I COULD USE A LITTLE REASSURANCE:
Alboro slurped the coffee loudly and began, "When I was a young
warrior, not so very long ago..." He looked about the circle of
faces reflecting firelight to see if anyone appreciated his
little joke. No one was smiling.
"Hmmphhh..." he continued, "When I was a young warrior, I roamed
through these lands like the wind. I went everywhere. I knew
these hills like the back of my hand."
"Old man," said Ramon, "We don't need your chatter - we need a
way out of here!"
The old man yawned, "You say they are camped behind us?"
Red Cloud nodded. She glanced worriedly at Ramon who was poking
at the fire dispiritedly.
"I see. How do you think they got ahead of us, too?"
Ramon looked up and snapped, "Did you ever think they might know
these hills better than you?"
"Guess I can't do anything, right now," sighed Alboro, "I think
I'm gonna take a nap." He lay back and pulled his serape over
him. He was instantly asleep.
Estrellita crowded against Ramon, as though seeking shelter in
his company.
Ramon touched her shoulder, "I am sorry you had to get caught out
here in this," he said, "Maybe we should have left you at the
village."
Her chin came up in defiance, "Well, I'm not!" she said, "I
belong with you guys!" She touched his fingers, withdrew her
hand and added, "I wanted to ask, though... Are you all right?
Is everything okay?"
"Well, I'm fine," Ramon went back to spreading the coals, "I
could use a little reassurance from old Abuelo, there. Why do
you ask?"
"Oh, nothing," Noticing Sandy pacing outside the rim of
firelight, she went to talk to him.
Ramon covered himself with a blanket, feeling the chill of the
air. He intended to get up shortly and relieve Sandy at guard.
He did not intend to go to sleep.
REUNIONS:
Cinders leapt up the column of heated air rising from the
campfire. They had not bothered to use a small blaze. They did
not care if anyone saw.
"You leave a trail like a wounded cow," growled the husky
warrior, "Did you WANT me to find you?"
Espuma smiled vaguely, "You know where I am," he said smoothly,
"As I can always find you. We are both parts of the same magical
creature."
Machack shuddered. He lifted a gnarled tree trunk and shredded
it. The exercise seemed to calm him. "I prefer to think we are
the upper and lower halves," he growled, "Perhaps it is time to
see if one can live without the other."
Espuma shifted uneasily and said, "That should not be necessary.
I was sent to help you. You have Kaliche's word."
"I did not ask for your assistance, vile one," Machack's words
spilled out like gravel from a mine chute, "Why did you precede
me? To get your dishonorable hands on Kaliche's appointed
offering?"
"Do I detect a bit of jealousy, Blood Brother? What will you do
with the others, once you have the girl in your hands? I have
seen how you 'test' anyone you consider promising. Do you hope
to find one, someday, who can best you?" Espuma said with a sly
smile, "Or do you hope to mate with a female survivor?"
Machack's brow knotted like a thundercloud. "Some day I will
test you," he promised, "You had best be ready."
A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE IS A DANGEROUS THING:
Ramon understood that he was dreaming. Still, he felt
earthbound. The fragment of a moon gave enormous light as he
walked the corridors of boulders, stepping over gravel that
crunched beneath his sandals.
The sky was a bold, deep blue, brimming with stars. A cool
breeze fluttered at thick pulpy stalks of maguey. For a moment
someone walked beside him, and when he looked up at him he
thought he recognized Mud Wallow, the dirty old man who had
helped cure Do¤a Mercedes.
"So you are going to learn the ways of power?" the healer
chuckled, "This is good. Very good."
"I'm not trying to learn anything! And even if I was, I wouldn't
be a priest," objected Ramon, "I can't do dumb stuff like sit
around and pray all day."
"There are more powerful methods than prayer," was the dry
response, "But it is a good method."
"So what's better?"
"Prayer is asking. It is a step. If someone is bigger and
stronger than you, it only makes sense to ask, first," Mud
Wallow gestured with his hand to include the whole desert floor.
