“Tomorrow, the padre will come to you, to show you the ways of his god and to bless you. Go … go willingly. Make yourself smile as if you understand every word.” Tijo nodded vigorously, as he felt a tide of hope rising within him. He wasn’t alone. He had Haru, and she would help him and Estrella return to their herd. “Now listen carefully.” Tijo nodded again eagerly. “When the moment comes, you and Estrella will be able to escape.”
Hope left as quietly as he had entered and then slipped into the stable, where Estrella had finally managed to fall asleep. The lacerations on her neck and shoulders were raw from the lasso that had snagged her. She stood lightly, favoring one leg, but they were all hobbled. It had only been three days, but she seemed to have shrunk and grown thinner. Her hip bones stuck out at sharp angles. Even though she appeared to be sleeping, her mouth hung open as if she were gasping for breath.
Hope did not wake her but glided into her dreams — dreams of utter despair. He caught fragments of them. There was the roll of a sea, then a sudden flash of white and the sea turned red with blood. Turbulent dreams of pain and loss and chaos and fire. But suddenly, as Hope wandered this dreamscape, the filly stirred and a sense of calm enveloped everything.
When Estrella would awake the next morning, she would know for certain that Haru had found a new spirit lodge in the coyote called Hope. She would know exactly where Tijo was imprisoned. The filly sensed that their long spirits, hers and Tijo’s, were entangled once again. It was as Haru had once said — long spirits were in essence time weavers. They wove between the oceans of time like the shuttle of her loom. Hope was now the shuttle.
Unlike Estrella, El Miedo awoke depleted and distraught from his dreams. It felt as if his mind had been licked by flames of despair, yet right at the very heart of those flames, a golden nugget had shimmered. This had to be a sign that his premonition of gold was real. But what was God demanding of him? He would have to call the padre. Before he could collect the gift God wanted to bestow upon him, he needed to make himself worthy.
And so the padre was summoned.
“Father Alonso,” he said as the plump padre came into his tent. “I fear that I have been negligent in our divine offices.” The padre’s eyes opened wide with a mixture of surprise and delight. “I feel …” El Miedo searched for the right words. “I feel that we are on the brink of a marvelous gift from the Holy Mother.” He nodded at the statue of the Virgin that was perched on a trunk. A trunk he hoped to fill with gold. “I think that although the building of our chapel is far from finished, we need to consecrate the spot where it shall be on the plaza.”
The padre clapped his hands together and tipped his face toward heaven. “Oh, praise God! Don Cristobal, I am thrilled with your decision.”
“But not only that. I think we need to begin with the conversion of the Chitzen and a blessing for the animals. For they are all our flock.”
“Yes, Don Cristobal. Yes. You shall be blessed for your thoughts. You are not only our fearless leader but a gentle shepherd of this flock.”
“Excellent. Then I think we should begin immediately.”
An hour later, Tijo was forcing himself to smile broadly up at the padre on the newly constructed plaza. His metal cuff had been removed, as had the yoke he had worn through the night. He glanced over to the horses that were being brought forward two by two, led by bridles and ropes. Tijo gasped when he saw Estrella, with her head imprisoned in that contraption of leather straps. No one led Estrella. She was the leader. Their leader. She was the very core, the heart of the first herd. But she did not seem to be fighting the bridle or the bit. In fact, she seemed almost calm. She, too, must have been visited by the spirit lodger.
Estrella spotted the statue of the Virgin ahead. It brought back memories — memories of the crossing to this new land, for there had been a carved statue similar to this one in the hold of the ship. Just before they were thrown overboard, another padre, Padre Luis, had come to bless the horses. Now they were going to be blessed along with the Chitzen. Did the Iber feel that every evil deed could be erased by a prayer? Estrella looked over at Tijo, who was directly across from her in the line of Chitzen. She could tell they were both thinking the same thing. There will be a moment. We must be patient, but it will come and then we must break away. Tijo was not that far from her. One quick leap, and he could make it onto her back. A current of energy ran through her muscles as she imagined how it would feel to gallop again.
