People of the Morning Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

indicative of fertility, creativity, war, and chaos. She had dominion over the waters and plants. The Spirit creatures of the Underworld including the Water Panther known as Piasa; the flying snake called Horned Serpent; Snapping Turtle, fish, and frogs answered to First Woman. So, too, did the Tie Snakes who guarded springs, lurked in the depths of the rivers, and invoked the rains; even though doing so infuriated the Thunderbirds, who unleashed lightning bolts in their constant battle with the Powers of the Underworld.
    Right Hand narrowed his eyes as he studied the distant high mound. In a husky voice he said, “It is said in the old stories that at the Creation, First Being, Hunga Ahuito, took the form of a mottled, two-headed eagle. Capable of seeing in all directions at once with its four eyes, and being male and female, it orchestrated all things, ruling even the sun, rainbows, and thunderers. Now Morning Star claims he rules the sky.”
    “But is he a god?” Matron Corn Seed paused. “Really? Or has the lie been told so often that it now lives on its own?” She let her gaze fix on the distant pimple-like prominence; even through the haze of a thousand smoking fires, Morning Star’s tall temple atop its great mound couldn’t be missed. And that, from where she stood, was still a hard day’s walk. Between her bluff-top vantage point and the Morning Star’s palace, lived perhaps ten thousand people; their houses, temples, mounds, and fields spread like a poorly woven blanket across the wide floodplain with its curving lakes.
    The chief extended his good left hand in a grand gesture to include the vast and irregular accumulation of humanity. “They believe it. All these simpletons who’ve flocked here to revel in the god’s presence.” He said it bitterly; a smile barely curled his thin lips. “And as long as they do, whatever we believe … the truth, if you will, is meaningless.”
    “It’s not Power, or him, that I fear,” the woman admitted softly. “Even if his Spirit really belongs to the hero god and is reincarnated in that young fool’s body. It’s the Four Winds Clan and that Keeper of theirs who troubles me. Old Blue Heron is like a spider with her bits of web spun everywhere. Make the slightest misstep and an unknown tendril will vibrate just enough to draw her attention.”
    “She’s merely a woman.”
    “You fear Power. I’ve found people are so much more deadly.” She gave him a sidelong appraisal. “Do not underestimate her. Others have. Hung in a square, people scream the voices right out of their throats when strips of skin are peeled slowly from their bodies.”
    “I don’t intend on hanging from a Four Winds Clan square,” he replied, referring to the vertical, open pole frame into which a man’s naked body was tied for torture. “Myself, I’ve taken a lesson from the chickadee.”
    “Oh? Learned to chirp melodically, or just flit about in panicked terror when the sharp-shinned hawk comes diving?”
    His expression soured at her caustic tone. “When a chickadee is hungry, it carefully plucks at a single strand of silk. Spiders can’t help themselves. It’s in their nature to dash out of their holes toward whatever creature is stuck in their web.”
    “You’ve given the problem some thought?”
    He barely lifted a scarred eyebrow. The action shifted the beaded forelock that hung down over his forehead. “When the time comes, the Whisperer will draw the spider into striking distance … play her web like a child’s string game. It’s the Morning Star I’m worried about.” He hesitated before adding, “And whatever agreements he has with the Sky World.”
    She glanced sidelong at him, suspicion in her eyes. “For all you know, our mysterious ‘Whisperer’ might just be the Morning Star himself! I don’t trust him, whoever he is. Never have.”
    Right Hand fixed his eyes on the distant palace, now in shadow from one of the fluffy white clouds that drifted