by Vella Munn
Anger surged through Panther, but he was careful not to let it show. "They have become our allies. A man does not turn his back on a friend."
"Friend!" Jumper spat. He didn't look at Gaitor. "I must think of all Seminoles. If we are to live, we must listen to the white man's words. Walk another way."
Panther didn't agree, but he might be in the minority. The men who were sharing tobacco with him were free to come and go around Fort Mellon because they'd agreed to give up the Negroes who lived with them. He, on the other hand, would be thrown into the stockade if the army got their hands on him. Gaitor hadn't wanted this meeting. He'd argued that Micanopy and the other chiefs were no longer worthy of being called men because they'd gone back on their word. Only Panther could hold his head high.
But was there pride in being a fugitive?
"You say you must walk another way," he challenged Micanopy. "Is that why you are here? To tell me what that way is?"
Panther sensed a change in Micanopy and Jumper, an end to easy conversation. "We are a patient people, Panther," Jumper said. "We are not quick to fight. We want only to plant and hunt, to fish and trade. Being at war is not something that comes easily. But there's a time for the end to patience. In that, we and the army are the same."
"Are you?"
"Yes." Jumper stood. A moment later so did Cloud and Alligator. Only Micanopy remained seated. "You walk alone, Panther," he said. "Your clan is the only one that refuses to join with the others at Fort Mellon."
That wasn't true. However, the others still hiding consisted of isolated families. "I walk one way. You walk another," Panther said unnecessarily.
"No longer." Jumper stepped closer. Panther was saddened but not surprised to see him draw his knife. "General Jesup wants you; he demands to see you." Jumper spoke through lips drawn tight over his stained teeth. "Until that has happened, he will not say when we will leave Florida."
Flanked now by Jumper and Alligator, Panther willed himself not to move, to accept that men who'd once been his friends might have become his enemies. Although he had no doubt that he could kill one of them before he himself died, he wasn't ready for death.
If he was dead, the Egret clan would be without a leader. Gaitor would have lost his brother.
Dead, he would never again see Calida.
* * *
Panther and Gaitor had been gone for two days. No one knew where they were, just that they hadn't been seen since their meeting with other Seminole chiefs. Repeatedly, Calida told herself that his absence was none of her concern. But with the air around her feeling hot and heavy, it was impossible not to ask herself what had taken him from his people. She'd always believed that freedom would be a wonderful thing. To be able to go where and when she wanted—
It wasn't like that for the Seminoles. Scouts constantly searched the land around them to make sure it was safe. Children weren't allowed to roam beyond the clearing's boundaries and everyone's belongings were bundled for easy carrying should flight be necessary.
They no longer had a village; this thin soil would never grow crops. The men spent much of their time hunting, while women and children scavenged like animals. All everyone seemed to talk about was whether the army would find them and what would happen if they did.
She worried about that too, but fear for her own safety was unimportant next to her concern for her mother and Panther. Pilar was sick. She desperately wanted to return to the plantation for her mother, would have if Panther hadn't ordered her to stay here. If she hadn't been forced to admit that her mother couldn't make the long walk. Pilar wanted her daughter safe and that might be the only thing she could give her.
But to abandon her mother...
Leaving the shrinking creek where she'd been washing up, she started back toward where the clan was staying. It was so hot that it hurt to breathe. As always, she kept her eyes and ears alert for any sight or sound of Panther—and for the army. Pushing her way past heavy brush that stuck to her sticky flesh, she spotted an Indian she hadn't seen before. He was flanked by two Egret clan guards, but he wasn't acting like someone who'd been taken prisoner. Curious, she slid closer, but the newcomer was speaking so rapidly in Seminole that she understood little of what he was saying except that the conversation had something to do with Fort Mellon.
