And the woman would not rest until she had made Swift Horse believe it was One Eye who was, in truth, the one-eyed renegade.
“Her time on this earth is measured now in heartbeats, for soon she will die,” he said, riding alongside the river in the direction of the cave, yet back far enough from the riverbank so that Sharp Nose could not see him.
He rode onward until he knew that he was out of eye range of Sharp Nose, then crossed over at a shallow place in the river. When he was on the other side, he directed his steed to the back side of the cave, where he knew Sharp Nose still stood, alert and watchful.
Even though One Eye knew this sentry very well, and they had shared many smokes and talks, One Eye had to kill him in order to go inside the cave and get the trunk. One Eye had to do away with it once and for all, for as long as it was where someone could find it, it could be used against him.
First he must do away with the trunk—although he was proud of the valuables that he had placed there—and then he must do away with the woman.
But there was still one problem: the scar on his head! The injury was still plain to see, but he would not carry that scar forever, the way he had been forced to carry the one following the bear attack.
His shaman had been applying his medicinal cure on the wound on his head, and the scar left there was all but gone. What was visible, was hidden behind medicine that was the same color as his skin. The shaman had told him this morning that in only a day or two the scar would no longer be visible at all to the naked eye.
If One Eye could wait just that amount of time before going to Swift Horse’s village, then he could stand before Swift Horse without fearing being detected as the renegade. Before then, though, he had to find a way to finally end the woman’s life.
Now close enough to Sharp Nose that he could see his back, and seeing that Sharp Nose’s horse was tethered far away, One Eye drew a tight rein and dismounted. He did not need to go any farther. He was accurate with his bow and arrow.
One arrow was all that he needed to silence Sharp Nose, and then he could go and take the trunk to the river and drop it into the deepest depths so that no one would ever see it again.
After securing his horse’s reins, One Eye drew an arrow from his quiver, positioned it on the string of his bow, and took aim.
The arrow quickly found its place in the right side of Sharp Nose’s back. Thinking that he had no need to go and verify that Sharp Nose was dead, One Eye slung his bow across his shoulder again, mounted his steed, then rode on to the cave.
He tethered his horse to a low tree limb, then went into the cave and hurried to the rear where the trunk stood, now open.
He could tell that someone had rifled through it and had seen all of the personal belongings of those who had died at One Eye’s hand. He slammed the trunk closed and carried it to the cave’s entrance:
He lifted it high over his head and slung it through the falls, watching it tumble along with the falling waters until it splashed far down below him in deep enough water to keep it hidden from anyone’s view, forever.
Then he grabbed all of the torches from the cave walls and pitched them into the water too.
He turned and gazed behind him at the darkness, laughing at how clever he was to have destroyed all evidence against him, then walked from the cave and made his way across the tiny, slippery ledge.
He hurried to his horse and, laughing into the wind, rode away, his thoughts already on how he would end the woman’s life. And if he discovered that Swift Horse had finally believed her about his being the guilty party, he would have no choice but to also take Swift Horse’s life—and anyone else who pointed an accusing finger at Chief One Eye.
He was too clever for them all.
He started to make a sharp right turn to head in the direction of his village, hoping to avoid everyone until his new scar was invisible, but drew a quick, tight rein when he saw someone at the river, fishing.
“The black man called Abraham,” he said, his lips lifting into a wicked grin.
He sank his heels into the flanks of his steed and rode toward him, stopping when Abraham turned and saw him there. He could tell that Abraham was uneasy from seeing him and wondered if he knew the doubts others had about the sort of person he was.
“Abraham, my friend,” One Eye said, dismounting.
Abraham took an unsteady step away from One Eye, then tripped.
One Eye stood menacingly over him, his one eye filled with pure evil as he stared down at him.
Chapter 33
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies when first it ’gins to bud. . . .
—William Shakespeare
Just before reaching their village, Swift Horse looked quickly toward the river. He just now remembered having promised Abraham that he would go fishing with him today. Abraham had voiced his love of catfish.
