Haienwa'tha watched Lakhpia-Sha's hands fall at his side in defeat and said, "It would have been a fine storm, I'm sure."
Lakhpia-Sha shrugged, "But not sure enough to wait for me to try."
The laughing form of Thathanka-Ska flew past them, sending a wave of debris high into the air. The winds picked up and swirled the sand like a slowly moving cyclone of grey and brown and red.
Toquame Keewassee watched the dirt storm with mild interest, knowing that he'd seen no signs of it before. He checked the sky all around them and listened but heard nothing. The storm was brief and as it settled, he watched three riders emerge. Instantly, his men raised their rifles and cocked back the hammers. "Wait," Keewassee said.
He leaned forward and folded his hands on the neck of his destrier, waiting for the riders to come to them. He fixed on the one in the middle, a young man but well-built and tall in his seat. The other two, younger still, and it was clear that they followed him. Clear that it would be he who spoke for them. Keewassee played these games constantly in his mind, assessing everyone he met, if only to determine who he had to kill first.
You, then, he thought as he looked at Haienwa'tha. The boy met his gaze as they approached, looking over the rest of Keewassee's men and their weapons. No fear.
"That is close enough," Keewassee said.
The boys stopped riding and Haienwa'tha said, "We are looking for the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu."
"Where are you from?" Toquame Keewassee said. "Your tongue is that of someone from the west."
"We are. I am Haienwa'tha, son of Thasuka-Witko."
Toquame Keewassee nodded as the other two introduced themselves but did not tell them his name. "Have you seen any of our people since your journey began?"
"No."
"No tribes of women?"
"None."
Comee leaned close to whisper something in his ear, but Toquame Keewassee ignored him and said, "Why do you seek the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu?"
"My father's last vision said to come here to find our next Chief. He said I would meet him and bring him home to lead our people to the new lands."
"Even out here we have heard of the great Thasuka-Witko, son of Hoka-Psice. They sing songs of his raids on the wasichu settlement where he killed many of their men with only a handful of warriors." Toquame Keewassee's eyes turned soft for a moment, "And you say he has crossed over now?"
"Two days ago," Haienwa'tha said.
"Then my soul is deeply grieved. We have so very few great leaders left." He turned to the men behind him and waved for them to lower their weapons. He dismounted and walked first to Haienwa'tha. "I am Toquame Keewassee, of the Pwatsak." He extended his arm and Haienwa'tha grasped it in his, both of their grips firm. "I am sorry to tell you that the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu have gone from this place. Their men all fell in battle and their women fled in fear."
Hainewa'tha steadied himself to keep his impassive. "That is most unfortunate. Who were the men fighting?"
"Us."
"And they are all dead?"
"We killed as many as we could find."
The man's eyes searched Haienwa'tha, trying to root out the boy's innermost thoughts while he petted the destrier with one hand and the other played with the handle of his knife. Haienwa'tha said, "What was their transgression?"
"Let me ask you something, son of Thasuka-Witko. In all of your life, how many free men did you see?" When the boy did not answer, he said, "I will tell you. You saw none. The wasichu tell us where to live. They tell us what we can have. Even in our own tribes, we are stifled by the women's councils and our own unwillingness to take back what is ours. What was the transgression of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu? It was the same as the rest of our enemies. They lacked vision."
Haienwa'tha looked up at the warriors mounted behind Keewassee. All of them were hard looking men, their faces etched with lines of battle and sorrow and a fierce will that he had never seen before. "You have seen not one single free man in all of your life, at least, not until this very moment," Toquame Keewassee said. He smoothed down Haienwa'tha's destrier's fur and said, "Come. You can camp with us and tell us stories of your father. I would greatly like to hear them. We will drum for him and pray for his spirit. Perhaps later we can discuss your journey and see if we cannot untangle it together. I have experience with such things."
Hainewa'tha looked over his shoulder to see if there was any trace of the women but saw nothing except the flat mesa all the way to the hills. "This area is dry and inhospitable. Let's move on and make camp elsewhere."