They were suddenly higher in the hills, looking out over the
landscape. "Do you see all that?" he asked, "Would you like to
own it?"
"No way!" Ramon said, trying to remember something from words he
had heard in the mission schools. Something about someone who
would take you up on a mountain and promise you things. From up
here he thought to look for his own campfire and was surprised to
see three fires - his own, one back toward the desert, and one
farther on into the confusing maze of boulders and paths.
"Good," said the old man, "Because you couldn't have it, anyway.
It belongs to the spirits, and to the animals who must live
there. But you can go there and not be harmed. You can go to the
spirits and ask for food... and for water, and you will probably
get it."
"What has this got to do with power?"
"Ahh!" Mud Wallow face loomed closer, "So you ARE interested in
power?"
"Well, just enough to keep from getting beat..."
"You can never have enough for that," sighed the old healer, "You
use power, you will draw others who want power. Then if you do
not know how to handle it, they take it from you."
"So what do I do, just ask them to go away?"
That evinced another dry chuckle from Mud Wallow. "There is
another power," he said, "You know they will go away. Then they
will not come in the first place."
"I don't get it."
Another chuckle as the decrepit healer faded, "You do not know,
yet," he said.
Still he walked on. The dream was not over yet. He clambered
down to level ground, going closer to the fires that he had seen.
At the desert fire there were five men sleeping around the fire,
their horses picketed nearby. A sixth stood guard, sitting just
outside the rim of firelight.
The guard glanced in his direction and Ramon stood still, then
remembered that he was in a dream. "If he can see me then either
this is not a dream or he's in the dream, too. That's too
confusing to think about." As a test, he moved into the light of
the campfire, prepared to duck if the sentry should start. There
was no reaction, even when he waved his hand in front of the
man's eyes. Then the sentry rose to his feet and Ramon jumped
back, but the man was only going over to check the horses.
[This is a peculiar dream,] Ramon admitted as he found the trail
they had followed earlier, [everything is too clear.]
Then he was coming upon the campfire where he had left the others
when an odd thought occurred to him. He knew he had gone to the
sheriff's campfire and looked around, and then he had started
back, but he could not remember actually - moving- either way.
He had just *wanted* to be there and he had gone.
He smiled indulgently at his own silliness. [Of course,] he said
to himself, [It's a dream, after all.]
The aroma of tobacco smoke caught his attention. A white blur
ahead resolved itself into Alboro's hunched form, sitting and
smoking his pipe.
"About time you came back," grumbled his abuelo, "You can't sit
still for a minute. No patience. You will never learn!"
"Just walking around," said Ramon defensively, "Everything seems
so strange. Like a dream. I saw the sheriff's camp and I'm
going over to look at that other fire."
"No!" Alboro said sharply, "That is enough! Go back to bed!"
Ramon came nearer to the camp and realized that he had walked
past Wolfwalker without being noticed, yet the Azuma warrior was
alert, watching the night around him. Closer to camp, he came
upon another puzzle. Alboro was standing behind him, almost at
Wolfwalker's side. There was a shape under the blanket where
Alboro had been earlier. Curious, Ramon lifted Alboro's serape
and peered at the person snoring beneath.
He beheld - Alboro.
Whipping around as though to catch someone playing a prank, Ramon
stared at the Alboro standing solemnly before him. The standing
Alboro spoke, "Bring the others all together!"
Then his shoulder shook and the figure faded away. Again he
shook and felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Wake up!" cried Sandy, "We got trouble! Somebody's coming!"
Wolfwalker was stamping out the fire. "Something woke up the
posse," he said, "They're heading this way." Lonesome was
hurrying back from his post.
Into the last light cast by the embers of the campfire strolled
the mare. Behind her there was the nearing glow of torchlight
and the sound of more horses.
"Oh, no!" cried Lonesome, "I knew I should have shot that animal!
