by Linda Benson
“This was shortly after the Dark Days, and many people lived in caves and were afraid to venture far. But this group of people, these horse people, camped in a high valley near a flowing stream. The few horses they possessed were guarded and treasured.”
“And what did they do with their horses?” asked Nehalem.
“Why, they rode them, of course.”
People began to mumble, now, but William shushed them.
“This clan from the West traveled far across the desert on the backs of these animals, searching for news of other clans. I can still see them getting the horses ready to ride.” William closed his eyes as if seeing it in his mind. “Some had leather trappings on their back, and many wore fancy headgear, with braided rawhide and silver medallions. Like the one you wear, at your neck,” William said, nodding at Sahara.
She shivered, touching the treasured medallion at her throat.
“In fact, when the moon was full,” William lowered his voice, playing to the crowd now, “they gathered up the fastest of the horses and raced, galloping wildly across the open prairie, with a sound like rolling thunder.”
The crowd in the dining hall gasped.
Sahara trembled inside.
William continued. “As I said, it was far, far to the West. I never returned there, but stories have come my way. Disease took most of these people, the few that were left scattered, and what became of their horses, I do not know. Became wild, I guess, and survived on their own.”
“Perhaps this is true,” said Nehalem. “We have seen herds of horses on our travels recently, especially since the climate is changing.”
“Ah,” said William, stroking his long gray beard. “Animals of great beauty, are they not?”
Evan stood then, and his voice rang out from the back of the room clear as a bell. “Yes, and the hunters would have butchered them, if it weren’t for Sahara. She is the girl who remembered horses.”
William turned to Sahara, searching her face. “You remembered them?” he said. “Where do you come from, girl? Who are your parents?”
It was almost a cruel question, in front of everyone. And it touched a raw nerve, because Sahara did not know completely.
“My mother,” she began, clutching the silver talisman around her neck. But Sahara’s tongue would not work, and she could not finish the sentence. She searched frantically across the crowd for Laurel, who stood up from her seat next to Dojo and walked quickly to Sahara’s rescue.
“My sister knows of our father,” she said. “He was Roland, the son of Alfred, our grandfather. They were born to our clan.”
Sahara closed her eyes now, her dreams dancing once more across her mind.
Racing on a horse’s back, running like the wind, thundering across the prairies.
She heard Nehalem speaking, as if from a waking dream. “Sahara’s mother appeared after the first flu epidemic. She had been traveling for some time, and she — ”
Sahara opened her eyes. The crowd watched her curiously, as if expecting an answer. Suddenly it all became clear to her.
Overcoming her shyness, Sahara spoke out in a strong voice, addressing not only William, but the entire gathering.
“My mother,” she announced, “came from the West. My mother came from a clan of horse people.” How else could Sahara have such dreams? How else could she remember horses? “And my mother’s memories of horses,” she said, “still live…inside of me.”
With that bold announcement, Sahara darted from the crowd. She raced down the well-trodden path from the dining hall, past buildings and tents and gardens, and she did not stop running until she found her horse. Burying her face into Promise’s silky black mane, she wept trails of tears. Tears of happiness, tears of surprise, tears of joy, and tears of remembering.
Chapter Forty-Seven
IT WAS EVAN WHO found her, after some time had passed. Sahara sat huddled at the edge of the small corral. Promise stood relaxed and sleepy just inches away, with her back foot cocked in a posture of repose. Hearing Evan approach, Sahara spit into her hands and scrubbed her cheeks with the palm of her hands, wiping away the dust and dried tears she knew must linger there.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
“Y-Yes.” Her voice cracked unexpectedly.
“I was worried for you, when you ran out,” said Evan. “But at the same time, I knew you probably wanted to be alone.”
She could just make out the familiar lines of his face in the deepening moonlight and the torch lights of the camp, but his voice was warm and reassuring.
“Figured you’d be here,” he said. “With your horse.”
“Everything is changing so fast,” she said. “When we left here last time, I never knew my mother wasn’t from our clan. Then Grandfather died, and Laurel told me. My mother came wandering through the desert. That’s about all anybody knew.” Sahara pulled the silver medallion from her shirt — her one link to her mother. “But it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? That’s why I remember horses. I’m the last of her line.”
“Yes, it does make sense. The way your knowledge comes so naturally to you.”
“My dreams kept changing,” said Sahara. “First they were only about horses, about riding horses. Then there was a woman, with brown hair like me, and she had a horse named Beauty, and then she was frightened and alone, and then — ” Sahara drew a breath. “I’ll never know the whole story of what happened to her or the other horse people. But it’s like she was trying to tell me something all along.”
Evan waited for her to finish, listening closely. “And what will you do?” he finally asked. “Now that you know?”
“No matter what,” said Sahara, “I will stay with my horse. It’s where I belong. And I’ll learn how to train her. Was that your aunt with you at dinner — who gave me the book about horse training?”
“Yes, it was Auntie. She has been weak lately, and staying in camp often. It’s getting harder and harder for her to climb those rocky steps up to her home. Do you still have the book? Have you used it with your horse?”