The padre was mumbling a prayer. Estrella turned to the mare next to her. “You know the tongue of the Ibers. What is the padre saying?”
“Libre, free.”
“They are freeing us?” Estrella could see that Tijo was listening. He could understand the mare, too. They both exchanged a glance. Tijo moved himself into a slightly better position. No one seemed to notice. He moved again. He was now right beside the mare that Estella was conversing with. The mare moved just a bit and made room for Tijo to slip between her and Estrella as she continued talking.
“I don’t know. I don’t really know what the word free means anymore.” The mare sighed. “But the padre says that we must take our steps to the altar freely, of our own free will if we are to receive the blessings of the Virgin and the Holy Father above.”
“So can you tell me,” Estrella asked, “what this padre will do so we can receive the blessing?”
“Oh, it’s just the blessing of the animals. You see they are even bringing the chickens up as well as the dogs. When the padre calls us, we’ll one by one walk forward. Then he will sprinkle holy water on our heads.”
“But someone will be holding our reins?”
“No. They drop the reins. That’s what I think freely means — without rein.”
“And what about the Chitzen?”
“I think it should be the same. Of course, they have the guards with the killing sticks. They can always kill if a creature tries to run.”
Estrella looked up. She saw the guards perched on tall ladders with their killing sticks pointed down at them. “They bless and they kill?”
The mare nodded. “Yes, that is the way it is with the Ibers.”
Tijo and Estrella exchange a glance. They were in agreement. Neither of them planned to be blessed or killed.
It seemed almost miraculous, but the mare had been right. The horses and the Chitzen both advanced to the altar at the same time side by side. As each horse approached, the tethers were dropped.
Closer and closer Estrella and Tijo came. They could smell the desert flowers that festooned the altar. They could see clearly the pretty face of the Virgin even though the blue paint for her eyes was chipped, making her appear half-blind. Estrella was trembling in anticipation. Tijo was a scant distance from her, and she knew that within a few seconds, she would feel the weight of him leaping onto her back. They would be gone!
The rope dropped. The padre began his prayer.
“Benedictus es, Domine Deus, conditor omnium animalium. Vos autem sicut pisces maris et volatilibus caeli et bestiis terrae.” Blessed art Thou, O Lord God, the Creator of all living things … the fishes of the sea and the fowl of the air and the beasts of the earth you rule.
There was a slight commotion, a mule brayed, and a skittish mare shied. Then Tijo seemed to soar through the air, landing as lightly as a fly on Estrella’s back. Estrella reared and, wheeling around, charged from the throng to be blessed. The padre fell over. The Chitzen froze in stunned disbelief.
Estrella, with Tijo on her back, leapt over the altar, knocking off the statue of the pretty lady. The crack of gunfire fractured the air. Straight ahead, five Ibers ran out waving their arms, trying to block Estrella and Tijo’s escape. She leapt over them, clearing the tallest with ease. There was one building ahead but no men with firearms. We’ll make it. We’ll make it. Then, again, there was the familiar terrifying hiss. A black scrawl in the clear blue sky. The fierce burn as the rope rasped against flesh, slicing right through her pelt. She crumpled to the ground. Tijo was
beside her.
It’s over, she thought.
The coyote called Hope staggered as he watched unnoticed at the far edge of the encampment. It didn’t work. We tried so hard.
It is not the end, the voice of Haru resonated within him. Sometimes, we must fail before we can succeed. Do not abandon hope.
But looking at the frantic horse flailing on the ground, all he felt was despair.
It was with a heavy heart that Hope made his way back to the first herd. As soon as they glimpsed him returning, a dreadful foreboding stirred among them. Hope stood quietly in front of Hold On as the others crowded around. “It didn’t work,” he said dejectedly.
“You mean Estrella is still … still, and Tijo?” Hold On’s withers flinched, and his voice cracked as he spoke.
“Yes,” Hope said in a small voice.