She's leading them right to us!"
Ramon had stumbled to his feet. It took him a moment to get his
balance, but he was soon strapping his saddle on the bay. He
looked around and saw that everyone was together, but through the
muffled grunts and noises of assembly he noticed that one figure
was missing.
"Where the heck is my abuelo?" he wondered.
That was when the wind howled and the pebbles danced, rocks
knocking against each other in an incessant rumble. Dust and
blowing sand mingled with uprooted bushes and flying grass to
throw a curtain between them and the desert.
"Earthquake!" cried Sandy.
In the confusion that followed, blowing sand and dust obscured
all vision. Horses nickered and reared, forcing them to divide
their attention between holding on and keeping the grit out of
their faces.
Through the folds of his bandanna, Ramon saw Red Cloud's horse
lose its footing and sprawl among the flat boulders. After he had
dismounted from the bay he careened through the gale to Red
Cloud's side and found Wolfwalker already there, protecting her
from flying debris. Ramon joined him to shelter her. Before
they vanished into the murk, he saw the cowboys moving to help
Estrellita.
The very earth creaked and the rocks underfoot trembled as large
monstrous shapes seemed to materialize and vanish before them.
Ramon saw a shape like Alboro's jackass gallop wildly past with
someone who looked like Alboro in the saddle, waving and taunting
the monstrous shapes into chasing him. Then the jackass vanished
as though it had never been, followed by the gargantuan phantasms
who were howling in anger, roaring and howling to shake the
world.
Then there was stillness. From the bushes not far away a
mockingbird called, and a thin line of light announced the rising
of the sun over unfamiliar hills.
Ramon staggered to his feet. He reached down and helped Red
Cloud as she rose, also. Wolfwalker was already up and pacing
about the bare area of sand on which they stood. They were
surrounded by low trees and shrub, their horses were nowhere to
be seen, and their companions had vanished.
"Where are we?" Ramon wondered.
"Use your eyes," growled Wolfwalker, "We are not where we were."
"I know that!" snapped Ramon, "But where are we?"
"Beyond the hills," supplied Red Cloud, "We have taken a giant's
step."
IN THE KITCHEN:
Dolores had coffee waiting in the kitchen as Manuel pulled on his
clothes and dried his hair. "I have always considered Se¤or
Sinestro to be a hard man," he said, "But he has exceeded even my
worst expectations."
Francisco, his stool propped against the table, held out a cup
for a refill. "Our Alcalde is a man of many talents," he said,
"The Azuma say he is a man of hunger."
Manuel sipped his own cup, "He is hungry for something that is on
the de Muerte property," he said, "To get it, he is prepared to
turn Don Pedro's son against him by claiming that he is
endangering his own granddaughter."
"Surely, as reckless as Estrellita is, Estabon would not believe
such a charge."
"Estabon and Carmen may be overly generous with their daughter,
but they are not indifferent. When they find that Estrellita has
followed our son into a dangerous land, they will become very
concerned."
"But Doņa Mercedes has already told them about Estrellita!" cried
Dolores, "I helped write the messages myself!"
"You forget that all messages go through the Alcalde's office,"
frowned Manuel, "He has delayed them and plans to claim that they
were never sent. He guards the roads in case someone tries to
take a message by hand. A hard man, and cruel."
"I had a chance to shoot him, once," said Dolores soberly, "Now I
wish I had done so."
"Someday we will talk about those times," Manuel said to her,
gently, "But not now. I am angry that anyone would so coldly
threaten my patron in his own home. It was all I could do to
keep from revealing my presence."
"Don Pedro knew you were there, listening?" Francisco raised an
eyebrow.
"He was aware. I must confer with him when the snake leaves."
"I think we should all go and talk to him," said Dolores,
"Bertran spoke to me of a hidden treasure, the Aztec hoard."
"That is a legend! I cannot believe he is chasing after an old
tale that prospectors tell other on cold nights."
