by Sharon Sala
Meecha thought about it and then smiled. “Chiiwi knows. He can help you.”
Little Mouse shrugged. She didn’t care who showed her as long as she could resume what was her passion and her trade.
Then a thought occurred. “Who did you use as a healer before me?”
Meecha shrugged. “We didn’t have a healer, but sometimes Chiiwi knew what worked.”
Little Mouse felt bad, like she was stepping into shoes that were already filled. “Then he was your healer.”
“No. He is our best fisherman. He makes nets and hooks and knows where the best places are to hunt and fish.”
The news lightened Little Mouse’s heart. “Then I will ask him to show me... when I am well.”
Meecha nodded. “It is good.” She glanced toward the doorway to the dugout. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
“No. It is best I go in alone,” Little Mouse said.
Happy that her duties were over, Meecha made a hasty retreat as Little Mouse opened the door, shoving it wide to let in the light, and then walked down the steps into the room.
There were dark places in the dirt floor at the foot of the steps. She thought it was blood. But the rest of the place appeared as if someone had just stepped away. The pots and dishes were sitting on a shelf. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling above a table with two stools. A bucket had been made from a short piece of a hollowed-out log and had rope for a handle meant for carrying water from the river, she guessed. The bed of skins and furs on the floor at the back of the room was large, made to accommodate two people. It would be the best bed Little Mouse had ever had.
She reached down and touched the dark earth, and then straightened.
“I am Little Mouse. Thank you for this home.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Like everyone else in the region, Yaluk now knew the story of the medicine woman with great powers who was supposed to change history. He also had heard she walked with many people and that they were coming through his land. But he wasn’t concerned with the future. He just wanted more power with as little effort as possible.
He sent eight of his best men out to scout the area. He wanted to know how many people there were with her and which direction they were moving. If the medicine woman was as powerful as he’d heard, then she would likely have great wealth to go with it, and that was his goal.
He’d been waiting for hours now for his men to report back, but so far without success. Frustrated and more than a little bored, he gathered up twenty more of his warriors and left camp. If he found them lazing about without the answers he’d sent them to get, he would gut them where they stood.
****
Tyhen’s relief in knowing her parents had reached their new location was dampened by the news of Little Mouse. The little healer had been so much a part of her life in Naaki Chava that it hurt to think of what must have happened to her. And like her mother, the thought that she might have been left behind was horrifying. Little Mouse would have been so afraid on her own when the mountain died, and there was no way she would have escaped it.
And so she walked with that heartache added to all the others, barely aware of the hot sun on her face or the sweat running down her back. Heat was a constant where she’d grown up.
But when a child stumbled and fell a few yards ahead of her and she saw how red his face was and how dry and dusty his feet and legs were, it made her realize that while it was still hot, it had not rained on them in days.
She was thinking about finding a place to stop for a rest when the mother scooped up the little boy and settled him on her hip without missing a step. As she did, the child tucked his head beneath his mother’s chin without a whimper. The sight of such acceptance touched her heart. Even the children seemed to know this march was unavoidable. She had witnessed tears, but they were few and far between.
However, seeing this little boy fall made her think of Yuma. He hadn’t been much older than this one when they’d run from Firewalker, and he’d been on his own. A rush of emotion swept through her at the thought. He’d been so young, but so very, very brave.
She looked up to see where Yuma was at and remembered he’d told her earlier that he was going to walk ahead with the Nantay brothers, but she didn’t see them anymore, and at first she thought nothing of it.
The people had just begun a climb up a long slope of land, and since she didn’t see him ahead of her, she turned to look behind, didn’t see him there either, and then her gaze locked on the view of where they’d been.
The geography behind her looked like someone had drawn a line on the earth announcing, here is where things will grow, and here is where they will not. There were still trees and many strange bushes, but she did not think this land on which they were walking would grow food, and there was no water in sight. She turned again to the people in front of her, and even though she had stretched to her tallest, she could not see Yuma anywhere.
She was on the verge of being concerned when she caught movement on the horizon just ahead. She stopped to watch, letting others pass by her, and all of a sudden three men appeared.
It was Yuma and the Nantays and they were running! Johnston and Yuma were on either side of Montford, and each had an arm around his waist to keep him on his feet. Then she saw the blood on the front of his chest and saw what no one else could see, eight armed men in pursuit only a short distance behind them and gaining ground. She leaped forward, barely aware that the New Ones were already arming themselves as she flew past.
****
Yuma and the Nantays were scouting ahead for landmarks to match the maps that they had. Because of the geographical region of the country through which they were now moving, their lives would depend on where they could access water, and how far they could go without it.
“Look there!” Montford said. He was smiling as he pointed off into the distance at a small cloud of dust. “That is something in a herd. I haven’t seen animals make a dust cloud like that since before Firewalker.”
Johnston nodded, but he was more interested in the terrain. It was getting rougher. He thought about all of the people behind them still walking barefoot.