When Toquame Keewassee smiled it was the grin of a starving werja. "I think we'll stay right here for now and see what comes our way."
As the other men turned around to head for their camp, Lakhpia-Sha swatted Haienwa'tha on the arm and whispered sharply, "What do you think you're doing?"
"I must learn more of this man," he said.
"Why? He's a killer and a slave trader."
"Says who? A bunch of frightened women? We were told we would find the man in the land of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu. Not that he would be one of them." Haienwa'tha kicked his destrier in the side to set off after the rest of the men, leaving the other two boys to stare at one another.
They ate rizada leaves that had been dried in the sun and salted until they became crunchy green chips. A dozen conejos stewed in a pot and Toquame Keewassee said that they'd soaked in herbs for so long their meat would drip off the bones like hot grease. "Before you even get a chance to bite it, you will have to catch it with your fingers. Are you hungry?"
All the boys said that they were. "Good. I have heard that some tribes are less than welcoming to those they encounter. It has always been my policy to treat every Beothuk I meet like family. Until they prove to me that they are otherwise." Keewassee stirred the pot and said, "Now, tell me stories of your father."
As Haienwa'tha spoke, the warrior watched him with sad eyes, sometimes nodding gravely, sometimes sighing. He laughed and repeated the things that he liked to Comee, who was seated at his side.
Thathanka-Ska watched the man, trying to undo him, trying to root out his intentions and true character. It was like trying to catch running water inside a clenched fist. Will not believe. The words whispered in his ears again and again, as if it were his fault and fate to be the one who doubted.
When Haienwa'tha spoke of Thasuka-Witko's last vision, Toquame Keewassee listened with great interest and forced everyone seated at the fire to be silent. When it was told, he asked to hear it again. Each bit of it was weighed out in careful increments like powders and medicines. Every phrase and nuance probed for hidden meanings with issues made of the most minute details before being disregarded completely. Thathanka-Ska imagined that every word of the vision was a wild destrier that all of them leapt onto and rode fast and hard until it eventually wore out and collapsed.
Finally, Toquame Keewassee had heard his full of the vision and he turned to look at Thathanka-Ska. "What do you make of your father's words? What is it about you that you will not believe when you meet the man who will lead your people?"
Thathanka-Ska looked back at him silently, then down at the ground.
Keewassee smiled thinly and said, "And here I thought I was so intriguing that you have not been able to take your eyes off of me tonight. Perhaps I was mistaken."
"My brother is young and easily distracted," Haienwa'tha said quickly. "He meant no offense."
"Let him speak," Keewassee said. "He is the son of a chief as well. A warrior by your tribe's own standards. So tell me, warrior, what do you look at me in this way for?"
Thathanka-Ska looked at his brother and friend, who both stared back at him nervously. "I am sorry, brother, but I must tell him the truth." He turned to Toquame Keewassee and said, "We lied to you."
Haienwa'tha's eyes widened, "What are you talking about?"
"Be silent," Keewassee snapped. "It is all right, little one. You can speak what is in your heart here. What did you lie to me about?"
"We
saw others while we travelled. A man and boy who said they'd heard of a warrior band who are kidnapping women from other tribes and selling them to the wasichu."
"You did?" Keewassee said softly. "So what is it you want to ask me?"
Lakhpia-Sha was stiff and rigid at his side, and Thathanka-Ska suddenly lost his courage and looked back at the ground. "Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to be honest with you."
The Pwatsak warrior slowly rose to his feet, staring at the boys with rapidly blinking eyes. He circled around the fire toward them and Thathanka-Ska was overcome with terror, unable to move or even lift his eyes from the ground.
Lakhpia-Sha's hand darted inside his long shirt sleeve, imperceptible to everyone except Haienwa'tha. The thin apprentice cupped the hilt of the long dagger in his hand and said, "We meant no offense, brave one."
"He did," Toquame Keewassee said, pointing at Thathanka-Ska. "And make no mistake, offense is taken, but I admire a man who speaks plainly more than a man who couches his words in those of another, so tell me what it is you wish to know."
