They had left a small space clear in their midst. I felt the blood drain from my face as the policeman pushed me into it.
Ever since following the crowd into the plaza I had been nerving myself for the gruesome sight of a freshly exhumed corpse. It was no preparation for what greeted me as I stood by Star’s grave, though.
It had been robbed. The flagstone that we had hauled back into place after backfilling the hole had gone. Loose dark soil was strewn around as if someone had dropped a large sack full of it from a great height. Here and there I noticed smudges that may have been footprints although the soil had been churned up so badly, possibly by the crowd standing around me, that there could be no way of telling who had made them.
There was no sign of the dead woman.
3
Handy had not been part of the crowd. He and Spotted Eagle had kept themselves apart, squatting by the base of the small pyramid at the corner of the plaza. They had both got up and started pushing their way into the centre of the mass of people as soon as I had reached the site of Star’s grave. The first I knew of their appearance was when I heard Handy’s voice snarling my name from somewhere close by.
I glanced at him absently. I was still struggling to understand what I had seen.
‘Yaotl!’ the commoner snapped. ‘Where have you been?’ Neither his expression nor his tone of voice sounded particularly welcoming.
‘You’re relieved to find me safe and well, then,’ I said irritably. Tiredness and the strain of the night’s events had exhausted my patience.
It was Spotted Eagle who answered. ‘You ran away,’ he said scornfully.
It was a mistake to laugh, but I could not help it. The youth’s face and posture were as savage as any warrior’s in the presence of the enemy, the upper lip curled contemptuously, one bare shoulder thrust forward to show off the muscles bunched under the skin, the fists clenched, his hands brought together as though he wielded an imaginary weapon. Yet it was so incongruous, when the back of his head still bore that tuft of hair, the mark of one who had yet to take a captive in battle.
‘Too right, I did!’ I said cheerfully. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t!’
The lad screamed: ‘I didn’t run! I’m a warrior, you bloody coward!’ Then he threw himself at me.
He was young, strong and fast. Nonetheless, if I had been expecting his assault, then I could probably have defended myself, because he had no skill at all. His body crashed into mine, winding him as badly as me, and his hands clawed ineffectually at my throat as he tried to grip it. We both fell over. I was thrown into the man standing behind me, who uttered an explosive grunt as my head drove the air from his lungs, and then I was on the ground, staring at my assailant while his ferocious, snarling, spittle-flecked face filled my vision.
The fight can only have lasted for a few moments before the feeble grip on my throat was released and the body on top of mine hauled clear. My head flopped backwards onto the hard stone floor of the plaza as the face of the policeman swam into view before my misted-up eyes. From beside me came a sound of convulsive sobbing.
‘That’s enough,’ the four-captive warrior said, as I got to my feet, rubbing my bruised neck. He turned to Handy. ‘You obviously know this man.’
The big commoner was looking at his son. Then he passed the backs of his hands over his eyes and shook his head sharply. ‘I do, Cuixtli,’ he admitted. He turned to me. ‘I thought you’d gone back to Lily’s house. Where did you go? What happened? And did you see Flower Gatherer?’
A muttering in the crowd told me that I had an attentive audience for whatever I was going to say next. There was silence then, broken only by a faint snuffling from Spotted Eagle.
At least the policeman now had a name. ‘Cuixtli’ meant Kite; a good choice, if his eyes were as sharp and all-seeing as they ought to be.
‘Flower Gatherer’s missing, then,’ I said in a low voice.
‘No,’ said Kite heavily. ‘We just like to play this guessing game with strangers. We ask you where someone is for no reason at all. Then if we don’t care for your answer we put you in a cage and prod you with spears until you come up with one we like. Of course he’s missing! Would Handy have asked you if he wasn’t?’
I felt wearier than ever; too much so to match wits with this large, powerful man in the middle of his own parish, when he was surrounded by friends and loyal followers. I mumbled an account of my night’s adventures, aware all the time of all the eyes upon me, glittering with barely suppressed hostility. Each of them felt as though he himself had been attacked and was eager to retaliate. They might easily turn their anger on the only stranger in their midst.
I wondered what would happen if they believed that I had brought the trouble upon them. The thought made me hesitate, faltering at the point in my story where I was cowering in the maize bin.
Someone took the opportunity to interrupt me with a question. I recognised the voice as that of the old man I had spoken to on the way to the marketplace. ‘You said this monster was following you. Where from?’
‘It must have been from here, unless it picked up the trail earlier. The midwives though they saw something strange following Star’s funeral procession. It could have followed me all the way from Handy’s house.’
‘Why? And why
