The Soul Survivors Series Boxed Set

by Vella Munn

  "They will be covered by mud then. No one will have to bury them."

  "I would love to see that," Whe-cha admitted. "Soon there will be nothing except bones sticking out of the mud."

  Although she laughed, Luash's heart felt heavy. They were talking nonsense because they didn't want to think about a storm in their faces and branches sticking into their backs, about the never-ending disagreements between Kientpoos and Cho-ocks over whether they would meet with the peace commission. If a tent collapsed while Jed was in it—what was she thinking about? No one lied from the weight of snow. Jed might have to sleep beside a campfire if his tent was destroyed, but except for not being able to leave the army headquarters, the storms would cause him no great inconvenience. Maybe if it snowed long enough, he'd forget the heat and humidity of where he'd grown up.

  Whe-cha's shout of greeting pulled her out of her thoughts, two girls had called out to the returning women. She waved to them, then turned around so the girls could see how much wood he'd gathered. She helped Whe-cha shed her load, then bent over her uncle's wife could lift the pile off her back.

  "I want it to be spring," Whe-cha groaned. "To hear songbirds and see flowers pushing through the ground—I would be happy then. Except for"—she pointed west—"except for the army. Sometimes I pray the earth will open up and cover them with hot lava."

  Luash said nothing, trying to concentrate on what she was doing. Whe-cha touched her arm. "You do not want them burned?"

  "It will not happen."

  "I know. It is only a foolish girl's thoughts. But if you could kill them, would you?"

  "I do not want death for anyone."

  "Maybe you do not want death for the man who came here a few days ago." She looked sharply at the younger woman. "I saw the truth in your eyes. I watched the way you looked at him, how close you walked to him. I even felt the thunder and lightning my husband talked about. This was not the first time you have been with him."

  The girls had passed out of earshot. She was tired of the questions hammering inside her head. She admitted the truth of what Whe-cha said.

  "An army man? Why would you talk to him?"

  "Maybe because a deer watches a cougar so it will know it enemy," she explained, then shook her head as if denying her own words. She reminded Whe-cha of the time when Lieutenant Jed Britton had kept her from running into a burning wickiup. It was harder to explain why she'd allowed him to see her and Eagle together.

  "Luash!" Whe-cha gasped when she'd finished. "Eagle is not for the eyes of our enemies."

  "I know," she said, then sighed. "My thoughts are that the army is not a cougar, which must kill in order to live. Maybe, if we looked at them not as our enemy, but as people with the same thoughts and hearts, this war would end."

  "The same hearts? They say we are cattle to be herded where they order. When I hear they will send us elsewhere if we surrender or are defeated, my heart breaks."

  So did hers. To never again watch the sun touch distant Mount Shasta or watch shy rabbits hide under a low-growing sage—or to feel Eagle's wing on her cheek... "But if they know what is inside us," she pressed, "that our children mean as much to us as theirs do to them—that is why I let the lieutenant see me and Eagle together. I prayed that he would understand and take his understanding back to the army."

  "And has he?"

  She couldn't answer that. He didn't look at her with hatred; he wanted her as a man wants a woman, but whether he had told his general about the tule doll he'd held the other day, she didn't know. Although the rock near her was snow-covered, she sat on it, her attention drawn to the dancing flakes settling around Whe-cha's head. "The more distance between two people, the less one knows about the other."

  "Maybe. Who is to say how it is with them."

  "I say we have to try. The army men call you Lizzie. Have you told them your real name?"

  "Ha! They did not care; when we were at Lost River and they came, I was afraid to talk to them."

  "Maybe it is not wise to let fear rule us."

  Whe-cha stared down at her, her features slightly blurred by the storm. After a moment, she clamped her hand over her reddened nose. "I do not want to talk to soldier men. I want it to be spring so I can watch fawns chase after their mothers. I—I want a baby in my arms and to think of nothing except holding it to my breast."

  So, although she'd never told anyone, did Luash.