“We need to get back and call for a rest so people can get their feet covered. These rocks are going to be too sharp for bare feet.”
Yuma was listening, but his gaze was focused on a dip in the land off to their left. Twice now he thought he’d caught a glimpse of movement and was hesitant about going any farther until he knew what that was.
“What do you see?” Johnston asked.
Yuma pointed. “See that shadow in the land just ahead? It looks flat, but if you look closer, there is a slight dip to the surface. There’s something down in it.”
Montford looked.
Johnston stared. “I see what you mean. Something... no, someone is belly-crawling. See that faint poof of dust rising. Good eye, Yuma.”
The hair rose on the back of Yuma’s neck. He was thinking about what Tyhen had said about the bad men she’d seen in her dreams when a head popped up.
“There!” Yuma yelled.
The Nantays immediately notched arrows into their bows, ready to shoot if the target presented. And it did.
When the armed warriors sprang to their feet and came toward them on the run, both Nantays and Yuma launched their arrows, but only one man went down. The others were too many and coming too fast to stop and shoot again.
“Run!” Johnston shouted, and as they turned, an arrow hit the back of Montford’s shoulder and pierced the front of his chest, as well. He stumbled, his face wreathed in pain as Johnston grabbed him from one side and Yuma from the other.
“Move your feet,” Johnston yelled, and Montford came to enough to follow directions.
“We’ve got you, Montford, just hold on to us,” Yuma yelled. Then they began to run, carrying him between them.
It took a few seconds for them to get their footsteps in sync and then they took off. There was no way to know how many more warri
ors might be around, but the need to warn the others was paramount. If they could just get back over the hill before the warriors caught up, they’d be safe by numbers alone, but the little men were coming up fast and weren’t wasting breath doing it. It was a silent race to the death and Yuma wasn’t ready to die.
Dust rose ankle high as they ran over sharp rocks, dodging thorny cactus and dragging Montford between them as they kept their gaze focused on the high ground ahead.
When they finally topped the rise, their biggest relief was seeing the New Ones strung out all over the land before them.
Then Yuma saw Tyhen coming through the crowd, running in that long, fluid stride that made her look like she was moving on wheels. The expression on her face was set and he knew she was already aware of the danger.
When she drew even with him, their gazes locked. He got the message. Go take care of Montford. She’d take care of this.
The moment the three men were safely behind her, Tyhen channeled her anger and threw up her arms like she was tossing dirty water out of a bucket. The air rose with the motion of a tidal wave, gaining strength with forward motion until it was an impenetrable wall of mass and might, the perfect unseen weapon.
One second the eight warriors were coming over the rise and the next thing they knew, they were in the air and high above the ground, tumbling head over heels without anything thing to hold onto. The last thing they saw was a mass of people spread so far out on the ground below that they couldn’t see an end. They were screaming and praying to the Old Ones, still trying to catch hold of each other when the wind suddenly died. And then so did they, dropping from a forty foot height onto the rocky ground below.
****
By the time Tyhen got back, women had gathered around the men and were digging medicine out of their packs. Johnston was in front of Montford, cutting the arrowhead from the end of the shaft, and Yuma was behind, ready to pull it out.
Yuma looked up. The grim expression on his face said it all. Before, all their danger had come from the earth and the elements. It was no longer the case.
“Is it bad?” she asked, as she dropped down on one knee beside Shirley Nantay.
“Bad enough,” Shirley said.
Sweat was running down Montford’s face and there was a muscle jerking at the side of his jaw.
“Get it out,” he mumbled.
Johnston made one final cut in the shaft and the arrowhead fell into his brother’s lap.
“It’s off,” Johnston said.
Before Montford had time to brace himself, Yuma grabbed the back of the arrow and pulled.
Montford moaned and fell forward into his brother’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Yuma said as he tossed the arrow aside.
Shirley’s expression was grim.
One of the women was carefully washing the blood from his shoulder, while Shirley was waiting to pour a healing powder into both entrance and exit wounds.
“What do you want me to do?” Tyhen asked.
Yuma looked up. “The ground is getting rough. No more bare feet. Spread the word.”
She stood and turned. The expressions on the New Ones’ faces were grim as she called out for all to hear.
“He will heal. The ground is bad. No more bare feet.”
Once again, the people began digging through packs.
Yuma slid an arm around her waist as he came up behind her.
“The warriors were in hiding. They attacked us first.”
She sighed. “We are in a new land. These people do not live the way we lived. Everything is strange. We must be careful not to waste what we have until we know where we can get more.”
He lifted the hair from the back of her neck and kissed the spot right behind her ear that made her weak.
As he did, the wind circled around them in a soft, teasing manner.
Tyhen sighed as she turned in his arms.
“Be careful of starting something we cannot finish.”
He groaned. “Yes. Thank you for the reminder.”
She smiled. “So, do we know which way to go?”
