The Zuni defenders shot arrows at the horses and rained stones into the main body of the force. The Spaniards returned fire with crossbows and muskets. It was over in less than ten minutes. The remaining defenders, along with the women and children, ran off for the surrounding hills.
The victors entered the city to find meager stores of grain, two small emeralds and assorted pieces of garnet and agate. Bando rode around the corn flour perimeter scanning the horizon. Juan grabbed his notebook, sat down and began to sketch the fallen city. He was putting on the finishing touches when Bando came riding in so fast that he nearly trampled the seated Juan.
"What in God's name--" shouted Juan.
"Follow me, I know this place," said Bando, as he spurred his horse and took off like a shot for the southeast. Juan leapt up and hastily put his pad away. He was on his horse and hot on Bando's heels in moments. They rode at full gallop down a dusty foot trail that ended at a small lake. Juan sat up in his saddle and reined in his horse, but Bando kept going at full speed right up to the edge of the lake where his horse veered to the right and abruptly stopped, sending Bando flying out of the saddle head over heels into the water. Juan, suppressing a laugh, dismounted and walked to the water's edge.
The lake had a white circle of salt around the edge. Dark footprints lay scattered in the white crust along the bank.
Bando emerged from under the brackish water and began to shout, and laugh incoherently as he splashed around. Juan's amusement had turned to confusion. "What is this place? What are you babbling about?"
Bando turned around and shouted enthusiastically "Juan, I came here for salt with my father. Everybody comes here for salt. Juan, I have been here before. We are close!"
"Do you remember where to go from here?" said Juan, loud enough to be heard over Bando's splashing.
"Yes!" shouted Bando, continuing to frolic.
"Well, which way?" asked Juan impatiently.
"That way!" screamed Bando in between laughs, "That way, That way!" He pointed to the northwestern mountains beyond Hawikuh.
Juan walked along the bank, leaving Bando to his moment. It was a moment Juan knew. It is that moment when you become vindicated and no longer crazy, when the tally of all that others have told you is wiped clean. It is that moment when you step back in time to meet yourself, when you realize what you are by remembering who you've been. It is in that moment that you find peace. It is a moment that had been felt on the earth by only 14 people before, and now 15, Juan thought as he watched his companion float easily on his back in the salt water and look up at an empty blue sky.
Coronado set up his headquarters in the vacated city of Hawikuh. His plan was to send out reconnaissance parties to determine if any of the neighboring tribes harbored anything of value. There were two traveled footpaths leaving Hawikuh, one to the east and one to the northwest, Bando's route home. Juan and Bando volunteered to scout for the second group and received orders to leave four days ahead of Captain Tovar[31], and the main body of the second reconnaissance group. Coronado came to see off Juan and Bando. If Bando was right, Juan thought, he would never see Don Francisco Vasquez de Coronado again. Juan realized if he found gold he would have to return to the south alone or with Bando, but not with anyone from the main force. If he wanted it all he knew he would have to return alone. Bando said long goodbyes to the friends he had made among the ranks. Both riders made their plans.
The smooth, well worn trail made riding easy. "How far is it to Latsei?" asked Juan.
"Five days walk. Two with horses I think," said Bando over his shoulder.
"Is it on this trial?"
"No, tomorrow we go north off the trail and into the mountains. We are close." said Bando.
"Bando, do the Latsei have weapons like the Zuni had?" asked Juan.
"Yes, they have arrows to hunt animals and many, many rocks," answered Bando without looking back.
"Will they welcome us as the Zuni did?"
"We were not welcome with the Zuni," answered Bando.
"Will we be welcome with the Latsei?"
"Yes. They are my family. I told you already."
'You don't have any family now. You have only yourself,' Juan thought. 'And I have only you to protect me.' "How will you approach them when we arrive?" he asked.
"We will ride in," answered Bando.
'Great, just like Coronado,' Juan thought.
He spurred his horse up next to Bando's white mare. "There are some things you need to know about the others like us that I spoke of before. If anything should happen to us, if we are separated or killed, I want you to know how to find them, and how to find me again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand. What do you think will happen?" asked Bando, slowing to Juan's speed.
"I don't know what will happen. I don't think anything will happen, but you need to know this just in case," said Juan. They rode two abreast. "Do you see this?" asked Juan, pointing to the tattoo on the back of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger.
"Yes, I see it."
"It is the symbol that all 14 of us use to mark ourselves. It is called the embe. If we are killed, I want you to know how to find me again. If we are killed, you will remember what I'm about to tell you just like you remember this place and your first family. There is a city called Zurich next to a lake in the mountains of central Europe. All 14 of us have a different home but we always gather in this city on the longest day of summer. To the north of the lake and west of the river there is a small red brick church. The back door of this church has this symbol on it," Juan said as he pointed to his tattoo. "This is where we meet and if we are killed, it is where I will meet you when we both remember again. Do you understand?" Juan asked. Bando nodded. "We will meet in the summer, when the days are the longest." Bando nodded again. "Good," Juan said, contented with his directions. "Good."
"We turn here," said Bando, veering off the trail toward a narrow valley snaking north into higher country. "Tomorrow we'll be home."
