"Perhaps that is why we now have to ride a hundred miles to go find someone else to do the job," Lakhpia-sha said. He turned his destrier around just as Haienwa'tha shot forward and swung a fist at him that knocked him sideways off his seat. The larger boy lunged at him again, until both of them were hanging off the edge of Lakhpia-sha's destrier, suspended above the hard red clay. They fell together in a fit of cursing, pulling at each other's hair and clothing all the way down until they landed in something wet and slippery.
Thathanka-Ska heard the commotion behind him and turned back to see his older brother and oldest friend fighting in the ground. He called out for them to stop as he raced back, only to see both of them slapping and pawing at one other in a humongous pile of fresh destrier dung. The boy clutched his sides and howled loud enough that both of them finally stopped hitting one another to stop and look. Both of their eyes widened in horror at the clumps of feces tangled in their hair and squished within their fists. They looked around in disbelief at the pool of waste covering their clothing, staring in mute horror at the filth covering the other's face.
The young boy called out, "If our enemies were looking for us, your smell would give us away before my blubbering!" With that, he whipped his destrier around and raced into the distance, his laughter echoing across the flatlands.
By nightfall, they were gathered around a small fire. They would have to camp in the open mesa, surrounded by miles and miles of empty terrain. No trees to shadow their sleeping forms, not even boulders large enough to brace themselves against. Lakhpia-sha and Haienwa'tha sat miserably on the ground, their bodies covered in dry dung that had baked onto them in the scorching sun. Neither of them wanted to risk fouling their blankets. Both of them knew it would be a long night on the cold ground. "I will take the first watch," Haienwa'tha muttered.
Thathanka-Ska turned a small lizard over the open flame, watching its skin sizzle and roast. He did not joke or poke fun at the other two. In a demonstration of solidarity, he folded up his own blanket and put it back on his destrier. He blew on the lizard's crinkled skin and bit it, savoring the crackling juices as he chewed. "I like this better," he said.
"Better than what?" Haienwa'tha said.
"Better than being with the tribe. I like being out on our own better than being stuffed into a teepee with all our cousins, or watching some new Chief beg permission from all the women."
Lakhpia-Sha shook his head and said, "I don't. The last time we did this, I wound up getting eaten by a werja."
Haienwa'tha looked sideways at his friend and said, "I wouldn't worry about that tonight. You are completely safe from any animal."
"Why's that?"
"Because none of them like the taste of dung." Haienwa'tha smiled and pointed at his younger brother, "But they absolutely love the taste of young, fresh meat. You had better stay awake on your watch."
"All I can think about is being at home," Lakhpia-Sha said. "The smell of frybread. The drum circle. Lucky for me, once I learn the medicine, I won't have to leave again."
"Except to hunt or go to war, right?" Haienwa'tha said. "At least you'll get to still do that."
Lakhpia-Sha shrugged. His voice was soft when he said, "Maybe. If they need me, I guess."
"But you'd want to go. Otherwise, you'd be no better than one of the council women, sitting around while the other warriors provided for you," Haienwa'tha said with a sneer.
Lakhpia-Sha looked at both of his friends with a weak smile, "Of course. All the time."
There was a flicker of movement near the fire and Thathanka-Ska's hand shot out to snatch a lizard out of the shadows. He spiked the squirming thing on his stick and passed it through the fire once, then twice. "Who am I?" he said.
His older brother frowned and said, "I have no idea. Who are you?"
Thathanka-Ska bounced the stick to make the lizard look like it was walking through the fire and said, "I'm the new Chief."
"Not funny," Haienwa'tha said. He looked over and saw Lakhpia-Sha trying to cover a smile, which made both of them laugh. The older boy collected himself first and said, "Do not encourage him."
"I heard that when a new werja becomes leader of the pack, he kills all of the sons of the old leader," Thathanka-Ska said. "Even if they are babies."
"So?" Haienwa'tha said.
"I'm just saying."
"Well, we are not werja. They are four-legged demons who eat their own feces," Haienwa'tha said.
"And we are two-legged hunters who cover ourselves in it, apparently."