"He believes it is real. He almost killed our son, and my
daughter, because of his greed for gold. I must warn Don Pedro."
"We will all go," agreed Manuel.
A CHANGE OF PLAN:
"This watchdog is proving to be interesting," Machack scowled at
the ridge, where sand and bits of rubbish were falling from a
clear sky.
Espuma was not so unperturbed, "They have cheated!" he cried,
"Now I must leave tonight!"
"Unless I read my signs wrongly, they are going to travel very
far, very fast," the warrior said, "What profit is there in
hurrying?"
"The master has entrusted me with a few small articles, including
an apparatus to go very fast," gloated the smaller man, "I know
where they are going, and I can get there almost as soon as they
do."
"I was wondering about your reason for being here," growled
Machack. He laid his hand on his knife, "Now I will know. Or
else."
Espuma sidled away from him. "I am to make them welcome," he
said, "I could take you, as well. Otherwise, you will be days
catching up."
"I am to collect the girl," the warrior's voice was a deep rumble
of warning, "The girl will be unharmed. You *can* die, you
realize. I know how."
"There will not be one hair on her head out of order," promised
Espuma, "As for the people around her, I will make no such
promise."
"You know how important this mission is, and you want to play
your games? I do not need you!" thundered Machack, advancing on
him.
"Can you find her?" countered his companion as he stepped
backward, "I can. I have been there."
The husky warrior ground to a stop, his fist inches away from
Espuma's face. Espuma smiled, but it was a wan smile.
"How are you going to do this?" asked Machack.
"Since we know the boy is going to the Apache, we will make the
Apache come to us."
"That tells me nothing!"
"Just come with me, and I will show you," the ex-sergeant pulled
a spindly mechanism from his packs and began to assemble it.
"I will not place myself at your mercy. Go, fly. I will be
there. You said yourself that I can always find you," Machack
shrugged, "I say I can follow your stench. But hear this... harm
the girl, or let her escape, and only one of us will return to
apologize to the master."
Espuma turned his back to the warrior, attaching a sling to the
device with stout rope. Machack saw with some satisfaction that
the ex-sergeant's hands were shaking.
PREPARING THE WELCOME MAT:1
The whole world was beginning to taste bitter. First, there were
the ponies - three of them. Considering the relative poverty of
the tribal group, this was a lot. Three young men were
announcing that they wished to be considered as suitors for her
hand. Three out of so few. Her family had no wealth, her foster
father was dead, and she could not cook or sew to please her
foster mother. She did not encourage them, so why did they think
she would choose one of them? Oh, yes. Tradition. Already
their families were preparing the customary gifts in hopes that
she would pick their son.
But she was not ready. When she had been much younger, she had
wished that her real family would come to get her, a father who
was bold and strong, a mother who was soft and warm. Perhaps
even a strong brother who could ease the feeling of
`differentness' which haunted her. Finally, she had resigned
herself to being content to live alone, and now even that was
being denied her. Life was bitter, like the tea she was
drinking. It made her feel slightly ill.
Lucha smiled a bitter smile as she lifted the pendant down from
the wall hook and put it around her neck. She had social
obligations; someone had a wickiup with a leaky roof and several
maidens were going together to help mend it under the close
supervision of an elder.
Outside her door, she saw the ponies and shuddered. They had
been there since dawn. If they were not cared for, they would
shortly become thirsty and hungry. She could not ease their
discomfort; any favor she showed would be interpreted as favor
toward the pony's owner. The finest pony, a black and white mare
with a beaded halter, belonged to Buffalo Wattle. She knew who
the other two ponies belonged to, but they did not matter; within
a day they would come and claim their horse because they would
have 'reconsidered' after getting a talk from Buffalo Wattle.
"It is good that you are an accomplished huntress," smiled Yucca
Blossom as they walked toward the wickiup, "But there is more to
being a good wife than merely hunting."
"I do it to get out of the village," sighed Lucha. She had to
watch where she placed her feet. The dizziness had returned, "I
do not have that many friends here... only you."