Yazz stepped forward. “You tried.” They were by a swale of bunch grass. Tiny desert finches flitted in and out, catching insects that normally would have distracted the horses, but a mournful silence had descended on the herd. A few of the finches would land momentarily on the horses’ backs or hindquarters, but they did not even swish their tails to clear them away.
“Oh, I did try,” Hope said bitterly. “I am not much of a dream stealer or a fantastic concealer. Though I did steal into El Miedo’s sleep.”
“And what did he dream of, Hope?” Hold On asked in a flat voice.
“Glory and failure and … and gold.”
“Gold!” Hold On replied as he shoved his ears forward, suddenly alert. “There’s your answer, Hope.”
“What do you mean?”
“We must tempt him with gold.” His filmy eyes almost sparkled.
“Gold? I think that is why he wanted to bless the animals. He thought it would earn him favor with his gods, and the gods would somehow lead him to gold.”
“The Iber gods can’t show him. But you can.”
“But I have no notion of where gold can be found.” Hope felt something shift within him. Then a soft jolt deep inside. The spirit had stirred in its lodge. It was as if a hidden eye had opened inside Hope. He was seeing what the spirit of Haru had seen in her previous lodge, that of the omo owl. A bright gold nugget lay beneath the ice of a frozen creek. But how could there still be ice? Hope wondered. It was late summer now. It was winter then, a voice in his head said. Go find it!
But how? How can I find it? The omo owl is not here. The owl is no longer your lodge.
The old lodge wore thin. The knowledge does not. I am with you still. What I spied high above in flight might be there.
What did you spy — gold?
Fool’s gold. And Hope felt the spirit laugh inside him.
Hold On could feel a change in Hope. “You see the gold, don’t you?”
“I think so. Or rather it is the spirit that sees.”
“Good!” Hold On replied. “Now listen to me — all of you! I have a plan. Even if Hope finds the nugget, the gold alone will not be enough. There must be another lure, as irresistible as gold.”
“Like what?” Corazón asked.
“Us.” Arriero the dark bay stallion stepped forward.
“Us?” several of the horses repeated, exchanging worried glances.
“No. Not all of us,” Yazz said. “But some of us. Arriero especially.” The mule looked at the stallion. “Should I tell them or you, Arriero?”
“I will,” Arriero said, a distant look in his eyes. “On First Island, there was an auction. Back then, El Miedo did not have the money for the very best horses. He had not found his patron yet. But he wanted me. He was actually the one to name me Arriero the muleteer. The name stuck. He didn’t care that I was not a Pura Raza like Pego or Centello. What he liked was that I was big. Big with a short back — good for work, but fast as well.” Arriero paused. “Eventually, El Miedo found a patron, and being so vain himself, he felt he needed a horse to match the pedigree of his patron Don Esteban, the Duke of Aragon. By then he had enough money to buy all the horses he wanted. He went back to the Seeker, but the Seeker had already won me in the auction, fair and square, and would not sell me.” He shook his head. “He was certainly angry then, but in all honesty, I’m sure he hasn’t thought of me since.”
“You are being too modest, Arriero,” Yazz said. “No one could forget you.”
“And we can awaken those dreams,” Hope said softly. “We can make him remember.”
Yazz turned to Hope and fixed him with her large brown eyes. “I think you have perhaps already wakened many dreams where you might not suspect.”
“Really?”
“Truly. Didn’t the other horses see Estrella and Tijo try to escape?”
“Yes, but how does that help?”
“Though you think your mission failed, Hope, it didn’t. You have planted the seeds of freedom in their minds. They will sprout soon.”
The mare Abelinda stood off from the other horses in the corral. She was looking at the little mule Mikki, whose back was raw with oozing bloody stripes. The Ibers would kill that mule before they ever got her in the yoke, Abelinda thought. Mikki endured their abuse with a calm stubbornness that Abelinda had never seen. It was the mule’s very placidity that seemed to anger the men most. It was as if Mikki knew there was something better in this world, but it was not death. How could she believe this? Abelinda wondered. What did she believe?