"Enough! The new Chief will be a brave, decisive warrior. Thasuka-Witko said he would lead us to the new lands. Or do you doubt our father's dying vision now, too?"
"Who said he'll be a warrior?" Lakhpia-Sha said. "I think he will be a man of peace who teaches us new ways to grow crops, so that we no longer have to wander in the desert."
"That's ridiculous."
"Why is it ridiculous?"
"Because no one can lead if all he's interested in is gardening!"
The boys continued to argue until Thathanka-Ska said, "I think he'll just be a regular person who has to listen to what the old women tell him, and still try to do the right thing." He bit into his fried lizard and said, "I wouldn't want to have to be him at all."
Haienwa'tha dreamed of the man he would find, seeing him sitting in the circle, looking out over the rest of the tribe. He nodded understandingly as different warriors spoke, always steady, always firm. Even when there was a quarrel or someone disagreed with the new Chief, he was not flustered. In battle, fearless and decisive. In front of the council women, resolute. As his eyes fluttered open against the cold ground of the mesa, Haienwa'tha felt glad for the dream, surely it was a vision. A blessing.
He looked around to see the other two were both sleeping. "Hey! Wake up!" he shouted at Lakhpia-Sha. "You were supposed to be standing guard, idiot."
Lakhpia-Sha's head snapped up and he stretched out his long, lanky frame. "I was just resting my eyes. Wasn't sleeping."
"Liar," Haienwa'tha said. He picked up a small stone and flung it over the grey, stilted fire at the ground near his younger brother. "Get up, lazy."
The boy covered his eyes to shield them as he looked at where the sun was standing. "It isn't even past daybreak yet. Let's leave in another hour."
"Now," Haiewa'tha said. "We need to find somewhere to clean ourselves before we reach the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu."
They rode out on their destriers toward the cliffs, small things that looked no bigger than a man's thumb from a distance but grew to enormous proportions as they approached under the harsh afternoon sun. Under the canopy of the cliffs were strange, unnatural carvings cut out of the stone and earth. "What is that?" Lakhpia-Sha said in wonder.
They all turned to look at the windows and doorways to empty homes, now taken over by insect webs and desert vegetation. "Dwellings," Haienwa'tha said. "Homes for the ancient people." There were at least a hundred of them, enough for an entire tribe. "If I were them, I would not have set up such a permanent place unless I had access to water." He waved for the other two to follow him, "Let's pray it has not run dry."
The dirt behind the cliffs was dark red and rich looking, surrounded by thick reeds that stood tall enough to brush their feet dangling from the destriers. "Split up, but go slow," Haienwa'tha said. "It could be right underneath us."
He eased his destrier forward, whispering to her, "Easy, easy." She shook her face at the reeds and snorted, annoyed as they swiped at her nostrils and batted her eyes. If the animal fell into the water it might break its legs, or worse, throw him and break his. He patted her muscular neck, running his fingers gently along the fine coat of chestnut fur and said, "We will drink soon."
"Over here!" Thathanka-Ska shouted. "Careful, it's swampy."
The older boy turned his destrier around and headed for his brother's voice. The ground turned wet beneath them, making sucking noises on his mount's heavy hooves. He looked down to see a small, muddy stream runnin
g through the reeds, tangled in lilies and green algae. "Not the oasis I had hoped for," he said.
Lakhpia-Sha's destrier slogged through the muck toward them and he frowned at the water. "I think we might actually get dirtier if we go in that."
"Both of you are sissies," Thathanka-Ska said. The boy jumped down from his destrier and stripped off his clothing so quickly that it was only seconds before he was running naked to the edge of its bank and leaping. He landed with a splash that made the other two's destriers back up abruptly.
"How is it?" Lakhpia-Sha said.
"Disgusting! Now come on."
"There are probably snakes in there," Lakhpia-Sha said.
"And worse," Haienwa'tha said. "But I'd rather be bitten by something than present ourselves to the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu covered in dry poop." He dismounted and pulled off his brown-crusted shirt and threw it into the water, then did the same with his pants. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Come on. Let's go."