Yucca hid an embarrassed grin, "They would like you if you would
stay and talk with them."
"I would not want to gossip, it is boring. Sewing, preparing
hides, cooking... it is boring. I want to travel."
"That is why some say you are not acting like a woman. I say
they are wrong," Yucca frowned as she avoided two puppies
growling and tearing at each other in playful abandon, "Still,
you should be prepared to tend to your husband, so he can provide
for you and your family."
Lucha brushed her sleeve across her face as though to move a
stray tendril of hair that had gotten into her eye, or she could
have been brushing back a tear. "My mother is the only family I
have," she sniffed, "I can take care of her."
"Aiyyeee," said Yucca, "and what of yourself? Do you not dream
of a handsome man once in a while? Who will look after you?"
"I need no one," Lucha stopped as she saw the group of young men
standing outside Yucca's wickiup. Buffalo Wattle was among them,
standing in front. Yucca walked up to him and handed him a
leather bag crusted with beads and feathers. Buffalo Wattle sent
a guarded look at Lucha before he led the group across the
compound and toward the south.
THE PARTY OF THE SECOND PART:
The -fcrack- of a musket interrupted the distant lowing of
cattle, and echoed across the sparse rolling grass of a small
pasture. Sandy walked woodenly back to the others, his chin set
and his lower lip quivering. Estrellita lifted her hand to touch
his shoulder, hesitated, and withdrew it as he passed her.
"Lucky we didn't lose more," Lonesome said, facing away from the
others.
Sandy finished wiping down the barrel and slid the musket into
its saddle holster. "Reckon we could spread the packs among the
other horses," he said, "Ramon and them will be needing their
horses when we find them."
Estrellita limped up to Lonesome. "We could put the packs on
your pet horse," she suggested.
"Is that nag still here?" cried Lonesome, "How do I get rid of
her?"
The mare came when Estrellita called, and seemed eager to take on
the burden stripped from the dead packhorse. Lonesome took the
pack from her before she dropped it. "You took a spill back
there, didn't you?" he asked.
"I've fallen off taller horses than this one!" snapped the
rancherita, but as she walked past Sandy she stumbled and he
caught her before she fell.
"We'd better find the rest and get going," said Lonesome.
While Sandy mounted his steed and scouted about for the remainder
of the group, Lonesome tied the bay and the other two horses into
a string with the mare bringing up the rear. Estrellita seemed
more secure once in the saddle.
"Nothin'," Sandy reported after his sweep, "They could be any
direction... no telling where that wind blew them."
"I'll just be doggoned if I can figger," said Lonesome as he
puzzled over the unfamiliar landmarks.
"Now you're startin' to sound like Mister Calpern," Sandy
chuckled.
"Old man has a head on his shoulders, you got to grant."
"Yeah," agreed Sandy, "Don't know nobody I'd rather have guarding
my back in a fight... `Ceptin' maybe you."
"That's mighty big of you, Kid, seeing's how you ain't never seen
me in a fight."
"How about back at Aguas Calientes, at the jailer's house?"
"That weren't no fight, Boy. That was just clearin' up a
misunderstanding. Come a real fight, maybe somebody don't walk
away."
"All the same..." Sandy shrugged.
Lonesome frowned. "I got no *idea* how we got here, but I know
where we are. Came through here a couple years ago. There's a
town just up that road, and they got good grub."
"I want to go!" Estrellita roused enough to say, "I'm dying for a
decent cooked meal!"
THE OLD GUARD:
Chief Tom Goose watched the band of boys - young men, actually -
as they left the girls and ran past on their way into the land
south of the rancheria. He said nothing, but an alert person
would have noted pride reflecting from his eyes when they came to
the young man leading the group.
"They follow Buffalo Wattle as though they were on a raid,"
commented his companion and brother-in-law, the shaman. His name
was Broken Cloud, for the way the clouds had split the sky when
he was on a trek in the desert, searching for his calling.
