Guns of Seneca 6 Box Set Collected Saga (Chambers 1-4)

by Bernard Schaffer

  He stepped onto the dead woman's back and his boot wobbled from the extra weight, pulling him so close to the flames on his right side that he felt the hair on his arm burning. He righted himself and raced ahead, collapsing against Haienwa'tha's open arms.

  "Get out there and catch these kids," Jem said. "I'll pass them to you two at a time."

  "No," the boy said. "You go."

  "God damn it, boy, this is no time to argue! Get your ass out there now!"

  "This is my fault!" Haienwa'tha screamed. "Now go or we will both stand here and burn together."

  "Stupid stubborn son of a goddamn jump on top of me and make me run into a burning adobe hut pain in my ass is what you are," Jem muttered as he crawled through the window. He grabbed the smallest child with one arm and lowered her toward the cannon. The little girl's entire body was soaked and it was all he could do to hold onto her as her small feet swung perilously over the great expanse.

  The woman grabbed the little girl and kissed her face over and over as she handed the child to the woman perched on the cannon behind her and waved for Jem to keep going. Jem dropped down onto the barrel and squeezed it with his thighs. He reached up and said, "Come on, Squawk!"

  A pair of tiny legs emerged from the window first and Jem reached up to take the boy by his waist. "Don't look down, partner," Jem said. He twisted to hand the boy to the woman behind him and reached back up. The next child came out the same way.

  The smoke billowing out of the window grew darker and more dense. Jem called out for Haienwa'tha to hurry up but there was no response. "Come on! What the hell are you doing in there?"

  The children inside had stopped screaming. Jem raised his hands to his face and cried out, "Squawk!"

  Suddenly, the boy's hands emerged from the black smoke and he climbed through the window with the last child clinging to his back. He groaned with effort as he lowered himself down the window frame, hanging from it by the tips of his fingers. "Climb down!" he shouted at the boy.

  "No!" the child squealed.

  "Just like a tree. It will be okay. You will not fall."

  The boy lowered himself to Haienwa'tha's waist and looked down at Jem with eyes wide enough to see white on all four of their sides. Jem reached up and latched onto the child's torso, even as he shrieked and tried to hang onto Haienwa'tha. The entire cannon shook and the women behind him cried out. Jem passed the boy back and turned to look up, "Come on. I've got you."

  Haienwa'tha's arms were useless. Flames licked at his fingers like hungry dogs, but he could feel nothing. There was no strength left in him to push away from the wall or to get down to the cannon. It was time to let go.

  He closed his eyes. Father, he thought. I failed.

  Haienwa'tha, the eldest remaining son of the great Chief Thasuka-Witko, let go of the burning window and released himself into the wind. He felt El-Halcon's hands swipe against him, trying to grab something, anything, but missing.

  He surrendered to the fall and the inevitable impact, knowing it would launch his spirit out of his broken body and into the sky. He had just closed his eyes when someone snagged him by the arm and started to scream, "Grab me! I'm going to fall too!"

  Lakhpia-Sha had both of his arms wrapped around Thathanka-Ska's waist, holding him over the edge of the cannon. Jem Clayton had his hands around one of Lakhpia-Sha's legs, clutching it to his chest.

  Thathanka-Ska screamed "I've got you! Nobody let go of me! Oh no, oh no! We're going to fall and die!" The boy wailed until he was breathless in fear while he held onto his older brother's wrists, making more noise than all the others combined, more noise than the cannon as it began to lower them all safely toward the ground.

  Jem stabbed the dirt between his legs with his knife. He took it out and looked at the reflection of the twin moons above on the surface of the blade, then he did it again. He still smelled like fire and felt like the stench of burning bodies was sunk into his clothing with it.

  He did not look up to see who was coming toward him. He did not care until he caught her smiling shyly at him from the corner of his eyes. Ichante's floppy hat was gone and in its place, her dark blonde hair was washed and braided with flowers. She wore a long white dress of soft cotton that revealed her curvy figure in the moonlight. "I look like a girl," Ichante said.