They rode past sundown. Bando lead until they could no longer see the trail and would have continued had Juan not complained of hunger and asked Bando to catch a rabbit. Bando returned with dinner before Juan had set up for a fire and hovered around the camp as if they were going to mount up immediately after Juan had finished his last bite. "You should get some sleep Bando, you'll have a busy day tomorrow."
"Yes, sleep now," Bando said, jumping into his bed roll as if to sleep quickly and get it over with. Juan crawled into his roll and looked at his stirring companion through the dying flames.
Bando woke Juan before dawn but after he had already stowed his own gear. Juan stumbled half awake in the dark to where he had tied his horse.
Bando took notice when Juan donned the armor breastplate he bought in Compostela. It was only the third time he had seen him wear it. First at the parade in Compostela, then before Hawikuh, and now. It fit him poorly, hanging clumsily off his svelte frame. It was fashioned for a man six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier and made Juan look like a little boy not quite ready for his elder brother's hand me downs. Juan grunted as he hoisted himself into the saddle and followed Bando into the first light of the day.
By midday Juan had loosened the leather straps on the breastplate that were digging into his shoulders. "What does this place look like, what are we looking for?" asked Juan.
"It is a city in the rocks, that rock," Bando said, pointing to the top of a bluff in the distance. It came into full view past the next bend in the trail. At the base of the sandstone bluff lay a vertical community of some thirty buildings of different sizes built one upon another to make a three story collage of stone walls and ladders perched beneath a great stone cantilever stretching upward for one hundred feet.
Bando stopped his horse and dismounted. "This is my home." Bando's voice cracked as he spoke the words.
Juan stayed in the saddle, tightened the leather straps on the breastplate again, and secured the chinstrap of his helmet. "Are yo
u ready?" asked Juan nervously.
Bando nodded, not looking away from the village, "Leave the horses, we'll walk from here."
The village started to buzz with activity as they approached. They had been spotted. Juan turned around to look at his horse but it was already lost in the distance. He remembered how the horses had struck fear into the Zunis and couldn't decide whether or not he wanted that factor of intimidation now. Probably not. Hopefully not. He didn't fear death itself; he had died 8 times already. You never remember anything immediately after death, but you never forget the pain that always precedes it. It makes you cling to life even in old age as a cripple or an invalid. It was that same pain that he feared now. Juan turned toward the village again and Bando was already fifty paces ahead and walking briskly toward the gathering crowd of villagers, his head held high, his shoulders back . Fifty to sixty of them gathered at the edge of the compound. Men, women, and children dressed in earth tones and adorned with silver retreated into a semicircle around Bando as he approached them. Slowly, the semicircle closed in on him, children first, then women and finally men. The young African stood head and shoulders above them and appeared as a black beacon in the concaved assemblage. The children fearlessly walked up and touched his ebony skin, then drew back and giggled. The taller children and some women reached out to touch his wooly hair and full Negroid lips. Bando turned around and Juan could see small rivulets of tears glistening on his face. Bando was too emotional to speak but he didn't have to. His eyes relayed the message to Juan as the crowd continued to close on him. Bando spoke in their esoteric tongue and the crowd took two steps back in unison.
"No, it is okay, do not be afraid. I have traveled very far to see you, all of you," Bando said to them wiping the tears away.
"No, it is not okay, stand away from him," a booming voice shouted from the back of the crowd. "Stand away I said!" the voice commanded again. A man who looked to be their chief rapidly climbed a ladder up to the top of a stone wall overlooking the crowd. He wore old weathered deer hides and a large silver necklace. Standing atop the wall, he began to shout again. "Stand away, stand away! He is Masaudu of the underworld, look at his skin," bellowed the chief.
"No, I am Nez-lah, the silver shaper," answered Bando. Everyone in the crowd took another step back.
"Nez-lah is dead," dismissed the leader.
"I am he, in this body."
The chief narrowed his eyes at Bando. "Nay, it is a trick. This is not possible. He has come for our spirits," said the chief.
"Where is my mother Tisho, and my father Kawaka? They will know their son," shouted Bando.
"They are dead," answered the chief stoically. "Kawaka is dead for 14 seasons, and Tisho last winter. You of all people should know that, you accepted them into the earth."
Several voices shouted from the crowd, "He is evil, look at his skin. He has come to take us to the underworld. Devil!"
Juan couldn't understand the words but the tone was unmistakable. He placed his hand on his sword and started to slowly step backward when a small but clear female voice called out from the crowd.
"I would know Nez-lah," said the voice. Bando turned to see his defender. It was Teszin, the woman he had loved as Nez-lah. She appeared through the parting crowd, her long black hair, now streaked with gray, fell over her shoulders and the painted buckskin poncho she wore. Bando recognized her immediately, he also noticed the lack of braids that a married woman would have. The crowd closed in behind her as she reached the interior of the semicircle.
She said nothing as she looked him over from head to foot. Bando was silent and still as a statue. She placed her ear on his bare chest and asked, "What is the name that Nez-lah called me by?"