After a few minutes, the newcomer signaled that he wanted something to eat. The gathering started to break up then, small groups of Seminoles speaking quietly among themselves, occasionally glancing at her. When she approached Winter Rain, Winter Rain turned away as if to leave. "Don't, please," Calida begged. "That brave said something that upset everyone. What is it? Is Panther—has something happened to him?"
"Panther? Is he all you think about?"
"No. Of course not. But no one knows where he and Gaitor are. He isn't—"
"This is not about Panther. Micco is a Creek Indian. He wears two faces."
"Two faces?"
Winter Rain grunted as if Calida should have already understood.
"Because he has become a friend of the army men, he is free to walk among them. He was at Fort Mellon but does not want to be there anymore because there is evil in the place."
Calida needed more of an explanation but didn't want to anger Winter Rain by asking another question she'd probably consider stupid. After a minute, however, the younger woman continued. "Micco says that the hatred and distrust between Seminoles and the army grow daily. One says that the other must do something. Then the other says that that thing cannot be done until something else is."
Not sure what Winter Rain was talking about, Calida nevertheless nodded. "Did Micco say whether anyone has left for the reservation?"
"None. General Jesup says that will not happen until all Seminoles are ready, until the Egret clan joins the others. Osceola tells him that no one can speak and act for us, but the general does not want to hear that. Perhaps he is afraid that the government men will be angry with him if a single Seminole remains here."
An uneasy thought struck Calida. As far as she knew, both Panther and Gaitor had left without telling anyone where they were going. If they'd agreed to meet secretly with the army—No! Panther would never turn his clan or the Negroes over to the enemy. But what other explanation was there? "Micco looked at me several times," Calida said. "So did others. What did he say?"
"I told you."
No she hadn't, not everything. "Reddin Croon is at the fort, isn't he? That's what Micco was talking about, something Croon's been saying or doing?"
"Croon is not alone."
"What do you mean?"
"He has someone with him. A woman."
Of course he did. If at all possible, Reddin Croon wouldn't be without a woman at his disposal. "What does that have—"
"Her name is Pilar."
Calida stared stupidly at Winter Rain. "My mother?"
"Yes."
Suddenly, frighteningly, Calida understood. "I came for her once," she whispered. "He knows I'll try again."
"Are you stupid, a deer walking into a trap?"
That didn't matter. Pilar should have been left at the plantation, where she could rest and hopefully get better. Instead, she'd been forced to accompany Croon, maybe walking the whole way. "Did Micco say how she was? I have to—"
"You do not do anything!"
"You don't understand!" Calida shook her head until it throbbed. "She's sick, but he doesn't care. As long as he thinks he can use her, he'll make her, force her—My mother..." She didn't want to appear weak, but a horrible image of Pilar barely clinging to life threatened to overwhelm her. "If I'd never defied him—"
"It is too late for such talk. Micco says that Fort Mellon is full to the bursting with armed soldiers. You will never be able to reach her. Forget—"
"Forget!" It was all Calida could do not to shake Winter Rain. "I will never forget my mother. Never!"
Winter Rain returned her glare, seeming not to care or understand what had her so upset. "It does not matter what you do. N
o one can free her."
"Panther—"
"No!"
"Yes," Calida countered, although why she was arguing with Winter Rain she couldn't say. "He's the only one. He knows—he knows how to move silently, how to keep himself hidden."
"Reddin Croon captured him once; have you forgotten?"
She wouldn't let herself think about that, not with Panther her only hope. "It won't happen again. I know it won't." If only Panther were here. He had no right leaving the way he had, not when she needed him. "I'll ask him to—I'll go with him. Together we'll free her."
"Why?"
"Why? If—if she's forced to stay there, she might die."
"That is not what I am saying. Why would the Egret tastanagee risk his freedom, his life even, for your mother?"
Calida wanted to throw an answer at Winter Rain, to throw arguments at her one after another until Winter Rain stopped asking her stupid questions, but she couldn't speak. Panther had left without telling her where he was going or when he would return. Why should he? She wasn't one of his people. She was a woman who had denied life to the babies inside her.
