Moonlight and Magic

by Rebecca Paisley

  “Dios mio, por favor,” he prayed, and watched in full-fledged terror as the warriors began to pull on the other end of the rope that bound Chimera. Her arms were above her head, her feet slowly left the ground, and she hung suspended in air. Again, he rose. The pain in his head, the stab wounds in his leg and shoulder made him wobble precariously as he stumbled toward her once more.

  Another warrior shoved him back down and walked away from him. As he left, Sterling saw the intricate red and yellow beadwork on the Indian’s shirt. It was the same warrior who’d untied his bonds.

  The warrior, his back to Sterling, walked toward the holy statue. With his foot, he pushed the icon closer to the bonfire. When it rolled near the flames, he allowed it to stay there for a moment then kicked it well into the dark shadows of the nearby grove of trees.

  Sterling was mindless with confusion and fear for Chimera. He tried to stand again but stopped when the warrior began to shout hysterically in the Apache language. The brave pointed frantically at the statue. Sterling looked at it and saw it was glowing brightly in the dark.

  But so was the fire beneath Chimera’s dangling feet, he saw. The growing flames were licking at her boots, the hem of her skirt. Her screams reverberated through his every vein.

  Cochise bit out a loud command. The warriors who’d remained near Chimera rushed to smother the fire, then joined their chief and the warrior who was still shouting about the glowing statue. Sterling saw the brave retrieve the icon and show it to Cochise and the rest of the tribe. He saw how intently the people were listening to the frantic warrior, saw how they all turned to stare at Chimera, and tried to make sense of what was happening. But he could comprehend nothing except the fact that the fire beneath Chimera had been extinguished.

  His fear for her, however, returned with a vengeance when several warriors approached her again. He nearly wept with relief when they merely cut her bonds, and gently helped her back to the ground. Sterling was astonished at how tenderly they examined her wrists, her lower legs. Just what the hell had the warrior said about the statue to have brought about her salvation?

  “No le van hacer dafio,” he heard the warrior in question say behind him. He shifted on the ground, pain flashing through each of his nerves. The warrior, again in the shadows, had told him Chimera would not be harmed. “What did you say about the statue?” he asked the Indian quietly. “Did you save her because she has cared for your daughter?”

  “That and because I know the pain of losing a woman,” the warrior replied. “I did not wish for you to know this pain.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do not thank me. It is not our way.”

  “But it’s my way,” Sterling insisted.

  “You have fought many of our warriors, and you can still stand. You are strong, brave, and have won the respect of Cochise. He has ordered care and food for you, the woman, and the children. When you have recovered, you may leave.”

  Sterling struggled to his feet and grabbed the dark hand that was offered to him. But though he held the warrior’s hand, he could still not see his face. “The statue—What—”

  “I will tell you after your wounds have been tended. I do not think they are fatal, but you lose blood.”

  Sterling smiled. Whoever this warrior was, he owed the man much gratitude. “Is it against Apache custom for you to tell me your name?”

  “I am called Cicatrizado.”

  “The Scarred One?”

  “I am scarred.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is good that you are sorry.”

  “What?” Sterling asked, confused.

  “It is right for you to express your apology.”

  “I wasn’t apologizing. I didn’t give you the scar. I only meant that I’m sorry you have it.”

  “But you did give it to me.”

  Sterling frowned. “Me? I’ve never fought an Apache warrior before tonight.”

  “But you once fought a Mexican boy. You hit him above the eye, and the blood would not stop pouring.”

  Sterling’s mouth went dry when the warrior stepped out of the shadows. The tall Indian had a jagged white scar running through his left eyebrow.

  The warrior was Antonio.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Satcha wept when Antonio handed Venus to her. Holding the baby to her full breasts, she sank to the furs on the floor of the wickiup, kissed Venus’s soft head, and smiled through her tears.

  “Satcha’s tears are happy ones,” Antonio explained to Chimera in heavily accented English. “She has part of her sister back and Truenito has both sister and cousin now.”

