The People of the Black Sun by W. Michael Gear Read Free Book Online Page A

chief, a man he knew to be a monster. It was a failing she found hard to forgive. Not only that, as War Chief, he had slaughtered Standing Stone villages filled with innocent people, and that was impossible to forgive.
    What was he doing here? She hadn’t had time to assess his motives yet. At a critical instant during the next attack, was he supposed to rally his warriors and start killing people inside the palisade?
    Sindak excused himself from the knot of warriors, and stalked through the bustling crowd to the closest ladder that led to the catwalks. A small commotion broke out as he shouldered past the Standing Stone guards and made his way toward her, crossing the bridges that connected the palisade rings. The guards had orders to treat the Hills warriors as friends, within reason. After all, they’d risked their lives when they’d turned against Chief Atotarho.
    Sindak gave her a tight smile as he approached. He had seen thirty-one summers pass, and had a lean face with deeply sunken brown eyes. Short black hair clung to his cheeks. His tan cape swayed, flashing the white geometric designs that decorated the bottom.
    As he leaned against the palisade beside her, he bluntly said, “You’ve forgotten that I know that look. You think we’re spies, don’t you?”
    â€œThe possibility has occurred to me.”
    Wind fanned the central bonfire and a fog of blue wood smoke blew around them. Sindak waited for it to pass, before he said, “We’re not.”
    â€œThat’s good to hear. However, your word is just not good enough, War Chief. You and your people worry me.”
    His lips pressed into a hard line. “Until yesterday, I had never led an attack against Yellowtail Village. No matter how hard I had to argue in war councils, or what I had to do to bribe warriors to side with me, I did it. The last thing in the world that I wanted was to—”
    â€œâ€˜Until yesterday,’ those are the important words. Just a few hands of time ago you led warriors in an attempt to destroy the Standing Stone nation.” Jigonsaseh extended her palm to the dead bodies stacked along the base of the palisade, then moved it across the decimated villages. The predawn shadows devoured the horrors, but he understood.
    Sindak expelled a breath. “I was overruled in council and given specific orders from High Matron Tila herself. If your Ruling Council had ordered an attack upon my village, Atotarho Village, would you have followed those orders?”
    â€œI would. Without an instant’s hesitation.”
    Sindak’s muscular shoulders relaxed a little, though his face retained its taut expression. “We are warriors. We all do our duty, Matron.”
    She watched him flip up his hood against the falling snow, and tried to fathom what he must be thinking. If their positions had been reversed, she’d be desperately worried whether or not she’d made the right decision. “Statements about duty sound curious coming from a War Chief who abandoned his army and fled to the enemy.”
    Sindak seemed to freeze for a heartbeat, then he turned and gave her a level stare. “Our duties changed when our nation split in two and three Hills villages joined your side. We had to choose where our allegiance lay. We did.”
    Jigonsaseh grunted softly and let her gaze roam the snowy hillside to the west. Dark forms slinked across the white background—wolves feasting upon her relatives. Snarls and growls carried as they competed for corpses.
    â€œTomorrow, if you allow it,” Sindak said, “my warriors and I will help gather the dead bodies of your people, and Sing them to the afterlife. Perhaps that will forge some trust.”
    â€œTrust is not so easily purchased, Sindak. Hundreds of the refugees in the plaza below are from your most recent attack on White Dog Village. They hate you, War Chief.”
    â€œI understand that. I only pray they give us a