  * * *

  Heart beating erratically, Luash walked beside one of Kientpoos's sisters, Ko-a-lak-a, who the whites called Queen Mary. The women and several men were traveling from the stronghold to Gillem's newly moved camp near Antelope Bluff. The journey had taken the better part of the morning because, although the distance wasn't long, the group had followed the shoreline, stopping more than once so one of them could dig for clams while the rest kept watch for soldiers.

  Despite the sun's welcome warmth, she felt chilled and barely aware of the mud that was replacing the earlier frozen ground. With her and Ko-a-lak-a were Ha-kar-Jim, Cho-ocks, and five other braves. If her uncle hadn't told her he needed her knowledge of English, her understanding of Ha-kar-Jim and Cho-ocks, she gladly would have remained behind.

  Three times more in the two weeks since Jed had been there, white men had come to the stronghold to make promises of what would happen if the Modocs surrendered. Although Kientpoos didn't trust their words of amnesty, Ha-kar-Jim and his followers insisted on going to the army general to hear more. And because she loved and feared for her uncle, she had agreed to accompany the young braves. Maybe, she prayed, there was truth behind this thing called peace talk. As they neared the army camp, with its dirty tents sprinkled like piles of sand between Antelope Butte and the lake, she felt hostile eyes on her and prayed Jed was among the soldiers. If he would speak for her, she would be safe.

  Ha-kar-Jim, dressed in a calico shirt, ragged pants, and the work boots he'd taken from one of the ranchers he'd killed, laughed as he looked around. "I will demand many horses," he boasted. "The army men must pay me well if they do not want me to put my bullets in any more settlers."

  Earlier Ha-kar-Jim had said he was tired of hiding behind rocks and was ready for life to go back to what it had been before they fled to the lava beds. Surely he didn't believe he would be treated as if he was nothing more than a naughty child. But he must; otherwise, why would he come here, when so many whites wanted him to hang for his crimes?

  Before they reached the first tent, they were surrounded. Luash was overwhelmed by the sight of more soldiers than there were winter eagles. Someone called out in English for them to stand where they were. They obeyed.

  The eagles were gone, migrated, all except for Eagle.

  A tall, sad-eyed man with a full beard stepped toward them. Both by the way the other soldiers stared at him and his fancy uniform, she guessed he was a high-ranking officer. He introduced himself as General Canby, then demanded to know what they were doing here when a group of his men had been dispatched to speak to Captain Jack at the stronghold. When her aunt and some of the braves looked puzzled, Luash interpreted for them.

  "I have listened to your talking men," Ha-kar-Jim announced in halting English. "Their words made my heart glad. I want to surrender."

  "Now?"

  Ha-kar-Jim threw out his chest. "Your talking men say that if we agree to go to a reservation, maybe I will not be punished for what I did. This I will talk about."

  General Canby's eyes narrowed at that. Muttering from the armed whites left no doubt that everyone, even those who had never been face to face with a Modoc, realized that a suspected murderer was in their camp. For a moment Luash thought they would all be killed, but although the soldiers continued to grumble, no one lifted a weapon. Instead, they watched their general.

  "For a long time I heard talk of taking us to the coast," Ha-kar-Jim continued, obviously loving the attention. "Then the talk was of Arizona. I would like that; they say it is warm in this Arizona. Only now I hear that we must go to a place f
ar from here called Indian Territory. It does not matter."

  Not matter? She could barely concentrate. She and Ha-kar-Jim had grown up together; she'd once believed they looked at the world through the same eyes. But maybe it was different for a man. Maybe a man thought only of staying alive, not where that life—and the lives of his children—would be lived out.

  The general was saying something; she struggled to catch up. "What about Captain Jack?" Canby asked. "He's willing to agree to this?"

  Ha-kar-Jim shrugged. Translating for the Modocs who didn't understand English, she waited for Ko-a-lak-a to say something, but Kientpoos's sister only stared, first at one soldier and then another. "I do not know what is in my uncle's heart," Luash told General Canby, reluctantly calling attention to herself. "He believed Ha-kar-Jim simply wanted to talk to you, not give himself up."

  "Maybe it does not matter," Cho-ocks interrupted before she could say anything else. "Without his warriors, Kientpoos will become a lonely old man. No one will care if he spends the rest of his life in a cave."