“Toward water, wherever that is,” Yuma said.
“I will see,” she said, then walked a few steps away and closed her eyes.
At first all she could see was more land like this, then she looked farther and saw a river. She didn’t know how far away it was, but she knew which direction to take.
“This way,” she said, pointing north.
****
Yaluk was angry. They were almost an hour away from camp and still no sign of the scouts. After another half hour of walk, he stopped at a small watering hole in Chollo Pass that came from a natural spring up in the rocks. He then sent four of his men out in different directions to try and pick up a trail while the rest of them settled in to wait.
One man saw a covey of birds hiding beneath some brush and shooed them out. As they took flight, a half-dozen of the other warriors were ready with arrows and shot them down. A full belly always shifted the mood. Before long the birds were cooking over open fires.
The scent drew a pair of rangy coyotes who didn’t linger once they saw the men associated with the scent, and time moved slowly as they waited for the birds to cook and the scouts to return.
One of the guards Yaluk had stationed up on a ridge gave a whistle and then pointed.
Yaluk stood up and turned around. Even from here, he could see the dust cloud. Many people were on the move, but a long distance away. It reminded him of the time when he was young and his people had lost their water source. They had packed everybody up and moved and he had walked among the dust, choking and so thirsty he believed that he would die. But then they found the Rio Yaqui and settled. It had been a hard life, but there had been enough to be happy and live comfortably. Only Yaluk had never figured out how to be happy with what he had. He’d always wanted more.
By the size of the dust cloud, it had to be the witch woman and her people. He had many more warriors, but not with him. Now was not a wise time to attack.
Then he heard another whistle. The same guard was pointing in yet another direction. He turned to see one of his scouts returning. It was Yoji, the one he’d sent south.
A few minutes later, Yoji reached the spring and fell belly down onto the edge to drink and then got to his feet.
“Did you find them?” Yaluk asked.
“One dead with an arrow in his belly. I do not know this tribe,” Yoji said, as he showed it to Yaluk.
“What about the others?” Yaluk asked.
“Found them a long distance away. All dead. No open wounds. No arrows in them. No spears, no knives had cut their bodies. Just broken.
Yaluk frowned as the other warriors began muttering to themselves.
“Did you see the witch?”
“No, but many people are coming from the South and they will not reach this place before dark.”
Yaluk frowned. He didn’t like knowing nine of his best trackers were dead. He liked it even less that they were dead without an obvious reason as to how that happened. It sounded like witchcraft to him.
He turned to the other warriors. “Bring the food with us and put out the fires. We go back to camp now.”
Within a few minutes they had abandoned the spring, buried the offal from cleaning the birds, scattered the ashes, and brushed away their tracks.
****
The mood was somber as the New Ones made dry camp that night. Montford was feverish and in serious pain. Johnston feared the wound had an infection. Knowing one of their own was in peril made for uneasy sleep for everyone. Only the children were quiet, exhausted by the day’s events.
Yuma and Tyhen had gone into their little tent early, but after a first sleep, they woke and made love with quiet passion. Having this physical bond was what kept Tyhen focused during the day. As long as she had Yuma to cool the fever in her blood and hold her when she slept, she could fight whatever lay in their way.
Still basking in the afterglow, Yuma la
y spooned against her back with his hand cupped against her breast.
Tyhen could feel his joy. It was a heady thing to know she’d been loved by him since she’d taken her first breath, and even when she wouldn’t admit it, knew she would love him forever.
Tell them to find a Yucca plant.
Tyhen jumped as if someone had just stuck a knife in her back, which put Yuma on alert.
“What’s wrong?”
“Adam just sent me a message for Montford. I need to get up.”
Yuma scooted out of the tent feet first and then helped her out.
Tyhen was scrambling, trying to pull the shift back over her head as Yuma fastened his loincloth.
“Poison snakes here. No bare feet,” Yuma cautioned.
“Oh yes. I forgot.”
A few moments later they were off. It was easy to find the Nantays’ tents because they were the only ones up with a fire still burning.
Montford was lying face up on a sleeping mat, surrounded by some of the elders who were burning sage and saying healing prayers.
When Johnston saw them coming, he stood.
“He has a fever.”
Tyhen grabbed his forearm. “Adam sent a message. I’m not sure what it meant, but he said find the Yucca plant.”
Johnston turned around. “Who here knows the Yucca?”
One of the women sitting with Shirley stood up. “Luz Reya. She’s Apache. She said today this place looks like where she was from.”
“Do you know where she sleeps?” Shirley asked.
The woman nodded.
“Show me,” Shirley said and took off through the camp behind her.
Tyhen could tell Johnston was scared and it showed on his face.
“I do not want to lose my brother,” he said.
Tell them he will not die.
“Adam said to tell you he is not going to die,” Tyhen said.
Johnston wiped a hand across his face, unashamed of his tears.
“Get a torch and take Yuma. I will show you where it grows.”