Since Abraham deserved those special moments that freedom now allowed him, Swift Horse had decided never to let him down. And he had! With the dream so strong on his mind this morning, all else had been forgotten.
He turned to Marsha. “I must go and find Abraham and apologize to him,” he said, drawing a tight rein as his warriors rode onward without him. “I promised that I would go fishing with him today, but in the flurry of needing to get to the cave, I forgot. I had already given Abraham fishing gear, and we were supposed to meet at the river after the morning meal.”
“Do you think he’s there even now waiting on you?” Marsha asked, gazing toward the river but seeing no one there. “I don’t see him.”
“I will ride on down to the river and see if I find him,” Swift Horse answered. “Maybe he is searching even now for a better place to fish.”
“I’ll go with you,” Marsha volunteered. She smiled at Swift Horse. “I’m not quite ready to leave you yet, for I know that when you get home, you will go into council with your warriors.”
“Yes, we must discuss what we will do next if One Eye doesn’t come for the trunk,” Swift Horse said solemnly.
“It is so good to hear you speak so,” Marsha said. “I thought you would never believe that he is the one guilty of these terrible crimes.”
“I still want him to step into a trap of his own doing rather than my going to and accusing him in front of his people,” Swift Horse said, his voice drawn. “His people do not deserve a leader such as he. Some will even find it hard to believe, as I have.”
He turned with a start when Sharp Nose’s son, Four Leaves, came running toward him, carrying a fishing pole.
“I was walking beside the river and found this, and there is fishing equipment spilled where I found it,” Four Leaves said, holding the pole out before him. “My chief, is this pole not yours?”
Swift Horse’s heart skipped a beat when he saw that it was the one that he had given to Abraham.
“Yes, this is mine,” he said, then looked past Four, Leaves. “Take me to where you found it. Did you not see Abraham near where you found it? And you said that you found spilled fishing equipment?”
“I have not seen Abraham at all this morning,” Four Leaves said, shrugging. He pointed to the place where he had found the pole and the equipment, then looked up at Swift Horse again. “Over there. That is where I found the pole. That is where I saw the equipment.”
Swift Horse sank his heels into the flanks of his steed and rode hard toward the river, Marsha close behind him. When they came to where Swift Horse assumed Abraham had been, Swift Horse leaped from his horse, bent to a knee, and studied the footprints in the sand.
“There has been a scuffle here,” Swift Horse said, seeing the large prints made by the moccasins that had been given to Abraham, and then saw prints made by someone other than the young brave. He could tell that Abraham had struggled with the one who came up on him while he was fishing, but had lost the struggle. His footprints led away with whoever had forced him to go with him.
He started to follow the tracks, which included those of a horse, but stopped when he saw Sharp Nose riding toward him, barely able to sit in his saddle. He was slumped over, and slid slowly from side to side, his head hanging.
“Sharp Nose!” Swift Horse gasped out, then ran to him just as his friend fell from the horse.
The warrior fell onto his side on the ground, his eyes wild as Swift Horse stood over him staring at the arrow lodged in the right side of his back, blood streaming from it.
“It . . . was . . . One Eye . . . .” Sharp Nose gasped out as Swift Horse knelt beside him, stunned that Sharp Nose was even still alive.
“One . . . Eye . . . thought I was dead,” Sharp Nose managed to say in a whisper. He looked past his chief and saw his son, Four Leaves, running toward them, panic in his eyes to see his father downed in such a way.
Sharp Nose looked quickly at his chief again. “I watched as One Eye got the trunk and threw it from the cave, down into the water below the falls.” He reached a hand out for Swift Horse and grabbed him by a wrist. “A short while later, as I was coming this way, I . . . was . . . close enough to see One Eye leading Abraham . . . through the forest,” he said, his voice getting so low, Swift Horse could scarcely hear him now.
“He . . . they . . . did not see me.”