  Alone in a cave? This from the tribe's shaman!

  "Then what you're saying is, you braves are interested in amnesty?" General Canby prodded. "It doesn't matter to you what Jack does?"

  "Kientpoos speaks for himself," Cho-ocks insisted. "I am here to receive the army's peace gifts."

  General Canby's heavy eyebrows shot up at that. "I don't know what you've heard or not heard, but nothing final about terms of surrender has come from me. Wait here. You'll be safe."

  Calling several soldiers to him, he turned his back on the Modocs and started toward his tent. Maybe, she thought, the general was no different from her uncle in that both men needed time with their thoughts and the words of others before making a decision. She also wondered if it was any easier for the general to know his mind and heart than it was for Kientpoos.

  "Luash."

  Although it was all she could do not to spin around, she forced herself to turn slowly. Still, she guessed that if anyone looked into her eyes, they would know that her heart now beat like that of a trapped bird. Jed, wearing a fine-looking uniform that followed the lines of his body, stood so close that she could almost reach out and touch him. If she hadn't been so intent on hearing what the general and Ha-kar-Jim and Cho-ocks had to say, she already would have sensed his presence.

  "I have to go with him," he said, gesturing at the general's back, not seeming to Care who might overhear. "Stay here with the others. Don't do anything that'll make anyone uneasy."

  Did Jed really think these stern-faced army men were afraid of her? But when his features remained grave, she realized he was warning her that a sudden or unexpected move on her part might result in bloodshed. He continued to look at her long after he should have gone with his general, his eyes dark and—she believed—touched with concern for her.

  Finally, though, he headed toward the largest tent, and although she tried not to stare, she couldn't pull herself free until he'd gone inside. She heard Ha-kar-Jim laugh and say something to the shaman, heard Ko-a-lak-a admonish him. Ha-kar-Jim only laughed again before turning his rifle over to the nearest soldier. Once he'd shown everyone he was unarmed, he walked over to a huge fire pit where several men were roasting a cow and held out his hand, indicating he wanted to eat.

  Was this a game to Ha-kar-Jim, and to Cho-ocks, who was now handing his rifle to another soldier? They believed no one would make them pay for killing settlers as long as they agreed to go to a reservation? Maybe they'd simply wanted an excuse to see the army camp. And maybe Cho-ocks had done magic to protect both him and Ha-kar-Jim.

  Luash didn't want to be near the others, but when even Kientpoos's sister joined them, she hurried after them. Although she held her blanket tight around her, she was all too aware of the way many of the men looked at her. Eagle wasn't here today; Eagle couldn't protect her from a man's strength. Only Jed might be able to, but he was with his general.

  * * *

  "I don't know what they're up to," Jed admitted when General Canby asked for input. "The last thing I ever expected was to see Hooker Jim or Curley Headed Doctor here."

  "Maybe there has been a split between them and Captain Jack," another officer observed. "If we've managed to divide them—"

  "Don't count on it." The words weren't all the way out of his mouth before Lieutenant Gillem, who stood to General Canby's right, nodded agreement. "These people aren't stupid," Jed continued. "They know what will happen if they lose their unity. My guess? Hooker's here to look things over. He's got his shaman with him, so he feels safe, and why shouldn't he, after that fiasco when we tried to take the stronghold. He figures we're so eager to put an end to things that we'll listen to anything he says. You don't see Jack, do you? They know better than to have all their leaders in one place at the same time."

  General Canby stroked his beard and nodded, but said nothing. Jed assumed Canby was thinking of other possibilities. Luash and the others might be looking for the horses that had been stolen from them back in November. Jed knew all too well how the soldiers would react to having a good-looking young woman in camp. After months of nothing except the few whores who hung around, more than one soldier would be weighing the consequences of satisfying his needs with an unarmed Modoc woman.

  "I have to see this as a positive move," General Canby declared. "Jed; you gave them a clear picture of what the peace commission hopes to accomplish. Maybe, after thinking it over, they decided not to wait for it to assemble. They took your visit, and the ones that came after it, as acts of good faith. What I want all of you to do"—he leaned forward as if about to impart some vital secret—"is to afford them the utmost courtesy. And make sure the men under you do the same."