  Jem nodded and laughed, "That you do." He looked her up and down, "Who'd have thought it?"

  "They insisted on washing my road clothes and this was all they had here."

  "So you do take a break from being a badass every once in awhile, huh?" he said.

  "Not often," she said. She sat down beside him and folded her legs, forgetting to pull her dress down over them. "The little one told me how you came to be called El-Halcon. It is something I would not have believed until today."

  "You want to know about that name? I'll tell you. When I was twelve years old a Beothuk raiding party came into my town. One of them tried to get in my house and I shot him dead right on my front porch. Come to find out, that young man I killed was Goyathlay, the oldest son of Thasuka Witko. You think I ever told him that? No I did not. You know why?"

  "No," she said softly. "Why?"

  "Because I was afraid. And I wanted to be his friend after he gave me that special name. But he wouldn't have been my friend if he knew I killed his boy, now would he? I never said, and now he's dead and that's that. I'll never get the chance to, so I guess I'll be a coward forever." He whipped the knife at the ground ahead of him so hard it sunk all the way to the handle and he slumped forward on his elbows.

  Ichante slid closer to him and put her chin on his shoulder. Her lips were close to his ear when she said, "And yet you've given him back his other son's lives how many times now?"

  "Don't change anything," Jem said.

  "Was Thasuka Witko the man they say he was?"

  "Hell yes," Jem grunted. His voice was thick in his throat, making it tough to talk. "If not even more than that."

  "Then he would have understood," she said. She kissed him on the cheek and put her arms around him and he did not push her away.

  Thathanka-Ska was pacing nervously outside the sick tent. Hehewuti and Lakhpia-Sha argued over which medicines to give each of the patients, but one by one, each of the injured was tended to. One by one, the children fell silent and began to sleep.

  The girl named Kachina came out of the tent and breathed in the night air. There were dark circles under her wide eyes, a temporary imperfection on her otherwise flawless features. "He is awake and asking for you," she said.

  Thathanka-Ska thanked her and entered the tent. It smelled of strong medicines and pastes made from herbs and roots. Lakhpia-Sha was huddled in a corner mixing great batches of something green and bubbling in one of the cooking pots. He did not look up as Thathanka-Ska crossed behind him to where Haienwa'tha was lying. "How are you?" he said.

  "Never better," Haienwa'tha said weakly.

  "Liar."

  "I need to tell you something."

  "No, you listen to me," Thathanka-Ska said. "You were wrong about the vision. You were wrong about everything."

  "I know," Haienwa'tha said. "That is what I was going to say. I was wrong and I failed you. Failed all of you, and now the tribe is doomed because of it."

  "Be quiet," Thathanka-Ska said dismissively. "What I mean is, you were wrong about me not believing. I've been thinking about it and I was never the one who did not believe. It was you who did not believe and I was the one who had to come with you to make you finally see it."

  "See what?" Haienwa'tha said.

  "It's you. You are the leader we've been looking for. I've always believed that."

  "You are insane."

  "And you are the Chief. You be big Chief," Thathanka-Ska said with a laugh. He cocked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "We can talk more later. There are others who want to see you."

  Haienwa'tha sat up on his elbow and winced at the pain in his side. A young girl and boy carried in a small tray of freshly mad
e frybread. They set it beside him, bowed nervously, then turned and ran away.

  One of the women from inside the dwelling came in next, carrying a blanket. Her face was red and peeling from burns she'd received in the fire, but she smiled at him and laid the blanket at his side. He thanked her and she lowered her head and said, "Bless you."

  There was another child waiting at the tent flap to come in, eyeing him eagerly. She was holding a necklace of polished stones. Haienwa'tha looked up at his brother and said, "How many more are there?"

  "All of them," Thathanka-Ska said.

  "All?" he whispered. He bent forward to look through the tent flaps and saw the women of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mi lined up outside of it, all of them carrying some sort of gift. Even old Hehewuti was there.

  The old man shoveled the toe of his boot under a large rock like he meant to unseat the thing and send it rolling out of his way. "We need to go after him."