"I'll go alone," she whispered. "I have no choice."
"Micco says she is sick. Maybe she is already dead. You risk your life for a dying woman?"
Fighting the impact of Winter Rain's words, Calida closed her eyes so she could better imagine not what her mother might look like now, but what she'd once been, the way she'd held her daughter, shared secrets with her, loved her. "She's the only person I've ever loved. I can't—I can't leave her like that."
"You already have. Twice."
Winter Rain's hard honesty pulled her out of herself. She had no idea what the other woman was thinking, but it didn't matter. "The first time I ran because she begged me to. Because I knew what he'd do with me if I stayed. I came back; I had to see her. I had to. But"—self-loathing made her sick to her stomach—"but I ran again. I was afraid, and I ran. He wants me; he's using her to get to me. I can't let her be hurt anymore. I won't." She felt exhausted.
"You would risk your life for a woman who has come to the end of hers?"
Don't say that! "She's all I have. All I've ever had." Why was she standing here arguing with Winter Rain when any more wasted time might mean her mother's death? Calida had some idea of where Fort Mellon was. Maybe she could get the Creek Indian to tell her more. At least she'd hear from his lips how her mother was faring. She could leave here today, and if the fort wasn't any farther away than she thought it was, she should reach it in no more than two days.
Two days? Did her mother have that much time?
She started toward where Micco was waiting to be fed but stopped when Winter Rain grabbed her arm. "I do not understand. Reddin Croon will kill you."
Kill? Maybe, if she was lucky.
"You risk your life? It means so little to you?"
"My mother gave me life. I have—I love her."
"More than you love your own life?"
That didn't matter. Didn't Winter Rain understand? "She's the only human being I've ever loved."
Winter Rain didn't release her. Neither did she demand more of an explanation. "You do not know how to find the fort."
"I'll ask. Micco—"
"No, not Micco. I will take you."
"You? Why?"
Winter Rain's hand fell away, but although Calida was free, she couldn't think about moving. "I can't let you take the risk," she insisted when Winter Rain didn't answer her question.
"Your mother, is she beautiful?"
"Yes," she said, although that was no longer true. "Her hands—she has such gentle hands."
"My mother's hands were gentle too," Winter Rain whispered.
* * *
She'd been wrong. Because heat sucked her strength, it had taken nearly until the third night to reach Fort Mellon. Without Winter Rain leading the way, Calida had no doubt that she would have gotten hopelessly lost trying to find the army stronghold located on the shore of Lake Monroe. They'd said little to each other, both during the long days of walking and at night when they fell asleep as soon as they'd had something to eat. Still, because Winter Rain had told her about her dead mother's gentle hands, Calida believed she understood why the other woman had agreed to guide her. Someday, she silently vowed, she would find a way to repay Winter Rain and thank her for making the journey less lonely. And she would do everything within her power to make sure Winter Rain didn't take any more of a risk than she already had.
It was dark. As the sun was setting, they'd climbed a tree and watched soldiers drive the horses inside for the night. With the memory of the fort's thick, high walls haunting her, she tried to concentrate on how to reach her mother. It couldn't happen tonight because she didn't know enough about the fort's interior, but maybe by tomorrow night... "Winter Rain?"
"What?"
"When it gets light, I want you to leave."
"What will you do?"
"I don't know yet. I—somehow I have to get inside."
"You? No."
She wanted to tell Winter Rain she was wrong, but what difference would lying make? There were hundreds of Seminoles staying inside the fort along with whatever slaves were still there, but the slaves probably weren't allowed to move about. And with her light skin, she would stand out.
"I am only another Indian woman," Winter Rain said unexpectedly. "No one will look at me."
