, that this is a sign of respect among your people.”
“Yes, it is. I appreciate the gesture, but it was not necessary, Raider. Please rise.”
He grunted as he got to his feet and seemed to be favoring his right hip. The rapid two-day trip from the Loon Nation had apparently left it aching.
Wink held out a hand to the sitting mats spread around the fire in the center of the Feather Dancer’s house. “Please, sit and have some tea. I’m sure you had a difficult journey.”
“Yes, it seems my aging body is no longer well-suited to skulking through the underbrush in the Black Falcon Nation.”
Feather Dancer crouched and dipped up two cups of tea from the pot resting on the hearthstones. As he handed one to her, then one to Raider, he said, “Matron, do you wish me to remain, or stand outside the door?”
“Remain, War Chief. I may need your advice.”
Feather Dancer nodded, but he remained standing while she and Raider settled onto mats. No one was certain what to expect, least of all Wink. She was in unknown waters, floundering for a shore she could not even see, let alone imagine the coastline of.
“High Matron,” Raider said in a mild elderly voice, “Chief Sand Conch wishes me to tell you that he received your message and looks forward to the arrival of your peace emissary. He is grateful that you wish to end the war, but he does not understand. If you did not wish a war, why did you attack one of our villages, burn it to the ground, and hunt down every fleeing survivor you could find? These do not sound like the actions of a woman seeking peace.”
Wink gave him a short nod. “The attack was not under my
orders, Raider; in fact it went against the orders of our Council of Elders. The attack was undertaken strictly by the Water Hickory Clan. They alone are responsible.”
His brows lifted. “I see. And what should we tell our people? That the Black Falcon Council of Elders cannot control its own clans?”
Feather Dancer took a step forward, prepared to defend her against the insult, but Wink held up a hand. “No, War Chief, Raider’s question is fair.”
Raider tipped his head in gratitude, but said, “High Matron, would it be possible to have the war chief guard the door? I would hate to have him crush my skull out of some reflex before we’d finished our discussion.”
Wink nodded to Feather Dancer, and he went to stand by the door.
She looked Raider over more carefully. Chief Sand Conch had chosen his messenger well. The man’s age and mild manner smoothed over the effect of his lightning-charged words.
“Let us speak straightly, Raider.”
“Of course, High Matron.”
She set her untouched tea cup on the hearthstones. “I’m not sure we can control the Water Hickory Clan. I heard only a few days ago that the new clan matron had ordered her warriors to attack Fan Palm Village.”
Raider jerked forward with his eyes wide. “When?”
“I don’t know. The death of Chief Short Tail, who led the attack on Eagle Flute Village, will delay Sea Grass, but she’ll select a new leader very soon. I believe the attack is inevitable.”
He squeezed his eyes closed. It took him a few moments to collect himself. Finally, he asked, “Why do you tell me this?”
Wink waited until he opened his eyes before she said, “Because I need your help to stop it.”
“My help? I don’t understand.”
“The Council of Elders voted not to Outcast Water Hickory Clan from the Black Falcon Nation—it is more afraid of civil war than of war with the Loon Nation—but I will not stand by and watch more innocent people murdered.”
By the door, Feather Dancer
In a low voice, Feather Dancer said, “High Matron, this is Raider. He comes as emissary from Chief Sand Conch, high chief of the Loon Council.”
Wink strode across the floor to greet him, and to her surprise
he gracefully dropped to his knees and kissed her sandals, saying, “I understand, High Matron, that this is a sign of respect among your people.”
“Yes, it is. I appreciate the gesture, but it was not necessary, Raider. Please rise.”
He grunted as he got to his feet and seemed to be favoring his right hip. The rapid two-day trip from the Loon Nation had apparently left it aching.
Wink held out a hand to the sitting mats spread around the fire in the center of the Feather Dancer’s house. “Please, sit and have some tea. I’m sure you had a difficult journey.”
“Yes, it seems my aging body is no longer well-suited to skulking through the underbrush in the Black Falcon Nation.”
Feather Dancer crouched and dipped up two cups of tea from the pot resting on the hearthstones. As he handed one to her, then one to Raider, he said, “Matron, do you wish me to remain, or stand outside the door?”
“Remain, War Chief. I may need your advice.”
Feather Dancer nodded, but he remained standing while she and Raider settled onto mats. No one was certain what to expect, least of all Wink. She was in unknown waters, floundering for a shore she could not even see, let alone imagine the coastline of.
“High Matron,” Raider said in a mild elderly voice, “Chief Sand Conch wishes me to tell you that he received your message and looks forward to the arrival of your peace emissary. He is grateful that you wish to end the war, but he does not understand. If you did not wish a war, why did you attack one of our villages, burn it to the ground, and hunt down every fleeing survivor you could find? These do not sound like the actions of a woman seeking peace.”
Wink gave him a short nod. “The attack was not under my
orders, Raider; in fact it went against the orders of our Council of Elders. The attack was undertaken strictly by the Water Hickory Clan. They alone are responsible.”
His brows lifted. “I see. And what should we tell our people? That the Black Falcon Council of Elders cannot control its own clans?”
Feather Dancer took a step forward, prepared to defend her against the insult, but Wink held up a hand. “No, War Chief, Raider’s question is fair.”
Raider tipped his head in gratitude, but said, “High Matron, would it be possible to have the war chief guard the door? I would hate to have him crush my skull out of some reflex before we’d finished our discussion.”
Wink nodded to Feather Dancer, and he went to stand by the door.
She looked Raider over more carefully. Chief Sand Conch had chosen his messenger well. The man’s age and mild manner smoothed over the effect of his lightning-charged words.
“Let us speak straightly, Raider.”
“Of course, High Matron.”
She set her untouched tea cup on the hearthstones. “I’m not sure we can control the Water Hickory Clan. I heard only a few days ago that the new clan matron had ordered her warriors to attack Fan Palm Village.”
Raider jerked forward with his eyes wide. “When?”
“I don’t know. The death of Chief Short Tail, who led the attack on Eagle Flute Village, will delay Sea Grass, but she’ll select a new leader very soon. I believe the attack is inevitable.”
He squeezed his eyes closed. It took him a few moments to collect himself. Finally, he asked, “Why do you tell me this?”
Wink waited until he opened his eyes before she said, “Because I need your help to stop it.”
“My help? I don’t understand.”
“The Council of Elders voted not to Outcast Water Hickory Clan from the Black Falcon Nation—it is more afraid of civil war than of war with the Loon Nation—but I will not stand by and watch more innocent people murdered.”
By the door, Feather Dancer
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