The Dawn Country by W. Michael Gear Read Free Book Online Page B

time to rest. They’re right behind us. If you value your lives, you’ll collect your belongings and join us.”
    Gonda’s head jerked up. He’d said your lives, not life. So he knew Gonda was not alone. Had he glimpsed Sindak and Towa? “Who’s behind you?”
    “Dawnland warriors.”
    “Survivors from the Bog Willow Village attack?”
    “Probably.”
    Gonda slowly got to his feet. “Who are you?”
    “I am Cord, of the Turtle clan of the Flint People, war chief of Wild River Village. Or at least, I was.”
    Gonda’s hackles rose. Cord’s men still hadn’t come in. Was Cord the decoy for the pack? Was he supposed to keep Gonda busy while the rest of his men surrounded the camp, cutting off escape? How many were out there? Gonda clenched his uplifted hands to fists. “Why are they chasing you? Were you part of the war party that destroyed Bog Willow Village?”
    Cord nodded. “Yes.”
    “Why did you attack them?”
    Through gritted teeth, Cord answered, “They destroyed my village, Wild River Village, eight days ago, but I don’t have time to explain everything.” He used his chin to gesture to the places in the forest where Sindak, Towa, and Koracoo hid and said, “Since your friends have not killed me, I assume you are all bystanders in this, though I can’t fathom what you’re doing this deep in Dawnland country. Either join us or let us pass. A fight will help neither of us.”
    Gonda lowered his hands, and called, “Koracoo? Everyone? Come out.”
    “Koracoo?” Cord said, and clutched his war club more tightly. “War Chief Koracoo of Yellowtail Village?”
    Koracoo stepped out, eyed him hostilely, and said, “That’s right.”
    They faced each other like two stiff-legged dogs about to lunge for the other’s throat. Cord stared hard at CorpseEye, Koracoo’s war club. It was old and made from a dark wood that did not grow in their country. Legend said that CorpseEye had once belonged to Sky Woman herself. Strange images were carved on the shaft: antlered wolves, winged tortoises, and prancing buffalo. A red quartzite cobble was hafted to the top of the club, making it a very deadly weapon—one Koracoo wielded with great expertise. Throughout their territories, CorpseEye was known as a frightening magical weapon, capable of sniffing out enemies even at great distances.
    Cord spread his arms in a gesture of surrender and said, “I have never met you in battle, and hope I never have to. I know your reputation for courage.”
    “And I know yours, War Chief Cord. I also have dreaded the possibility that we would, someday, meet. Are you headed home?”
    “Yes, we—”
    Sindak and Towa pushed out of the trees, herding the four children before them, and the expression on Cord’s face swiftly changed. He looked like a man who’d just been condemned to death.
    “Blessed gods,” he said. “You have children with you?” His gaze went over the two boys and two girls, as though assessing their ages and how fast they could run. “If you don’t want Dawnland filth feeding them to their dogs, you should come with us. Now. ” He lifted a hand and called, “Dzadi? Ogwed? Come out.”
    Two warriors stepped from the trees. The first thing Gonda noticed was their empty quivers. Then he saw the men. The big bear of a man had a wide, heavy jaw and pink burn scars mottling his face and hands. He slitted his brown eyes menacingly. The other warrior was young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen summers. He had a catlike face, with a broad nose. Both men had to lock their trembling knees to keep standing.
    “How long have they been chasing you?” Gonda dumped out the boiling bag, rolled it, and tucked it into his belt. Then he slung his pack over his shoulder and cautiously picked up his war club.
    “For just a few hands of time, but we haven’t slept in two and a half days. Now, hurry, they’re coming.” Cord swung around to look up the mountain trail.
    “How many are there?”
    “Twenty. Maybe