  Chimera nodded and smiled at him. She could hardly believe the warrior was Sterling’s lost-lost friend and Venus’s real father. She was happy beyond measure that they had all been reunited.

  She looked back at the baby. “Venus is all things beautiful and loving. She responds to her name and knows no other. Antonio, let her keep it. Please, Cicatrizado.”

  Antonio’s brow rose and Chimera felt a bit guilty. Antonio was Venus’s true father, and he had every right to name her what he chose. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she added lamely.

  “I must. You have used my name—both my names in asking for the favor. If you had not, I could have denied your petition. That is Apache law. My daughter will be called Venus.”

  Chimera nodded her understanding, and silently vowed to be mote careful when using Apache names. She watched as Satcha prepared to nurse Venus.

  Venus, weak from hunger and her long bout of crying, was fast asleep. She whimpered softly when Satcha rubbed her plump cheek with a swollen nipple. Opening her eyes, she looked up and saw the woman holding her. Her tiny mouth parted to emit a powerful scream.

  Chimera cooed to the baby, then watched Satcha take advantage of Venus’s open mouth and saw the young squaw squirt several streams of milk into it. Venus gasped, choked, and then smacked her lips at the sweet flavor. She seemed indecisive for a moment and looked at Chimera. But when Satcha squirted more milk into her mouth, hunger overcame caution, and Venus latched greedily onto the nipple.

  Chimera smiled. She’d known it wouldn’t be difficult for Satcha to nurse Venus. Chimera was sure Venus would soon place all her trust in the gentle squaw who would be her mother.

  “I go to see Sterling,” Antonio said.

  Chimera wondered how Sterling was faring with the stern Apache doctor called Dee-o-det, and smiled when she recalled how indignant Sterling had been when the di-yin had blown pollen all over him before taking him into a wickiup. But at least his irritation was a sure sign that his injuries were not grievous. “And the children?”

  “The three with the same face have eaten enough for twenty warriors. It is good they will soon be leaving, or the Apache would starve. They all sleep now. Cochise has ordered them to be well-guarded so they will come to no harm. Now you, too, must eat and sleep.” He pointed to a bowl of food Satcha had prepared for her.

  Dutifully, Chimera reached for it and took a bite. It was a sort of corn pudding. She ate it with her fingers, then sampled a piece of the bread that accompanied it. She couldn’t suppress a shudder at the strong taste.

  “You do not like the bread,” Antonio said, and smiled. “But you must eat it. It is of acorns, berries, and mesquite beans. It will give you back the strength you have lost. Eat it, or I will tell Sterling you deny your body food. He is weak and does not have strength to worry for you.”

  Blackmail, Chimera thought with a grin. While she ate, she thought again of how wonderful it was that Sterling was with his childhood friend again. Things had a way of working out. She tried always to remember that, and seeing Antonio and Sterling together, after so many years, deepened her conviction. She continued to hope things would work out between herself and Sterling too. After all, Sterling was going to be here until his wounds healed.

  Time. Every time she thought she’d run out of it, she was given a bit more.

  “You are thi
nking of him,” Antonio said softly. “It is in your eyes.”

  She blushed. “Yes. When may I see him?”

  “Dee-o-det is dressing his wounds. I do not think you will see him until the sun rises. Dee-o-det and I will stay with him tonight. You sleep with Satcha.”

  “But—”

  “I see that your blood burns for him,” Antonio said with a mischievous smile. “But his body must make more blood before he can burn for you in the same way.”

  Chimera’s blush deepened. “You’re terrible!”

  Antonio’s smile broadened. “I am a man, as Sterling is a man. You are a beautiful woman. I understand what is between you and my friend.” He rose to leave.

  “Wait! Antonio, Cicatrizado—you say you understand. Please, I need to talk to you.”

  Antonio sat back down. “You may call me Antonio. I do not object to this.” He smiled reassuringly.

  “I love him,” Chimera blurted. “I...Well, I’ve tried to make him love me back, but he—You’re his friend. You knew him when he was a boy. Will you help me?”

  He watched her wring her hands. “I cannot help if you do not tell me the problem.”

