The moment Drouillard saw Thotohonga’s eyes, his nape tingled. Thotohonga, whose name meant War Maker, or Partisan, was almost sparking with mean spirits. His eyes were like a snake’s, cold and darting. He was sinewy and handsome, with jutting cheekbones and narrow chin, but his upper lip curved in a sneer over his prominent front teeth. The principal chief, T’tanka Sapa, Black Buffalo, appeared a solid and civil man. His cheeks were pitted by pox and much weathered. He was tense and wary, holding something in, and Drouillard sensed that Black Buffalo did not want Partisan to catch him smiling at these whitemen. There was something bad between them, whether an old animosity or something particular to this meeting, and it extended to their bodyguards, who hovered outside the council circle. The third chief, T’tanka Wakan, Buffalo Medicine, seemed to be aware of the silent conflict, but revealed no sign of being on one side or the other. He would be one to watch for clues to the others.