  Gillem insisted that would be all but impossible, since a number of local ranchers were in camp and probably would like nothing better than to spill Modoc blood. Canby's reply was that the ranchers had to be made to understand that their personal wishes and needs came second to ending things peacefully.

  The moment Jed and Colonel Gillem stepped back outside, Gillem grumbled that the general was once again allowing his decisions to be dictated by distant politicians who had no inkling of the actual situation. When Gillem began to pontificate about how he would handle things, Jed stopped listening.

  Looking around, he spotted Luash and Captain Jack's sister standing near the shore of Tule Lake. A number of soldiers had followed at a not-too-discrete distance and were making lewd comments about what they would do if they got either woman alone. When he called her name, Luash took several steps in his direction, then stopped. Damn, how could anyone dressed in simple deerskin, with a single white feather braided into her long, flowing hair, look so beautiful? "You're all right?" he asked, battling his body's need for her.

  She nodded, but her eyes gave away her unease. Not giving a damn what anyone might think, he walked up to her and touched her shoulder, indicating he wanted her to come with him. The last time they were together, she'd kept her distance until he'd taken her in his arms. Today she all but crowded him, her slim legs occasionally brushing against his. He wondered if Queen Mary might join them. Instead, the older woman boldly walked up to a couple of soldiers and began a spirited conversation with them. He'd heard Mary had been mistress to several miners before things went to hell. Obviously, she had no hesitancy about being around whites.

  Luash glanced over her shoulder at Mary, then looked up at Jed, her features grim. "You don't much like the way she acts, do you?" he asked.

  "I do not understand it. To care so little for her own body... but maybe that is how it should be."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Her heart does not beat as if it might break from her chest when she looks at so many soldiers," Luash said with a small smile. "She is comfortable here; she understands men."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. I have to tell you, Hooker and Curley Headed Doctor's coming here really has people confused."

  "Ha-kar-Jim in many ways is stil
l a boy. He does what he wants, then later asks himself if it was wise."

  "Maybe. Is he sorry he went on that rampage?"

  "I do not think he cares." She looked slowly all around, small and quiet, more than a little awe in her eyes. "There are so many soldiers; they're like ants climbing endlessly out of their underground home."

  "What it is is overkill."

  "Kill?"

  "Bad choice of words. And, unless someone does something incredibly stupid, that's not going to happen today. Do you want me to show you around?"

  He could tell she was giving his offer serious thought, but when she shook her head, he wasn't surprised. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was expose her to any more vulgar stares.

  "This is where I live." He indicated his tent, which had barely survived the last fierce wind. "Where I sleep, anyway. Other than that, I try to be here as little as possible." Without asking if she wanted to come inside, he pulled back the tent flap. He and Wilfred never left a lantern lit when they weren't in the tent. As a consequence, the interior was so dim that Luash wouldn't be able to see anything as long as she stood outside. For a moment she pressed her hand tight against her stomach and he guessed she wanted to turn and run. Finally, though, she stepped through the opening.

  "It smells."

  "Yeah, it does. I've gotten used to it."

  "This is your home?"

  Home. Hers had once been the land as far as he could see in all directions. "It's where I sleep."

  "And when you are no longer needed here, will you take this tent with you?"

  "It belongs to the army. It was issued to me for this campaign."

  She hadn't moved since coming inside, but now she stepped to the center and looked up at the ridgepole holding it in place. "The wind does not tear it apart?"

  "It hasn't yet, but it's gotten close a couple of times."

  "I would not want a home that winter can destroy." Her gaze strayed to his cot and then to Wilfred's. When she asked who else slept there, he told her that as officers he and his friend were afforded more luxury and privacy than the enlisted men. He nearly laughed at the word luxury, because other than the cots and blankets, the only other things in the small space were his and Wilfred's trunks and their weapons. The lantern was suspended from the ceiling and he and Wilfred were always having to duck to keep from hitting their heads on it. For heat, they had to rely on the camp-fires, and as for cleaning up, well, there was always the lake.