Sahara shook her head. “No. The book is…” She hesitated. “The book is gone. But I do not need it. I will find my own way with Promise.” I am from a clan of horse people, she thought. “But what will happen to your aunt now? And to the books?”
“It’s something we’ve been discussing in camp. She has no relatives, really, except me. She needs someone to look after her since she’s getting so frail, although she really doesn’t care for the attention, and would rather be by herself. She’s a bit of a grouch from all those years of living like a hermit, with just those books and that old mangy dog for company.”
Sahara grinned. Evan made her smile. She’d been so preoccupied raising her goats and then caring for the horse, she had almost forgotten how much she missed his company. “Maybe I could stay here in camp, and help take care of her.”
The words came out suddenly, without any planning. But it might work. It might be a way she could be useful and able to stay in the Gardener’s Camp with her horse.
“Do you really think you could stand her company day after day?” asked Evan. “She might need a lot of care as she gets older.”
“I took care of Grandfather,” said Sahara. But she shivered as the words came out of her mouth. She hadn’t really taken care of him when he needed it most, and she’d been out grazing her goats and searching for horses when he died by himself in his bed. The memory stung her, and she hung her head in guilt. “But not at the very end.”
Evan put his hand on hers, and before she knew it, he had drawn her against him in a great, warm hug. She began to cry again, deep rasping sobs, and he stood there holding her until she quieted.
“Shhh, shhh,” he whispered. “It wasn’t your fault. Everyone dies, eventually. Your Grandfather knew that you loved him. I know how close the two of you were.”
“And now Laurel and Dojo are together practically every waking moment, and I have no one, really, left in my own clan,
and I don’t know what I should do.”
“Well, sometimes when you don’t know what to do, the best thing is to just sit tight,” Evan said. “And wait. The right answer will appear.”
“Do you think?”
“I do,” said Evan. “Now let’s go back to the dining hall, and see if there’s any dessert left. If my nose serves me well, I think they were serving fresh peach tart just as I left, for our special guests. And you are one of them.”
He grabbed her hand and led her toward the dining tent, and Sahara found herself smiling into the darkness as she followed.
Chapter Forty-Eight
SAHARA’S FINGERS NIMBLY TIED the rope halter behind Promise’s keen ears, just like her own mother might have done with a horse called Beauty. Sahara relished the chance to be alone with her horse. Deep into summer, much of the novelty of the tame horse had worn off, and visitors came with less regularity to gaze at the elegant young creature, and watch Sahara work with her. But the figure striding up the path now was familiar. Laurel.
“I was sure I would find you here,” her sister said, reaching the edge of the corral. Standing on the lower rail, Laurel watched as Sahara asked Promise to back up, come forward, move to the right and to the left. “Grandfather was right about one thing, you know,” said Laurel. “He always said you were a natural with animals. You do have a real skill with that horse.”
“Do you think he knew?” Sahara asked. “About my mother and the horse people?”
“I don’t know,” said Laurel. “You’d think he might have told us, if he did know. I remember, even as a young girl, that your mother had a sadness about her, but I don’t know if she ever shared much about her past. Maybe it will always be a mystery.”
“Don’t you think she’s doing better?” asked Sahara, moving towards Promise. “Watch this.”
She put the horse through a series of exercises: trotting in a brisk circle around the small corral, and then standing completely still when Sahara asked her to. Promise had filled out with a steady diet of good grass, and her soft dun coat glistened in the sun.
“She listens to you, that’s for sure. And she’s growing like a weed. She looks much larger since we got here a few weeks ago.”
“I can probably almost try to ride her,” said Sahara. “But I think she should grow up a little bit more first.”
“I came to tell you something important,” said Laurel, changing the subject entirely.
Now what? It was odd having Laurel at the corrals. She usually could not be bothered with the goats or the horse.
“Dojo asked me to be his wife last night.”
What? Sahara felt her whole body stiffen. Of course this was not unexpected. Laurel and Dojo spent almost all of their time together now, mooning around like lovebirds. But in her deepest heart Sahara still wished her sister would pick someone else. She knew Laurel was expecting an answer, but Sahara’s tongue would not work.
In the silence, Laurel continued. “I came out here, to tell you first. Because you are my sister, always. I thought you should know…” She hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “I guess I would like your approval, Sahara. I know that you and Dojo have had your moments, and that he’s not your favorite person in the world, but oh, he’s so good to me, and if you’d only give him a chance and get to know him better — ”
Sahara sucked in her breath. This was her sister — the one she had shared a tent with for all of her years, the one who helped raise her when her own mother died. She owed her something.
“Dojo is…a little nicer than I always thought.” Sahara forced the words out, knowing they sounded strained.
Laurel didn’t seem to notice. “He’s had a lot to overcome, not actually belonging to our clan. I think that’s why he’s the way he is, always trying to prove himself.”
Sahara thought about this. She was from a different clan, too, trying to fit in. In some small way she finally understood. “I’m happy for you,” she said, and she meant it.
Laurel smiled. “Thank you. I could hardly wait to tell you. We’re talking about having a ceremony before the clan leaves again, which is earlier than usual, you know. Quite a few people from this camp are going to travel with us to the ruins, to help us dig and search for information. It was Dojo’s idea to have more people involved, and Nehalem approves. And if Dojo and I get married, I will be his wife and share his tent, and other people might need ours to live in, and I wanted to check with you about this, and — ”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m staying here.”
