him under? You can thank your own doctor MaGrath. It’s a grayish
powder. I don’t know what it’s called, but I was warned not to give out more
than three fingers of it.”
“Ah-ha. I know it well,” Atty chuckled. It wasn’t
but a couple of years ago when the physician had given her the same stuff to
help her get over the brutal attack made on her by the now-deceased Tosh Karv.
She glanced at the wounded man, noting his pale color, but he appeared stable.
“We’re making good time.”
“Yep.” It was all Fortune would say. Apparently the
man wanted some time to himself. Deciding this would not be a good time to
bring up the subject, she got up and wandered back to the fire. It wasn’t until
hours later, when the Mutah leader called a halt and had them set up camp for
the night, that she finally ventured to speak her mind.
“Fortune, I have a suggestion.”
The man tossed a bone from one of the squirrels
they’d cooked into the ground. The rib stood straight up, with half of it
partially buried in the dirt. “I knew something’s been eating at you all day.
It must be serious.”
She bit her lip, causing Fortune’s eyes to widen.
“I know that look, Atty, and before you say anything, the short answer is no.
To make myself any clearer, the long answer is hell, no.”
“Hear me out first.”
“Damn it, I said no.”
“Fortune!”
“I’ve known you all your life, Atty. I can tell
when you’re planning something from a mile away. I hate to be crude, but my
answer is still fuck it, no.”
“Those pines came from the south!” she nearly
yelled.
Around them, the other hunters, including the two
soldiers, listened attentively, but no one dared to intervene. Fortune threw
another rib into the ground, burying it in the dirt directly next to the first
bone. “So they came from the south. Animals migrate. They move, and they keep
moving in order to search for food. It’s basic science.”
“I think our coming across the pines was a fluke.
You know as well as I do that if you’re fishing in a pond, the difference
between landing a nice catch and drowning worms could be inches,” she insisted.
Paxton finally broke in. “I’m sorry, but I’m lost.
What are you two talking about?”
“Atty wants to keep hunting,” Renken answered.
“Isn’t that right?”
The Second shook his head. “I don’t see the
problem. Once we get back to the compound—”
Fortune glared at the man. “She doesn’t want to
wait for us to get back to Alta Novis.” Turning back to Atty, he put on his
best my-decision-is-final-and-there-will-be-no-further-arguing face that she
recognized from years of dealing with it. “You will remain with us until we
reach the compound. Then you can discuss this issue with your husband.”
Atty felt the slow burn start in her gut and move
up to her face.
Paxton gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Bad
move, Fortune. Do you honestly believe the Battle Lord can sway her, once she’s
set her mind to do something?”
“Let her at least have her say,” Meesel suggested.
The Mutah hunter tossed a third rib bone into the
dirt. Now there were three of them, all lined up neatly and orderly, and all at
the same height, like pikes in a row.
Atty took a deep breath. “All right. Here’s what
I’ve been thinking. I noticed the tracks led south. What if we’ve been missing
good-sized game by a mile or so? What if we went south a ways, then continued
east from there?”
“You’re talking more than a couple of days,”
Fortune noted.
“True, but at least a couple of days more could
give us some idea as to whether or not we want to press onward.” She waved a
hand toward the travois bearing the carcasses. “There’s nearly a thousand
pounds of meat over there. How long do you think it’ll last, huh? Berta feeds,
what? Five to six hundred soldiers three times a day, and that’s not counting
the families without hunters who are forced to rely on the cut they receive.
Even