Swift Horse was grateful to realize that Marsha had ridden away, surely to get Bright Moon, in hopes of saving this proud warrior. Four Leaves knelt now beside his father, tears streaming from his eyes.
“You said that you saw him with Abraham?” Swift Horse asked, bringing Sharp Nose’s eyes back to him.
“One . . . Eye . . . was leading him into the forest at knifepoint, trailing his horse behind him,” Sharp Nose said, then closed his eyes and said nothing more.
“Ahte, Father!” Four Leaves cried, then looked pleadingly at Swift Horse. “Do . . . something. . . .”
Distress filled Swift Horse at thinking that he might lose a valiant warrior at the hands of so evil a man as One Eye.
“Sharp Nose, do not die,” Swift Horse said, his voice breaking. “Bright Moon will soon be here.” Just as he said that, Bright Moon came running toward them, his parfleche medicine bag in his right hand, his long gray hair trailing behind him.
“Is he in time?” Marsha asked as she ran up beside Swift Horse. She blanched when she saw the stillness of Sharp Nose and the fear in his son’s eyes. “No! Please don’t let him be dead.”
“He is barely breathing, but he had enough breath to tell me everything he saw. Abraham has been taken away by One Eye,” Swift Horse said, rising and making room for Bright Moon, who was quickly on his haunches beside Sharp Nose.
Marsha gasped and looked away as Bright Moon broke the arrow shaft in half and tossed it aside, the rest still lodged in the warrior’s back.
“He still lives,” Bright Moon said, then began his ritual of chanting as he applied medicines around the wound. “I need to take him home. I cannot do all that needs to be done here, away from the fire. I must heat instruments to remove the rest of the arrow.”
Instantly several warriors ran up, ready to assist. They picked Sharp Nose up and began carrying him toward the village, Bright Moon and Four Leaves walking with them.
Marsha and Swift Horse were alone now, gazing into the dark shadows of the forest where they knew Abraham had been taken.
“If he kills Abraham . . .” Swift Horse said from between clenched teeth, his hands tight fists at his sides. “If he does, the death will be on my hands, not One Eye’s, because I should have believed earlier that One Eye was the one guilty of the crimes you accused him of.”
He turned and gazed at his warriors as they took Sharp Nose on into the village. “His death, too,” he said, his voice breaking.
Marsha took him by a hand. “Do not do this to yourself,” she urged. “You wanted to believe in someone, and not just someone—a friend. I understand how you wouldn’t want to believe that he could do these things. He has been a friend for so long.”
“How could I have not seen the signs?” Swift Horse said, gazing down at Marsha.
“Because you did not want to,” she said, reaching a comforting hand to his cheek. “But now you must think of Abraham. His life is in danger.”
Edward James came running toward them, his eyes filled with fear. He waved frantically at them with both of his hands.
“What now?” Marsha said, seeing the fear in her brother’s eyes.
“It’s Soft Wind!” Edward James said, stopping when he reached them, breathless. “She left a short while ago with some other women to gather roots. It was such a beautiful morning, she was so eager to go. When I heard about Sharp Nose, and Abraham . . . I could not help but be concerned about the welfare of my wife and those women who are with her.”
A sharp panic entered Swift Horse’s heart. He turned and stared again into the forest, and then at Edward James. “How long have they been gone?” he asked.
“Too long,” Edward James said, wringing his hands. “When I saw Sharp Nose being brought back in such a condition and I was told what happened, all I could think about was my wife and those who left with her. What if One Eye comes upon them as they are digging their roots? Will he kill them? Or remember they are friends?”
“He is a madman, so it is impossible to know what he would do,” Swift Horse said, already in his saddle.
“I want to go, too,” Marsha said, stepping into the stirrup, and soon in her saddle.
“This is becoming too dangerous,” Swift Horse said, frowning at Marsha. “Please stay with your brother.”