  "In the morning," Jem said. "We can track him better during the daylight anyway. He left all sorts of sign to cut."

  "If we lose him…after coming this far…"

  "We won't. Did you eat?"

  "Like a heathen," he said. "These women haven't had a reason to celebrate anything lately. Give them a chance to cook and I will tell what. They made me a feast."

  "Good," Jem said. "Now go find one of the lonely older ones in dire need of company and leave me alone for a little while."

  His grizzled face cracked with a smile, "You got a fresh mouth and a dirty mind, Junior. You know that?"

  "Don't mean it ain't a good idea, padre."

  Jem walked toward the fire at the center of the camp. He saw the old woman sitting at the head of her people with Squawk and the other two boys. They were speaking in Beothuk, and the old woman stopped short to look up at him as he passed. "Sorry to interrupt," Jem said. He kept moving.

  Hehewuti looked back at Haienwa'tha and said, "The wasichu was brave today."

  "Then you should honor him instead of sending him away," he said.

  Her lips flattened at his suggestion as he looked back at the white man. "Perhaps later," she said. "The old ways have deep roots in my heart and will take much to be changed. I do not say this with pride. Only as truth."

  "It was the same for many of my people as well," Haienwa'tha said. "But know this, none hate the wasichu more than Toquame Keewassee. No one teaches that they must be made war on more than he. If you embrace that hatred, you embrace what he is."

  The women surrounding him nodded. Some of them turned to watch Jem walk away. "Speaking of him, what will you do now?" Hehewuti said.

  "Come morning, El-Halcon and I will ride out to find Keewassee and put an end to him. We will avenge your men and return to our lands."

  Hehewuti looked at some of the women, then back at him. Whatever she was about to say was hard for her to force out of her mouth. Pride kept her lips shut. The younger woman to her right nodded and said, "Ask him."

  "As you can see, we have no men left," Hehewuti said. "Perhaps, if your tribe accepts you as the new Chief, and if an arrangement can be made, then we might be…"

  Haienwa'tha held up his hand and said, "You are welcome to come with us. My father always taught me that even though we are many tribes, we are one race. One nation. One people."

  The women around the fire smiled and talked to one another excitedly, and Thathanka-Ska leaned close to his brother and whispered, "That's the other part."

  "What part?"

  "Of the vision. He will lead our people out of the desert and into new lands."

  Haienwa'tha rolled his eyes and said, "You are being ridiculous."

  "But it's true!"

  "No it is not, because I am not the one who will be leading them back to our tribe. You will." He looked at Lakhpia-Sha and said, "Both of you are taking these women home at first light."

  "I thought we were going to find Keewassee!" Thathanka-Ska said.

  "No. I am going to find him. You are going home." The boy opened his mouth to protest and Haienwa'tha said, "You are the one who insisted I be Chief. This is my command. Escort the women of the Hopituh-Shi-nu-mu back and advise Mahpiya and Osceola of everything you have born witness to. They will know what to do."

  "Until you get back, you mean," Thathanka-Ska said quickly.

  "Of course," Haienwa'tha said. "That is what I meant to say."

  Chapter 20: Prayer is the Key

  Bob Ford turned over to his side to look down at the river where Ruth Pettigrew was dunking shirts in the water. She was surrounded by soap bubbles and her dress was soaked all the way through so that it stuck to her body. Bob plucked a handful of feverfew and rolled them around in his hands. He looked for more, maybe enough to make a decent bouquet. I know what you've been through, he said in his mind. I've been there, and it don't make you any less of a person. You just have to understand, it wasn't in my heart to hurt you. If I hadn't done it, it would have been one of the other ones and they would have done far worse. Can you forgive me?

  You can?

  "Them sure are some purdy flowers, Bob," Jim said. "They for me?"

  Bob smirked and tossed the flowers aside as he sat up. "That's what I do when we're not together. I pick flowers and write sonnets for you."