Lakhpia-Sha slid down from the back of his destrier, looking warily at the water below. "What's the bottom of it like? Are there a lot of rocks? Snakes hide in the rocks," he whispered.
"I'll check," Thathanka-Ska said. He dove under the murky surface and vanished.
Haienwa'tha eased himself down into the water and started to scrape the crust off his arms and neck. "It isn't that bad," he said. "Stop being a baby."
"Where is your brother?" Lakhpia-Sha said nervously.
There was an enormous, sudden splash as Thathanka-Ska shot up from the water at Lakhpia-Sha's feet and grabbed him by his wiry legs. The two of them tumbled back into the water with the medicine man's apprentice screaming like a woman as he fell.
Haiewa'tha laughed as the two of them fought and splashed and dunked each other's heads. "Careful, he's almost bigger than you are now," he called out to Lakhpia-Sha.
"Help me!" the thin boy shouted right before he went under again.
"No. You need a good bath anyway."
"Enough, enough," Lakhpia-Sha said miserably, swatting Thathanka-Ska's hands off of him. "If I drink anymore of this swill, there won't be any to bathe in." He coughed and spat, trying to clear the taste of brine and mud from his mouth, when he saw the other two boys suddenly stiffen and raise their arms. "What are you doing?" he said. He turned around to look at the edge of the bank and saw a dozen arrowheads aimed directly at them.
Warriors crouched in the thick weeds, draped in dust-colored blankets the color of withered parchment, invisible on the landscape except for the bows sticking forth from them. All of them, bent low to aim their weapons at the three boys in the water. All of them women.
Haienwa'tha looked from one face to the next, searching for the eldest one. "I am Haienwa'tha, son of Thasuka-Witko. If this is your stream, we apologize for making use of it without your blessing. I did not know there was anyone here."
One of the women in the rear called out, "What of the other two? What did they think?"
Haienwa'tha could not see who was speaking, so he lifted his head and said, "They thought they could trust my word, as their care is my responsibility. This one is my younger brother, and this one is learning the ways of medicine."
A middle-aged woman came forward through the crowd of women, clutching her blanket around her neck. She looked down at them with fierce eyes as black and sharp as the stone arrowheads and said, "What are you doing this far away from your homelands, son of Thasuka-Witko?"
"Searching for the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu. In my father's dying vision, he told us that we would find our next Chief among them. He sent us to find him."
"Then the great warrior Thasuka-Witko has sent you on a fool's errand," the woman said. "All of our men are dead."
The women walked the boys back to their camp, not allowing them to ride their destriers or possess their weapons. Haienwa'tha counted at least twenty women and half as many children. Some were only infants and suckled on their mothers as the boys walked past. There were no teepees. No sweat lodges. The women not armed with bows were sitting on sand-colored blankets cross-legged, watching them intently.
He passed a slender young woman with long black hair that curled at her shoulders and eyes like shaped like almonds. She looked at him and smiled, then looked away. I hope none of them were watching us when we got out of the water, he suddenly thought.
They called the oldest woman Hehewuti, and no sooner were the boys seated at the fire than she said, "Tell us why you seek us."
"Are we your prisoners or your guests, grandmother?" Haienwa'tha said.
She looked at him cautiously. "Both, for now," she said.
"That is fine. Treat me as the prisoner and these other two as guests then. I will tell you anything you want after you feed them and bring them something to drink."
Hehewuti snorted with laughter and clapped her hands. "Who is the elder of your woman's council?"
"Agaidika," Haienwa'tha said.
The old woman closed her eyes and nodded, "I know of her. I see you are used to dealing with her."
"No, grandmother. But I have grown up watching my father seek her guidance on many occasions."
"You have learned well," she said.
Two bowls of food were placed on the ground, in front of Lakhpia-Sha and Thathanka-Ska. Thathanka-Ska looked at his brother and said, "Where is yours?"
Haienwa'tha shook his head at him and whispered, "Just eat."
"Why aren't you feeding my brother?" Thathanka-Ska said sharply. "In our tribe, we greet newcomers as family."