Tom Goose merely nodded in acknowledgment. "His mother would
have been content," he said, "He is headstrong, but he is a good
leader... if only..."
"And Yucca Blossom is becoming a fine young woman," continued the
medicine man as though the chief had not faltered, "Already the
boys are noticing her. You can see them follow her with their
eyes as she walks past." He laughed, "They pretend to be
examining the ground. Ahh, youth!"
The chief nodded again. The hills to the west had lost their
rosy glow and were subsiding into lumps of stone ready to receive
the warmth of the sun.
"Brother, I must ask of deeper matters," said Tom Goose, "I have
felt the shadows again."
"Aiyuh," muttered Broken Cloud, "Others are disturbed, as well.
No one enjoys crouching in his home while things walk about that
he cannot fight," the medicine man watched his face as he asked,
"It is the dream, is it not?"
"As it has been for years. Since before Yucca Blossom was born
and her mother..." He paused again. No one liked to talk of
ghosts, "I thought it was over. We once were a large group," he
continued, "Now, families leave and no one joins. Look at us. A
handful of families stay. Now Deer Finder has gone. Tell me, my
brother... are we truly cursed?"
Broken Cloud took his time answering, "Not by spirits. I have
asked, and they tell me this. The bear spirit says we have taken
in something which can harm us, but then he says we had to do it.
He says we must come together with our fellow clans to talk about
it." The shaman blinked and looked at the shimmering hills, "And
then he says something I do not understand, about my eyes."
Tom Goose remained troubled. "Whom could we have offended?" he
wondered, "What could we have done?"
"I cannot say. It is for this reason I have laid aside my
quarrel with the medicine man of the Loose Foot group and we have
agreed to meet and discuss the problem during the clan gathering.
While you and your fellow chiefs discuss Chief Red Sleeves and
his pacifist teachings, we will talk about this village."
"That is one less thing for me to worry about," said Tom Goose.
"Let us talk of more pleasant things," smiled the medicine man,
"I would rather be remembering the days when I was chasing off
across the country, like those boys."
RIO PELIGROSO:
Rio Peligroso stood at the base of a cliff, a gaggle of adobe
huts clustered around an old mission. A single main street
angled out from the river with several stores on either side,
making it a fair-sized town for the area. The river, from which
the place name derived its name, trickled between the town and
the cliff, perilous only in the spring when runoff from melted
snows in the hills brought the trickle to a raging torrent.
Lonesome and his companions crossed the fearsome river a
half-dozen times, in water ankle deep at the most, on their way
to the town.
"We've got no doctor here, but I've patched a few cuts. What
seems to be her problem?" the stout woman named 'Ma Brown' who
ran the boardinghouse told them. She wiped her hands on her
apron and put it away before looking at the girl in Lonesome's
arms. Sandy stepped out of her way, but remained close.
"She fell off her horse a few miles back," offered Lonesome. The
stout woman lifted Estrellita out of his arms and started up the
stairs.
Estrellita stirred and mumbled, "Let me alone. I want to sleep."
"Don't see no broke bones," the lady said over her shoulder,
"Could be she's just tuckered out. I'll put her to bed. You
don't mind if she spends the night, do you? Cost you fifty
cents."
"Fine," said Lonesome, "She can stay here. I have to go look for
someone. They might show up here."
"I'll stay with her," volunteered Sandy.
"I'll let you look in on her," promised Mrs. Brown, "But you
don't roost in there by yourself. This ain't that kind of
place."
"I'll be on the porch," promised Sandy as he tried and failed to
keep the embarrassment off his face.
_______________________________
1 Apache customs described in this story are not intended to be
absolutely accurate, and may be modified to a) enhance the
storyline, b) combine a feature from several different groups,
c) protect the innocent. In the same vein, the names are not
intended to represent actual persons. They are not changed to
protect the innocent, they are made up to further the story.
|