  "Ain't you something else?" Jim said. He looked over Bob's shoulder just as Ruth bent over to wring out one of the shirts. "I almost hate to sell 'em off. Even though the other ones went loopy, this one's a keeper. For once in their miserable lives, these boys don't smell worse than the destriers."

  "When's that?" Bob said nervously.

  "Don't you worry about that, now," Jim said. He tapped the side of his head with his finger, "The boss has it all stored away up here. The less anybody else knows, the better." He leaned down to Bob and whispered, "I'll tell you this much though, being that you're my lieutenant and all. If there's anything special you want to do with little Ruth, you best do it before the next two days. You catch my drift?"

  Bob nodded and said he did.

  Jim smiled at him, "Don't go telling nobody though. I like to keep these boys on their toes."

  "All right," Bob said. As soon as Jim left, he spun around and picked up the flowers, then grabbed broke a few more off their stems. He smoothed back his hair and checked his breath with his palm. Good enough.

  Ruth slung the rung out shirt over a tree branch and went back to the basket to fetch another. She walked it into the dank, hot water and stuffed it under the surface. When she looked up, Bob Ford was standing on the embankment looking at her. "I'm sick, Bob," she said.

  Bob had been about to raise the flowers to show her but stopped short and said, "Sorry?"

  "I said I am sick, so I can't right now. Not unless you want me to puke on you. All the other girls are sick too, so leave them alone."

  "Those other ones aren't sick. They're minds snapped or something."

  "What makes you think I'm any better, Bob?"

  "You don't walk around here soiling all over yourself, that's for one." She shot him a look that made Bob feel humbled. "Listen, I came for something else anyway. I been meaning to talk to you."

  She pulled the shirt out of the water and started to squeeze it. "About?"

  "I was thinking, you know, Jim's got plans for you all and they don't include you staying here."

  "What, you mean I have to give up the glory of cooking for all you, whoring for you, and cleaning up all the mess? Whatever shall I do?"

  "I meant that maybe you and me could…"

  She looked at the flowers in his hand and his bright red face and laughed suddenly. "You don't mean the two of us, right?"

  "I do."

  She dropped the shirt in the water and came up on the beach, hiking her skirt up as she closed in on him. She came within inches of him and said, "You forced yourself on me, Bob. You treated me like a piece of meat and stood by while all your friends did the same. Don't you ever fool yourself into thinking I could ever feel anything but pure hatred for you and your kin
d."

  "I never hurt you, Miss Ruth," Bob whispered.

  "Get away from me," she said. When Bob didn't move, she screamed it louder and beat him back with her fists, "Get away from me!"

  "Hey!" Jim called out from above the embankment. "What you getting the help all stirred up for? Is it romance time already?" he said with a sharp smile.

  Bob looked back at Ruth as she spun on her heels and returned to the water. He set the flowers down on the beach and walked back up toward the camp. She's just short-tempered cause she's sick, he thought. The Ruth in his mind picked up the flowers when no one was looking and hid them away, a respite from all the ugliness surrounding them. That's what we are to one another, he thought. An island in a raging sea.

  He suddenly wanted to write that down, but as he walked over to his bedroll to grab a pencil, one of the men shouted, "We've got company."

  Gentleman Jim hopped on one foot as he tried to slide on his boots. He picked up his shotgun and broke the barrels down, making sure they were loaded. "Friend or foe?" he called out.

  "It's the itjin."

  "How many of them?"

  "Just one," the man said.

  Jim whistled in surprise. "What the hell could he want?" He waved at his men and said, "Get up. Take a position and get under something. Last thing we need is a thousand arrows falling on us out of the sky." He turned to look at Bob, "Get your guns on. You're coming with me."

  Bob was bent over his bag, still rifling through it. "Hang on a second, Jim. I need to write something down real quick."

  Jim kicked Bob so hard in the rear end it sent the man face first into the dirt. "Get up, you goddamn sissy. Strap on them guns and let's go."

  Bob looked up from the grass to see Ruth staring at him. He got up as quick as he could and snatched up his gun belt, buckling it as he walked.