Thathanka-Ska kept his eyes glued to the ground. He felt tears coming into his eyes even as he shook his head and whispered, "I take it back."
"Too late! Ask me your question and the fates will decide the consequences."
Haienwa'tha shot to his feet and stood chest to chest with the larger man, blocking his younger brother. "I will ask in his place and the consequences will be mine to face."
Toquame Keewassee's eyes flashed hungrily, "So be it."
"By what right are you taking the women of our people and selling them to the Wasichu?"
"We do not give passage to everyone we meet, son of Thasuka-Witko, particularly in the land of our enemies," Keewassee said. "But it was for your father's sake that I spared your lives. You see, I have always heard tell of his great battles and legendary courage." Toquame Keewassee stepped even closer to Haienwa'tha, so close that the two men stared directly into one another's eyes, "Never did I think I would actually see it demonstrated until now." He smiled warmly at the boy and put his arm around his shoulder, "Walk with me, little brother."
Everyone around the fire visibly relaxed and began to dig into the pot of stew for the conejos. Thathanka-Ska's hands were numb as he took his plate from the man next to him, still trying to see where his brother had gone. He looked down at Lakhpia-Sha in time to see the boy slide his knife back up his sleeve before he reached for a plate and smiled as if nothing were wrong.
It was hours before Haienwa'tha returned. He crept past the bedroll where Lakhpia-Sha lay sleeping and tried to slide down onto his own silently, but Thathanka-Ska was waiting. "Where the hell have you been?" he said.
"Talking. Listening. He wants to know where the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu women are."
Lakhpia-Sha stopped sleeping mid-snore and bolted upright, "You didn't tell him, did you?"
"No. Of course not," Haienwa'tha said. "But he knows we know. He is patient enough to wait."
"Wait for what?" Thathanka-Ska said. "Us to lose our minds?"
"For trust. He could force it from us, but he chooses to wait until we offer it to him."
"Fat chance," Lakhpia-Sha sniffed.
Haienwa'tha shrugged and said, "I don't think it's a bad idea."
Thathanka-Ska's mouth fell open and he looked from his friend to his brother and back, "What did you say?"
"I said I don't think it's a bad idea. They don't sell women to the wasichu. He helps them get off of this planet so that they are spared. He said he has seen tribes of starving women being forced to eat one another's flesh to survive, so he helps them find new lives in other places."
"They wouldn't have to survive alone if he weren't killing their men!" Lakhpia-Sha said.
"Not everyone sees the truth," Haienwa'tha said. "They want to share this place with the wasichu, but the white man only takes more and more. He says that every treaty is a death sentence, and we are signing them readily. The wasichu have no honor, and yet we all act amazed when they break our treaties. It is like inviting a werja to dinner and being surprised that it tried to kill you."
"Not all wasichu are like that," Thathanka-Ska said.
"Do not ever speak of El Halcon among these people," Haienwa'tha said. "In fact, don't speak of him to me either."
"If this man thinks so highly of Thasuka-Witko, he should respect that as well."
Haienwa'tha shook his head and said, "Trusting El Halcon was a mistake, and we will not discuss it further."
"We are not going to tell him where the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu are," Thathanka-Ska said.
Haienwa'tha laid his head down on his rolled up blanket and said, "Get some rest. Tomorrow, you can talk to him yourselves."
"I have nothing to say to him," Thathanka-Ska said.
"He is your next Chief, the one who will lead us to the new lands."
"I do not believe that."
"Exactly as Thasuka-Witko predicted," Haienwa'tha said. "Get some sleep."
Chapter 16: Is Your Back Against the Wall, or Just Across the Line?
The preacher regarded the man riding next to his wagon with careful glances, working in his assessments as he surveyed the landscape. He handled his destrier like he was born in a saddle and carried two engraved Colt Defeaters. He was a lawman but he had a hunted look in his eyes like a man who'd sooner cut your throat than let you lay a hand on him. And then there was the way he gunned down those men in front of the bank, Father Charles thought. That's not the reflex of a lawman. That's pure killing, and you don't learn to do it without practice. "You mind if I ask you a question, Mr. Clayton?"