Bando looked at her curiously. "Little deer," he said, enjoying the feel of her on his skin.
She gasped and bolted upright, putting her hand to her mouth. "Nez-lah?"
"Yes my little deer, I have come back."
"But how is this so?" she said placing her hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently.
Bando smiled at her touch. "I have a new body, but I am Nez-lah and I remember my life here."
"It's a trick!" shouted the chief. "Only an evil spirit could know this. And just look at him. It is a trick, he has come for all of us." The crowd was becoming agitated.
"Silence!" Teszin shouted at the chief. "I am the senior mage and I will determine if he is Nez-lah or if he is not." The chief stood glaring at her from his vantage. "Follow me," she said to Bando, as she led him through the crowd toward her doorway at the far end of the village.
Juan watched the action twenty five feet from the open part of the semicircle. As Bando disappeared into the mass they turned their focus on him. They slowly encircled him, marveling at his polished chest and head. They approached in the same manner as they had with Bando only with less apprehension, touching the cold metal of his breastplate and helmet. The chief pushed his way angrily through the inquisitive crowd, stood in front of Juan and uttered one long unintelligible sentence.
Juan stared at him without blinking and in that moment decided that he would say nothing. This had always worked before whenever he had ventured into lands that had never seen races other than their own. It always lends an air of superiority and piousness to you, he thought, which beat looking like the scared stranger you were.
The chief spoke again, the syllables sounded the same as the ones before. Juan stiffened and threw his chest out underneath his polished oversized armor. The chief looked puzzled and stepped halfway around Juan, looking at him as one might admire a sculpture. Juan followed him with his eyes only and stood completely still. The chief straightened in front of Juan and smiled. His teeth were yellow and irregular and looked as if they belonged to a man in his sixties, not the forty year old standing before him. The chief smiled broadly as he continued to speak at Juan.
Juan looked around and noticed the expressions of the faces in the crowd had changed from inquisitive to cordial. They began to talk among themselves while they pointed at him. Juan felt the corners of his mouth begin to curl upwards, his hand still on his sword. He smiled out of self preservation, still expecting an unseen arrow or stone to come at any moment. He forced a pensive grin back at the chief who grew brighter and showed even more of his yellow teeth. The chief stepped back toward the village and motioned for Juan to follow. Juan took a step and the crowd shadowed it, and hovered around him all the way to the center of the complex.
The chief stopped in front of a rug covered doorway and abruptly went inside. He returned immediately with a woven blanket, which he laid on the ground in front of the portal to his house. He sat cross-legged on the blanket and motioned for Juan to do the same. When Juan sat, the bottom of the breastplate hit the tops of his thighs and pushed up uncomfortably against his chin. He forced the same stolid smile.
Two women appeared from the crowd with painted earthen cups and a large, hollowed, yellow gourd. The younger of the two women sat the cups down on the blanket in front of them and began to pour a thin milky colored liquid from the gourd into the cups in equal amounts.
The chief raised a cup to his lips and drank deeply, finishing it in a one long swallow. Juan mimicked the chief's movements, but when the cup was at his mouth, he inhaled deeply through his nostrils and immediately gagged in revulsion. It smelled like spoiled grain. Juan felt the crowd watching him. He exhaled sharply through his nose and forced down the concoction. The chief laughed as Juan fought to keep his drink down. He kept swallowing, but it felt like it was lodged halfway down his throat. The young woman filled the cups again before Juan could stop her. He turned green and blinked his eyes erratically. He knew he would never get another one down. But the chief covetously raised his cup again, beckoning Juan to do the same. Juan watched as the chief finished his second cup and smiled broadly at him as the older man sat his empty cup in front of Juan's full one. Juan took his cup and filled the chief's, who showed his yellow teeth and nodded thankfully. Juan turned his cup
upside down on the blanket. The chief drank again as the crowd stirred at Bando's reappearance with Teszin.
She walked up to the chief, still seated, and motioned for the female attendants to leave. "He is Nez-lah," she said, looking above him to where his face would be if he were standing.
The chief looked up at Teszin's indifferent face. ""How can you be sure woman?"
"He knows things only Nez-lah could know."
"Like the temperature of your passions eh?" smirked the chief. Teszin glared directly into his eyes and drew a long breath, threatening to lash back out at him, but the chief stood up and held his hand out with the palm exposed, interrupting her.
He turned toward Bando, "If you are Nez-lah," he said sarcastically, "then tell me how long it took you to make this collar?" The chief removed his buckskin tunic to fully reveal a collar made from five connected, roughly finished silver discs attached in the back with two rawhide thongs.
"It only took me two days," said Bando.
"How can this be?" asked the chief. "If you are Nez-lah, then you could make another in two days, yes?"
"Yes," said Bando.
"Then you have two days to prove yourself. If you do it, you may stay here; if not, you go. Agreed?" he asked Bando.
"Yes," said Bando.
"Agreed?" the chief asked Teszin.
She looked at Bando, then back at the chief and nodded. "I still have your tools," she said gently to Bando. "And there is a place for you to work undisturbed. I will show you." She led Bando by the hand back to her door.
The Reincarnationist Papers Page 26