  She smiled at his answer and tried to collect her thoughts. “I’m not sure where to begin... He’s a very wary man, but he wants so badly to trust. Although he’s less cynical now than he used to be, there’s still doubt inside him. Still so much confusion. He speaks fondly of Father Tom and Mother Maria, and I’m sure that, besides you, they’re the only ones in his life who have ever shown him affection. But you know, Antonio, they must have been so busy, and I’m sure they simply didn’t have the time to give him everything he wanted and needed from them.”

  “This is true,” Antonio agreed. “They were good people, but they had much to do. I felt the same way there.”

  “But you’ve learned to love. You loved Venus’s mother, you love your children, and I believe you love Satcha. It could be Sterling is afraid to love. Or perhaps he doesn’t know what true love is, so he can neither accept or give it. It could really be a combination of both. Once, when he was mad at me, he talked about an emptiness inside him. Some kind of giant void, and I think he was trying to explain his need for someone to love him unconditionally, someone who will accept him exactly like he is, no questions asked. You see, so many people have needed him. Some for righteous reasons, others...” She blushed. “Others have used him, manipulating him to achieve their own ends. Now he’s so suspicious that it’s impossible for him to tell the true from the false. I’ve tried so hard to make him see that my love is real, but, Antonio...”

  She paused. “Father Tom found Brianna, Sterling’s mother. She’s in Tucson, and he plans to go there. With her, he hopes to find all the things he’s never had; the love and acceptance, as well as a stronger sense of who he is and where he came from. He’s attached every hope and dream he’s ever had to finding her. And he forbade me to tell him he might not get what he wanted from her. He guards his hopes like a man guarding his last penny. But Antonio, if Brianna rejects him, hurts him—Sweet heaven, what will happen to him? I was hoping you’d talk to him about this. Maybe he’ll listen out of his affection for you.”

  “What do you think I can say to him?”

  “Well, it’s obvious you’ve adapted completely to the Apache way of life. I believe you are Apache, yet you weren’t always. You’ve found acceptance, love, identity—a sense of fulfillment here among these people. You could explain to Sterling how it came about. Maybe something you say will touch something I’ve failed to touch. I’ve tried as hard as I can to show him all the love I have for him, but, well, ‘When spiderwebs unite, they can tie up a lion.’ I’ve spun my web around him. I’m asking for a bit of your web too.”

  He gently took her hand in his. “He is a man of intelligence. I am sure that everything you have spoken to him has already taken root in his heart. Time will be the rain for the seed you have planted in him. Your love will be the sun. The seed will grow. You have done what you could for him. Now you must find the patience to wait to see the reward of your work.”

  He rose, lifted the flap to the wickiup, and turned to look at her before leaving. He smiled at her downcast expression. “I will join my web with yours,” he assured her. “We will tie down this silver-eyed lion we both love.”

  Sterling’s head throbbed as he tried to maneuver himself into a sitting position upon the thick, furry hides. The knife wounds in his calf and shoulder ached dully, but they were overshadowed by the pain in his head, which was the worst he’d had in his life. “It’s no wonder the army has such trouble with you Apache,” he told Antonio. “Those clubs you use are better weapons than anything the soldiers have. I doubt even a cannonball could compare.” He spoke in Spanish and felt profound happiness that Antonio had not forgotten their native language.

  Antonio chuckled and handed Sterling a clay cup. “Drink this, my brother. It will dull the pain.”

  Sterling felt his throat tighten when he heard Antonio call him brother. As children, they’d cut their palms and allowed their blood to mingle. This had made them brothers in their innocent eyes, and Antonio had not forgotten. Shaken, Sterling accepted the cup Antonio offered, took a large swallow, and grimaced.

  “It is tula-pah. It feeds the body,” Antonio informed his friend, and drank deeply from his own cup. “Tula-pah is a corn beer, but it is very strong. It must be consumed quickly because it will spoil. We have a jug here, my brother. Let us not allow it to spoil.”

  Sterling allowed him to refill his cup. “Remember when we stole into the sacristy at San Francisco de Sales and drank the holy wine?”

