The Broken Land Read Online Free PDF Page A

here.”
    The warrior trotted to Deru. “Yes, War Chief?”
    Deru ordered, “Take your men. Follow the riverbank south. Find Sky Messenger.”
    Utz glanced down at the moccasin prints and swallowed hard. “But, Deru, I don’t care what it looks like, I—I don’t believe it. He must have been taken hostage!”
    Sky Messenger’s mother, Koracoo, was Deru’s closest friend, and his former war chief. She’d nominated Deru to replace her when she’d been elected as Speaker for the Women of Yellowtail Village. Blessed Spirits, please let Sky Messenger be a hostage; then he’ll only have to live down the jeers and taunts of friends asking how a bunch of women and children managed to subdue him . He’d be the butt of jokes for a time, but he’d be alive. Unless the Flint women killed him before he could escape. On the other hand, if he had not been taken hostage …
    “Do you believe it?” Utz asked. “That he betrayed—”
    “If you keep standing here flapping your jaws, we’ll never know, will we?”
    “But War Chief, he’s as loyal as I am. He couldn’t—”
    Deru gripped his arm hard. “If it looks like he’s a hostage, give him the benefit of the doubt. If it’s clear he’s leading them … or running from us …” He didn’t finish the sentence.
    Utz nervously licked his lips. “I understand.”
    The punishment for treason was death.
    Out in the river, water splashed over rocks, kicking up spray. Streamers of white foam frosted the waves as they rushed downstream toward the lands of the Flint People.
    “Be back by tomorrow at noon,” Deru ordered. “We will wait for you until then. Now move.”
    Utz backed away, calling to his search party, “Follow me! We’re heading down the river.”
    With narrowed eyes, Deru watched the seven men trot away. On the opposite shore maples swayed in the icy breeze. Snowflakes had started to fall, featherlike, softly alighting on the branches. A crystalline sparkle lit the air.
    “He’s not a hostage,” Deru whispered as he looked down at the clear tracks in the mud. “Why did he do it? He must have known the consequences.”
    Deru gripped his war club. He would rather face an entire Flint war party than call Koracoo’s son a traitor.
    He trudged back up the bank and out into the firelit meadow. His men stood in a semicircle waiting for him. Snow had already begun to frost their shoulders and heads. Their hushed voices sounded like the low hiss of a snake.
    “Are all the captives gone?” one man called. “Two were mine!”
    “Four belonged to my clan!” another man called.
    “Where’s Sky Messenger? Is he dead?”
    Deru held up his hands to still the assault. “We know nothing yet. Go back to your suppers. Eat and sleep. We will remain here until Utz and his search party return. We won’t have any answers until then.”
    Deru strode through the mumbling crowd and straight back to where Wampa held the two women. When she saw him coming, Wampa rose, clutching her war club. “War Chief, they say they are not from this village. They saw the smoke at dusk and came to find out what had happened.”
    He grunted. Wrinkles carved lines around the older woman’s mouth and furrowed her forehead. Gray-streaked black hair clung damply to her sunken cheeks.
    Deru crouched before her. “Who are you?”
    The old woman chuckled. She’d seen perhaps forty summers and had an air of authority about her. She was accustomed to respect, which meant she had wielded power in her village.
    He said, “Don’t lie to me. I know you were one of our captives.”
    Her lips curled into a contemptuous smile. “That means nothing to me.”
    “It will. Soon. I plan to question your friend first.” He gestured to the second, younger, woman, who had seen perhaps twenty-five summers. “Is that what you wish? Your silence will cause her great pain.”
    The old woman’s nostrils trembled with loathing. “You can’t hurt us now. Those we love are safe.”
    “For a while. But