There she said it. Sahara had been wrestling with the decision, but now it seemed to fit.
“You’re not coming with us? You could bring Promise, like before. She could stay tied to the back of the carts, and you could still work with her every day.”
“She would hate that. She’s used to being free where she can stretch her legs every day. Horses need to run — I’ve learned that much.”
“But where will you stay?” asked Laurel. “I’ve taken care of you for so long — I just assumed you might live with us.”
Sahara shuddered at the thought. “Evan’s aunt is coming down off the hill to live in camp. She is old — much older than Grandfather. There is a small space available for her. Not a tent, but an actual shelter with a roof and walls. I can set up a cot there, and help Evan take care of her. It’s right over there.” She pointed to a corrugated tin roof, sitting on walls made of bricks and chinked stone. “It’s close to the corrals, so I can help Evan with the goats and be near my horse, too.”
“And what about your duties with our goats? Rowdy and Farina and — ”
“Ash is ten years old now. He’s probably old enough to take care of them. He’s been helping Ulu with his chores here, and he’s learned quite a lot from Evan. Would that be all right?”
Laurel nodded slowly, considering. “But is this what you want?” she asked. “To stay in one place all the time? Won’t you miss the adventure, the plains, the hunting — ”
“You mean the staying in camp and minding the stew pot?” Sahara grinned, sliding the head gear gently down over the horse’s ears and releasing her. “No, I won’t miss that one bit. Besides, my place is with my horse. To train her and make her a useful animal. I know that now.”
A sudden breeze caught a cluster of yellowing leaves, which danced in small whirlwinds throughout the corral. Promise snorted and bucked, showing off.
“It might take me a while, because she still has to finish growing up. But wait till you come back in the spring. You’ll see how much she has learned by then.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
IN THE DAYS BEFORE Trader’s Clan left for the season, Sahara and Ash and Ulu helped move Evan’s aunt into their small new home. The old woman would not come down from her hilltop hovel without her precious books.
Sahara panted as she climbed the hill for about the twentieth time that day. She swerved to avoid Ulu, coming down with an armful of books. “Be careful, Ulu. That’s a big bunch you have.”
Ulu sneezed, and almost lost his footing. “I will,” he said, readjusting his load of musty books.
Ash sprinted up the hill ahead of her, still full of energy. “I’ve brought the most down, don’t you think?”
Sahara grinned. “Probably.”
Auntie sat deep inside the dark opening, helping sort the books. “And this one,” she said, in a voice rusty with age, “tells about the continents of the world.”
“What are con-ta-dents?” asked Ash.
“Places,” said Evan, making another stack. “Big places in the world.”
“Look at this one!” Ash opened up a book at the top of his pile. “What is that?” he asked, pointing to a picture.
“Elephant,” said the old woman. “Huge animal — larger than you’ve ever seen.”
“Wow,” breathed Ash. “How come nobody knows about this? How could we forget all the stuff in these books?”
“We won’t anymore,” said Sahara. �
��That’s why we’re bringing them down the hill.”
Old Auntie smiled — a wise, ancient smile.
It took a few nights for Sahara to get used to her new roommate and the small dwelling they now shared, near the corrals at the outskirts of the Gardener’s Camp. The old woman snored. Sahara hadn’t expected that. Old Auntie snorted and tossed in her bed for quite a long while each night before finally settling into a comfortable sleep. And the ancient raggedy dog that came down off the hill with the woman scratched circles on the floor underneath the bed.
It felt different, not traveling with the Trader’s Clan, and not sharing a tent with her sister. But Sahara knew she made the right decision when she chose to stay at the Gardener’s Camp.
It was not difficult taking care of Auntie. She needed help at meals, but otherwise preferred to be alone. Besides, on many evenings, Sahara and old Auntie had company for supper. They laughed with delight as Evan told silly stories about the goats, or shared what he saw on his wanderings through the hills. Sometimes Evan took Sahara’s hand as they slipped outside to check on the goats and her horse. Promise stood snug and safe in a sturdy corral just a stone’s throw away from the cozy rooms Sahara now called home.
As the seasons turned, the long nights grew chilly. Sahara shivered in her blanket one night, reaching out for the warmth of Banner’s soft fur. The dog groaned with pleasure and rolled onto her side. This was Sahara’s only dog now, except for Moshe, who stayed with Evan while he grazed the goats, and came to see Sahara every night on their return. Blitz had remained with the traveling clan when they started on their journey in the Fall, pulling a cart as he had always done. Since he seemed to have taken a shine to Dojo, Sahara found it in her heart to give the dog as a wedding present to Laurel and her new husband.
Unable to sleep with the rumblings of old Auntie, Sahara stood now, carrying a small light with her into the dark, cellar-like room that adjoined their humble new home. Musty and cool, it was filled with the ancient books they had carried down the mountain. She pulled a few of them out, going through them page by page, looking for a word that Auntie had taught her to spell out: H-O-R-S-E.