  Antonio nodded. “I also remember how many rosaries Mother Maria Guadalupe made us recite when she caught us. Sometimes my knees still ache from so many hours of washing the floor and praying at the same time.”

  Sterling laughed softly, then grew serious. “Antonio, how did you recognize me? Were you one of the warriors who helped capture me?”

  “No. I was not in the village when you were brought here. But when I returned, I learned a silver-eyed man had been captured. When I heard the story of my daughter, I knew you could tell me the fate of the woman whom I loved. I also longed to know if you were the silver-eyed friend I have never forgotten. When I saw you, I knew you could be no other than Sterling Montoya. Many years have passed since my eyes have seen you, but my heart has kept your face clear. I wanted to help you, but I did not know how this could be done. My people were suspicious of you, and I felt helpless until I saw the statue.

  “I knew it to be the one I helped you steal from the Reverend Mother’s office,” he continued. “I remembered its ability to glow, and the memory helped me to understand how I could aid you.” He gave Sterling more tula-pah, and settled back to continue his account.

  “The Apache are taught that life used to be very difficult,” he began to explain. “There were monsters who ate people. These monsters were Owl-Man Giant, Buffalo Monster, the Eagle Monster family, and Antelope Monster.”

  “And do you believe this too, Antonio?” Sterling asked gently. “Have you rejected Christianity?”

  “I have found many similarities between it and the Apache religion. There was a woman. She prayed for aid against the people-eating monsters. She is called White Painted Woman. While she prayed, she heard a voice. ‘When it rains, lie where the rain makes a waterfall,’ the voice told her. It said also, ‘Spread your legs so the water will flow into you.’ So White Painted Woman did that, and when she did, lightning hit her four times. She became pregnant. The voice instructed her to call the baby Child of the Water.

  “When the baby boy was born, the voice warned White Painted Woman that if Owl-Man Giant found Child of the Water, he would devour the child. The voice told White Painted Woman that when Owl-Man Giant came looking for her son, she was to hide him under a fire. The voice then told her that Child of the Water would kill all the monsters when he was old enough to shoot an arrow from a bow and that she was to ma
ke the bow when her child wanted one.

  “Owl-Man Giant came many times looking for Child of the Water, but White Painted Woman hid him each time. The years passed, and Child of the Water grew strong. One day a big thunderstorm came. There was lightning too. Child of the Water looked at the sky and told his mother he was ready to go kill all the people-eating monsters.

  “White Painted Woman was afraid for her son,” Antonio continued. “But Child of the Water insisted. He pointed to the sky and said, ‘That is my father talking to me up there.’ White Painted Woman was astonished. She looked at the lightning in the sky and said to it, ‘Your son knows you.’ Then Lightning had Child of the Water stand to the east, and black lightning struck him. Blue lightning struck him from the south, yellow from the west, and white from the north. Lightning then instructed White Painted Woman to allow Child of the Water to do as the child desired. Child of the Water wanted to go hunting. So White Painted Woman made four arrows and a bow for her son.

  “There was another, who was called Killer of Enemies. He killed many deer, but Owl-Man Giant always stole the meat from him. Killer of Enemies wanted to go hunting with Child of the Water. They went, and Killer of Enemies killed a deer. Owl-Man Giant came to steal it, but Child of the Water would not let him. Owl-Man Giant said to him, ‘Who are you that you will not let me have the meat? I will fight you. Show me your arrows.’ Owl-Man Giant laughed when he saw the small arrows Child of the Water had. The arrows of Owl-Man Giant were four sharpened pine logs. But Child of the Water was not afraid. He said to Owl-Man Giant, ‘I will kill you and all the other monsters.’

  “But before the fight began, Child of the Water heard thunder and saw lightning. Then he saw a blue rock. The rock said, ‘Pick me up. Your father sent me.’ So Child of the Water picked up the blue rock and held it to him for strength. Then the fight began. Child of the Water killed Owl-Man Giant. He killed the other people-eating monsters too. Then the world was safe.”