Haienwa'tha swung around to cover his brother's mouth just as Lakhpia-Sha pulled him away and hissed at him to be silent. Hehewuti looked at the two other boys and said, "You are the youngest son of Thasuka-Witko, yes?"
Thathanka-Ska looked at his brother, who nodded. "Yes…grandmother."
"And you are learning the medicine?"
Lakhpia-Sha sat up and said, "That is correct. Mahpiya has been teaching me his ways for over a year now."
"Why are you here, then?" she said.
Lakhpia-Sha looked at the two boys beside him and shrugged, "Because. They were going."
"It is the way of the shaman to walk alone, not to follow his leader around like a dog."
"I am not their leader," Haienwa'tha said quickly.
"Then your tribe is doomed, for the men of this land have been slaughtered protecting their daughters and wives from the Nukpana."
"What is the Nukpana?" Haienwa'tha said.
"A corrupter of our people. He steals the women and sells them to the wasichu. He comes from the north and his face is the devil's."
"The devil?" Thathanka-Ska whispered.
"Your words weigh heavily on my heart," Hehewuti said. "We had discussed going west, to find a tribe worthy of our people. Thasuka-Witko's name was discussed. It is fortunate now that we did not go."
"He only passed a few days ago," Haienwa'tha said. "We left right away. You could not have known."
The old woman gritted her teeth, "I meant it is fortunate that we did not travel all that way to join with a Chief who was so easily deceived by his last vision. Only the ones hated by their ancestors are visited by the trickster gods. Thasuka-Witko must have done something to anger them to be treated with such dishonor."
There was no response to offer, and the boys were sent away from the circle with a wave of the old woman's hand. They were led to an empty patch of dry grass and told to camp there. The usual warnings were issued. Do not move from this spot or attempt to come near any of the girls of the tribe or terrible things would happen to them with rusty metal instruments.
"You will have no trouble from us," Haienwa'tha said. He unpacked his blanket from his destrier and unfurled it on the ground. He bunched up the tall grass under his blanket until it formed a suitable makeshift pillow.
"That old bat is wrong," Thathanka-Ska said bitterly. "Everyone loved him."
"Keep your voice down," Lakhpia-Sha said. "Anyway, it's not like she doesn't have a reason to question it."
"I don't believe it," Thathanka-Ska said. "And if you say that again, I'm going to fight you. I don't care how much bigger than me you are."
Something moved in the shadows, near their destriers. There was a low whisper, nearly lost among the insect's songs of the mesa.
"What is that?" Lakhpia-Sha whispered.
Haienwa'tha motioned for him to be quiet as he rolled over and squinted to see into the darkness. Whatever it was, it had stopped moving.
"I heard it too," Thathanka-Ska said. "Over there."
A woman turned away from the circle to look back at them, and Haienwa'tha waved to her and announced, "I have to pee."
He walked over to where his destrier stood and looked everywhere for signs of movement. As he walked deeper into the shadows, he recalled the snarl of the werja. The feeling of its sharp fur tearing his skin while Lakhpia-Sha screamed for help. Haienwa'tha swallowed and put his hand up to pat his destrier on the side. "What was that noise, girl? Did you see anything?"
"Over here," came a soft whisper. A young woman held her hand up in the shadows and waved him closer. "Hurry. Quickly!"
He came around the side of his mount to where the girl was ducking low in the weeds. It was the same one he'd seen when he entered the camp. She handed him a small bowl and said, "Eat. I stole this for you."
Haienwa'tha looked down at the bowl of stew and said, "Thank you. Why did you do that?"
"I have to go," she said. "Hurry and get back before they become suspicious."
The girl turned to leave and he said, "What is your name?"
She stopped and looked back at him, smiling slightly. "Kachina. Leave the bowl in the grass here and I will fetch it later."
He tried to say something else, but she was gone. Haienwa'tha held the bowl up to his lips and downed the stew quickly, savoring the rich texture of its thick gravy. He licked his fingers and set the bowl down in the grass away from their destriers and made his way back toward their makeshift campsite.
Guns of Seneca 6 Box Set Collected Saga (Chambers 1-4) Page 31