"I never thought much the church, padre, so if you're about to try and save me, we are gonna have a long and unfriendly ride ahead of us."
Father Charles chuckled and said, "No, not me, son. I learned a long time ago you can't convince anyone of anything. Most folks don't want to hear new ideas, just ones that support what they were already thinking."
Jem nodded and said, "Then ask away."
"What made you get into law enforcement?"
"Grew up in it, I guess," Jem said.
"You used to be a deputy before you became the big boss?"
"No. Not hardly."
"So you changed your ways and became a man of the people, is that it?"
Jem cocked his eye back at the old man in the wagon and said, "Last year I tied a man to the back of my destrier and dragged him across ten miles of desert into that canyon over yonder. Then I cut his head off with my knife and spiked it on the ground for his brother to find. Then I killed his brother and shot another man who was like a father to me at the same time. After that, I killed the Sheriff and the Mayor. That sound like a man of the people to you?"
Father Charles' eyebrows raised as Jem spoke and he said, "No. It surely does not. Everything you just said is gonna take you straight to hell."
"At least I'll have plenty of people I recognize."
"Why'd you cut that man's head off?"
Jem turned away from him to look back at the road. "He tried to force himself on my sister in front of her crippled husband. She fought him off as best she could. I got there before it was too late."
"You got similar reasons for the other things you did?"
"Similar enough," Jem said. "Not that I intend to explain them to anyone, and that includes you."
"Some things we do in this world we just have to learn to live with, Jem. Others we have to worry about dying with. I spent a good portion of my life destroying things. It was all I knew how to do, but you see, once you create something, it changes all that. When I had my little girl and I saw what the Lord had made through me, I couldn't go on being the man I was before."
Jem smirked, "I ain't cutting my fingers off for nobody, padre."
"You'd be surprised what you do when you find that one person, Jem. The one who makes you change."
"I knew a man once who fell so in love with a woman that when she died, it was like the lights went out on his front porch. You kn
ow what I mean? He had two little kids and as much as he tried to do right by them, he had some kind of giant hole inside that kept him from ever feeling anything good again. I watched him go through that and you know what I said to myself, padre? I said that I didn't think I was ever going to love anyone that much. And you know what else?"
"What else?"
"I was right."
They didn't speak much after that, heading deeper into the wasteland until both moons emerged through the wash of crimson left like paint strokes by the setting sun. Jem yanked on his destrier's reins and said, "Whoa."
Father Charles stopped his wagon and leaned over the side of the carriage, trying to look in the same direction as Jem. He didn't see anything but worn out road and long stretches of red dirt and mountains. "What is it?"
"Somebody passed through there not too long ago. That's a wagon wheel rut."
"So?"
"So it's getting dark," Jem said. "We're stopping for the night."
"We ain't got time to stop this early into the evening, Jem," the preacher said. "We can cover another few miles before we need to make camp."
"Yeah, or we can walk up on the wrong people and wind up in a shootout. You do what you want, but I'm stopping here." He undid his saddle bag and bedroll and walked far off the road until he found a wide flat spot that backed up against a rock wall. There were sticks and bushes aplenty all around, and he lit a few of the branches on fire to help him look. Won't be no fun if I reach for a stick and it turns out to be a rattler, he thought. By the time he finished, Father Charles had wheeled his carriage over to the campsite and started to break it down for the evening.
Jem threw the pile of brush on the ground and lit the dry branches with a match until it was engulfed in flames. Father Charles worked a crank on his destrier's harness and the thing hissed as its hinges popped open and two hydraulic arms lowered to the ground, keeping the contraption propped up while the animal stepped out from under it. "You hungry?" Jem said.
Guns of Seneca 6 Box Set Collected Saga (Chambers 1-4) Page 33