"They'll see your Negro blood. You've done so much," she finished. "I can't have you risk—"
The sudden sound of pounding feet stopped her. She sprang up and peered into the dark, trying to make sense of what she'd heard. The distant thudding became closer, louder. She grabbed Winter Rain, thinking to shelter her behind her. Her hand brushed against something hard and sharp. Winter Rain had drawn her knife. Doing the same, she backed both of them until their buttocks came in contact with a large tree.
"What—" Winter Rain gasped.
"Quiet!"
She heard a woman's excited voice followed almost immediately by a child's cry. It now seemed as if a hundred people were running toward her, but that made no sense.
Sense or not, it was happening.
Again and again like a human wave, people passed on either side of them. Some of the runners must have realized there were others besides them out there, but they were only interested in putting distance between themselves and the fort and didn't so much as slow their pace.
Someone laughed. A moment later someone else did the same. Concentrating, Calida made out individual bodies. When she saw an older man lumbering her way, she planted herself in front of him. He stopped and might have fallen if she hadn't grabbed him. Calling on the Seminole she'd learned, she quickly identified herself as a runaway slave and asked him what was happening.
"They lie!" the man bellowed. "The bluecoats cannot be trusted."
"Is everyone running away?"
"Everyone!" He laughed. "The army men are stupid. Hadjo. Crazy! They think Osceola is sick and a fool, but he is not. He has seen through their lies. We are not cattle. We will not be taken from our land." He struggled in her grip. She needed to let him go, but first she had to know what the army men were doing.
"I do not care," he insisted. "They are the cattle, stupid creatures waiting for knives to pierce their hearts."
"Are they following you?"
"It does not matter. Osceola and the other chiefs say we are to leave. We leave." He started to struggle again, and this time she released him. She looked around for Winter Rain, but there were so many shadowy figures that she couldn't tell one from the other.
A musket blast shattered the night air and sent unseen birds to squawking. "Calida!" Winter Rain gasped. "What—"
"The army!" They were coming after the Seminoles. That meant they were leaving the fort and wouldn't so much as look at her if she snuck into it. Not bothering to tell Winter Rain what she intended to do, she began weaving her way through brush and bodies toward where she believed her mother to be.
<
br /> "Calida? No!"
"I have to find her! I have—"
Winter Rain grabbed her flying hair, forcing her to stop. "You can't!" she gasped. "They will kill you!"
Although it brought tears to her eyes, Calida managed to yank her hair out of Winter Rain's grasp. She couldn't think about anything except her mother; if Winter Rain didn't already understand that, she never would. Silent, she again started running. Just as silent, Winter Rain kept pace.
The heavy fort doors hung open. Light from a half dozen burning torches made it possible for her to see that. A stream of Seminoles continued to pour out of the opening, and although soldiers occasionally discharged their weapons, she didn't see any Indians fall. Twice someone ran into her; once she was knocked to her knees. Still, she managed to make her way into the fort. Even more torches burned in here. Everything was confusion, Seminoles and army men struggling, yelling, horses milling about. The stench of long-unwashed bodies assaulted her. The air felt old and trapped, so hot she could barely breathe. Trapped? No, she didn't dare think about that.
She made out several small structures that reminded her of the shelters at the plantation used to protect crops from rain. That might be where some of the army men stayed, not that it mattered. A number of slapdash chickees had been erected in the center, and near them were circles for sitting made of rocks and logs.
Her attention was drawn to something that resembled an animal corral. Its wooden gate was closed, but there was enough space between the logs that she spotted a dark face peering out from a crack. This must be where the runaways were forced to stay. She started toward it but stopped because Reddin Croon would want to keep her mother close to him.
The shelters? No. There wasn't anyone in them. But the handful of tents might be places for officers to stay. She began to shake at the thought of encountering Croon, but her determination was stronger than her fear. Her mother? In there? Not breathing, she placed one foot in front of the other.
Before she could take another step, someone called her name.
Chapter 15
Spinning around, Calida found herself face-to-face with Gaitor. "Git out!" he ordered. "Git out whiles you can!"
