On the Watch lifted his left hand and swung it around. The remaining men formed a circle around the two messengers. On the Watch prodded Burnt Hair and Holds the Door Open with the butt of his spear.

“Run,” he said.

The eight men, the two delegates and the six warriors encircling them, began to run. Not as fast as Over the Creek had been running, but at a quick trot, through the hills and down into the valley.

Staying back where he could not be seen, Okwaho followed. He knew what he was doing was foolish. If any of those warriors heard him, the first thing they might do would be to shoot their arrows in his direction. They might even kill his father and Burnt Hair, thinking that they had been deceived and that a raiding party was sneaking up on them.

I should turn back, Okwaho thought. But he did not.

No further words were spoken, even as the Onondaga warriors and their two prisoners ran past the main gate. They took the small, winding trail that led up and to the left of the palisaded village where more than a thousand people lived in the nine clan longhouses. Wolf, Turtle, Beaver, Snipe, Heron, Deer, Eel, Bear, and Hawk.

Okwaho knew where the trail they were on was leading. They were heading to Atatarho’s Rock.

The big stone that thrust itself out of the earth in a large clearing was where Atatarho sat whenever he called a council meeting or had anyone brought before him. At that place he made the decisions that brought life to some and death to others.

Okwaho began to feel a little hopeful when he realized that that was where his father and Burnt Hair were being taken. It meant their message would be listened to.

But, he thought, it might also mean that they will be killed there.

Sure enough, just as expected, when they reached the clearing Atatarho was there, seated on his great, long stone. But he did not turn to look at them. His gaze was toward the wide waters of Onondaga Lake, which could be seen behind him. Nothing moved on the lake. Not a bird or a wave.

Atatarho’s face was as expressionless as the rock itself. He gave no sign that he was aware of their arrival as the two men came to a stop before the stone. Then Atatarho turned his head toward them. His dark eyes stared at them with a gaze like that of a monster bear about to leap on its prey and tear it apart. The men who had escorted them there stepped quickly away and moved to stand on either side of the most powerful of all the Longhouse Nation chiefs, who continued to stare down at the two messengers.