She kept recalling her strange conversation with the filly Estrella. She’d asked Abelinda what the padre was saying because she did not fully understand the language of the Ibers. “The padre says that we must take our steps to the altar freely or of our own free will if we are to receive the blessings of the Virgin and the Holy Father above,” Abelinda had explained, but she herself had to confess that she did not quite understand the meaning of the word free. She felt that she might have once long ago. But she had been bought and sold so many times it was hard to recall what she might have known or learned. Both her mind and her body were owned by the Ibers. It seemed as if it always had and always would be that way. But as Estrella had approached the altar to be blessed, the filly had bolted with the young Chitzen on her back.
Abelinda had been stunned at the time and then rather relieved when they had been caught and brought back. What they had done seemed freakish and dangerous. Now, however, there was this whispering at the back of her mind, this niggling, insistent thought like a flea on her hindquarters that her tail could not swish away. The thought was that something was very wrong, and she should not have felt relief when they brought back the filly and the boy. These feelings all had to do with the strange word free.
Abelinda had thought she was too old to carry a foal, but if indeed she did carry one, would they sell it as they had the others she had borne? When Estrella had broken loose, Abelinda had seen a sparkle in the filly’s eyes, a sparkle that she had never before seen in any horse’s eyes for as long as she could remember. Was there something she should know about, must know about, if she was indeed to foal again?
Abelinda shook the thought away as she watched an Iber lieutenant walking toward the little mule. Like a black snake, a whip hung from the crook of his elbow. Another Iber officer followed with a yoke. Seconds later, she heard the crack of that whip landing on Mikki’s back, the mule refusing the yoke. The yoke … the yoke … Why would they put a yoke on one that young?
It was odd, but pieces of these elusive thoughts and this word free started to come together. Like a blossom opening in sunlight, meaning slipped into Abelinda’s mind — what was unconscious became conscious. The little mule no more than six months old should be free … I should be free … She looked across at the mule, her back slippery with blood. This is so wrong! The flower had turned into a flame, and it was burning inside of her.
Jacinto stood a short distance away. He brayed softly toward the mare. He saw something in her eyes like the lick of a small flame growing — a new sense, a revelation. Freedom! he thought. It was time to ignite that fire. “How long can this go
on?” Jacinto asked.
Abelinda lifted her head and shook it. She saw Jacinto’s shoulders tense, his ears lay back. He sprang forward and charged. The Iber lieutenant fell to the ground. Jacinto then wheeled about and bucked. His hoof struck the Iber holding the yoke. Blood spurted. The yoke dropped to the ground. The little mule ran off. A silence fell on the corral, and Abelinda bolted toward the yoke and began stomping on it. The crack of the wood rang in all the animals’ ears as loudly as that of the whip. Jacinto and Abelinda looked at each other. They both had the same thought. The yoke has been broken, and that is the first step.
The tumult caused by the mules reduced El Miedo’s camp to chaos as men were dispatched to fix the fence and retrieve the missing animals. Perfect! Hope thought as he slinked into the encampment and settled into a corner of the small cell in which Tijo was curled up, his back to him. I am watching him through the eyes and the heart of the spirit inside me. Hope felt the boy’s despair, the loss of everything he had come to love and value. Tijo sensed Hope’s presence and rolled over, regarding the coyote with the saddest eyes the creature had ever seen. Tijo was looking at him, then through him, trying to find the spirit the coyote harbored. Hope rounded his back and began coughing dryly, just the way the dogs did when coughing up a hair ball. However, it was not a hair ball that came out but instead a bright gold nugget.
“What is this?” Tijo asked wearily.
“It is what all these Ibers lust for — gold.”
“But what am I to do with it?”
“Just wait. Trust me.”
A few minutes later, Hope slipped into Estrella’s stall and coughed up an identical nugget. Then he left, uttering the same words to the same question. “Just wait. Trust me.”
Wild Blood Page 7
