O-doddo-ua said nothing; but the black mantle never lightened its shade.
After a moment, Kopporu made the gesture of acceptance.
“So be it, if that is your wish. But, understand this, O-doddo-ua: the decision is not mine to make. I am a battle leader only. You and your people cannot be adopted into the Kiktu without the consent of the entire tribe, in full tribal assembly. My clan is a small one, and the clan leaders are not—”
She stopped abruptly. O-doddo-ua whistled.
“Are not alive,” she finished the thought. O-doddo-ua waved her palp to the south. “Or not much longer. All the clan leaders are gathered in the center, with the mothers. You will be the new clan leader, Kopporu. And your clan will now be the greatest of the Kiktu.”
“Still . . .” She made the gesture of resignation. “I will do what I can, O-doddo-ua. The decision must still be made by the tribe as a whole. I will speak for you, that I can promise. But that may not be of any use. I myself will have to stand trial, at the next assembly. For treason and murder. My words may harm your cause more than they help it.”
“We will take our chances. By then, much will have changed. The warriors will be shocked by your actions, once they understand what has happened here. Appalled, even. But by then, they will have spent time in the swamp.”
“So?”
“So—the swamp has a way of teaching one to distinguish what is important from what is frivolous. And they will no longer despise we swamp-dwellers.”
O-doddo-ua turned away.
“You will see, battle leader. You will see.”
No sooner had O-doddo-ua left the command circle than Lukpudo entered. The battle leader of the Opoktu was bearing a new wound. But it was a slight wound, and would soon be lost in the welter of other scars which crisscrossed her mantle.
Kopporu watched Lukpudo approach with a mixture of fondness and deep regret. Fondness, for her trust in the Opoktu had not been mislaid—the small tribe had fought well and valiantly. Deep regret, for their loyalty was now to be repaid by treachery. Kopporu would attempt, at the last moment, to keep a way open for the Opoktu to follow her into the swamp, should they so choose. But she had not confided in them, and she knew that they would be too confused to act quickly enough.
She noticed that Lukpudo gave only the briefest glance at the bodies of the two murdered battle leaders as she approached. Lukpudo’s indifference puzzled her. It was obvious the two battle leaders had been slain here, not on the battlefield.
The mystery was resolved at once, and Kopporu found herself astonished for the second time that day.
“When do we make our retreat into the swamp?” asked Lukpudo.
The Opoktu battle leader whistled amusement at Kopporu’s orange.
“The Kiktu leaders may be stupid, Kopporu, but our clan leaders are most assuredly not. It’s one of the advantages, you know, to being a small tribe. You have to be smarter.”
“You knew?”
Another whistle.
“Not exactly. We have been planning the same maneuver ourselves. I almost raised the subject with you, once. But you’re such an upright sort that I decided it best not to. I could not afford, you understand, to be denounced. But I began suspecting what you were up to when I saw the swamp-dwellers you were collecting around. There could only be one logical explanation for their presence.”
Lukpudo made the gesture of derision, coupled with a swift yellow ripple across her mantle. The combination expressed exactly the same sentiments that a human would express with a snort.
“Leaving aside that ridiculous spawn’s tale you were spreading about the danger of an Utuku sweep through the swamp. So I started watching you closely. You—and Aktako. I knew that if you were planning something, she would be in the thick of it. When I saw the hand-picked flails she assembled, I knew. You have never been one of those battle leaders who wants to be surrounded by a mob of personal guards. So why now? And why those guards?—all of whom I recognized as one of Aktako’s old cronies? Who may no longer be the swiftest warriors on the field, but who are certainly the most deadly.