“Stay?” Edward James said, his eyes wide. “I can’t stay. I’ve got to go with you.”
“Let me have your horse, Marsha,” Edward James said, already grabbing the reins. “You stay behind. Lord, Marsha, I don’t want you in danger, too.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve already experienced today, so believe me, big brother, I am going with you,” Marsha said stubbornly.
She looked over at Sharp Nose’s horse, then at her brother as she yanked her reins from him. “Take Sharp Nose’s steed,” she suggested.
Edward James gave her a frenzied look, then hurried into Sharp Nose’s saddle.
“We will follow the tracks made by One Eye and Abraham, for then we will know whether or not they encountered the women,” Swift Horse said, already riding off in a soft lope as he gazed down at the tracks. Marsha and Edward James stayed back from him, yet close together.
“Marsha, I wish you’d reconsider and go home,” Edward James said, giving her a pleading look.
“I want to help if I can,” she murmured, yet understood the true danger and knew that her brother was terribly worried about her.
“You have always been so stubborn,” he said, then looked ahead as they rode onward behind Swift Horse.
“I wonder why One Eye took Abraham?” Marsha blurted out.
“Because One Eye knows that Abraham is Swift Horse’s friend—a friend he might have believed was taking One Eye’s place in Swift Horse’s life,” Edward James said, trying to rationalize all of this in his mind, yet hardly able to think of anything or anyone but his wife.
“So it’s because of jealousy?” Marsha asked, her eyebrows forking.
“It might be because of revenge,” Edward James said thickly. “If Abraham is killed, One Eye knows it will cause pain inside Swift Horse’s heart. Now he seems only to want to inflict pain—pain on Swift Horse, for he has to know that he can no longer hide who he is from anyone, especially Swift Horse.”
“I just wish it was over,” Marsha said, her voice breaking. “I’m so afraid someone else is going to die, and it might not be One Eye.”
Edward James gave her a wavering glance, then followed Swift Horse farther and farther into the forest.
Chapter 34
My first thought was, he lied in every word. . . .
—Robert Browning
One Eye had almost reached his tethered horse with Ab
raham walking ahead of him, a knife ready if he tried to escape, when he saw something so tempting he just could not fail to take advantage of it.
On a slight slope of land, Soft Wind and a friend were on their knees, digging roots.
He looked past them, and saw other women doing the same, farther away.
But Soft Wind and her friend were isolated enough from the others for One Eye to get more vengeance against his longtime friend—who was now his enemy.
He would kill his sister!
He would kill the woman with her, as well!
It gave him a dark pleasure to see the fear in the black man’s eyes that he knew that he would soon die and no one would be there to do anything about it. When Swift Horse found his sister and then later, Abraham, it would be enough vengeance put upon him by a one-eyed man—a man who had been a friend for so long.
Anger raced like a hot flash of fire through him when he thought of the day of the bear attack. Swift Horse was not worthy of such a sacrifice. If he were, he would fight to save One Eye from the fate that now awaited him, and would never believe anyone who pointed an accusing finger at One Eye.
First he would kill the women, and then he would kill Abraham, and then it would be done and over with.
He would wait for Swift Horse, and just as Swift Horse came close enough to One Eye, the hate and the need for vengeance visible in his eyes, One Eye would kill himself as Swift Horse looked on. One Eye’s last act to make the hurt run more deeply within Swift Horse was to see the man he had loved as a friend kill himself. His only regret was that he had not killed Marsha, too.
Needing to secure Abraham before attempting to kill the two women, he gave Abraham a shove. “Hurry onward,” he said in a quiet yet threatening command. “You see my horse. Hurry to it.”
Abraham did as he was told, his knees visibly trembling, and when he did reach the horse, he was grabbed and shoved against a tree.
“You stay there,” One Eye growled out. “If you try to run, I throw an accurate knife. You think the pain of your wounds made by a whip were bad, you will not know true pain until a knife slams into your body.”
Swift Horse Page 18