“That sure is a purty sight,” said Jake. “I remember one time a smart-ass kid from Reno came up here and shot one of those. His mommy gave him a rifle, but never taught him nuthin’. Whatever, he rode home the same day with a busted face and a broken rifle. Can’t recall who did that to him, but whoever killed Tom is gonna get a lot worse.”
“No shootin’ unless I give the order,” said Ned. “And that’s only in self-defense. Everyone clear on that?”
There were a few assenting grumbles, but for the most part the men were stoically silent, and Pete knew that anything suddenly moving on this day would stand a good chance of dying.
The two groups went off in opposite directions, but soon were on parallel courses along the canyon rims, the men occasionally shouting to each other. So preoccupied was Pete with Baela’s safety and the progress of the men who even now approached the thick, stone dome of the Tenanken caverns that he didn’t feel the wave of surprise and fear coming from Han.
Just returning from a hunt, Han had nearly walked into the entire Hinchai party before scuttling to his rocky cairn on the hill overlooking the grisly death scene they had just uncovered. He slammed the slab door shut on the apparently random pile of rocks built like a beaver lodge, and sat shivering in the darkness until nightfall.
“See anything?”
“Nothing. Not even a dog turd. This brush is so thick in here you can’t see your feet. Hey, do you guys smell wood smoke?”
“No!”
“Keep smellin’ it over here. Comes and goes.”
“Well, look for an old campfire, or somethin’“
“Look at that mess in the canyon. Goddamned rattlesnake den! Oughta pour kerosene in there, and burn it out.”
“There’s the wood smoke again! It’s getting strong! Way the wind swirls around here, can’t tell where it’s comin’ from.”
Pete felt his heart skip a beat. The men on the opposite side of the canyon were moving just below the rotten, granite outcropping providing the lacy network of fine fumaroles from the main cavern ceiling to the outside air. Someone is still burning a fire in there! But when he looked down the canyon towards his ranch house, and saw white smoke pouring out of the chimney, the explanation seemed so perfect he smiled naturally. “Oh hell, Ned, they’re smellin’ wood smoke from my fireplace. Look down there.”
Ned looked. “Sure enough. Smoke’s blowin’ up here from Pete’s place! See anything else?”
“Naw!”
“Nothin’ over here, either!” They were looking directly at the entrance to the caverns, but all they saw was a thick, scraggly bush growing out of solid rock. Ned kept walking, Pete nearly running into his back in eagerness to keep them all moving. Is anyone watching us, now?
And you, Pete-Pegre. Does clothing make you Hinchai? If someone runs from the cave, will you shoot them down like a lesser animal and enhance your status in town, or will you defend those who gave you life, and crush a Hinchai skull?
The thoughts were gone in an instant, leaving his face flushed and sweaty, but nobody noticed because they were now cursing their way through thick underbrush, and black clouds of biting flies swarming about their heads to attack bare necks and earlobes.
They veered away from the canyon to get clear of the brush, and found themselves on a short, steep ridge leading to the valley floor. They looked at Pete’s ranch, and thought about cold water or warm beer. A half-hour later that’s what they got, plus thick slabs of fresh-baked bread, when they dragged themselves up to the front porch where Bernie was standing, big hands on big hips, a smile on her face as always. Pete was so glad to see her he nearly crushed her in an embrace.
They rested an hour, then crossed the valley and searched the forests for two miles around, finding nothing, returning frustrated, discouraged and angry. The search went on for three more days, and at the time, of course, there was no way any of them could have predicted how, when, or where it would end. Such ignorance allowed the men to sleep well that night, except for Pete, who tossed and turned, subconscious mind struggling to obtain identity. Hinchai? Or Tenanken? What are you?
* * * * * * *
From the comfortable saddle in the bough of her hidey-tree she had heard their faint shouts all morning while she watched Han wander through the woods in search of something to supplement his dried-meat diet. She had made herself a yoke of tree branches which fitted to her shoulders so that, when she knelt, Baela became a small bush, or when standing she could turn and blend in totally with a shrub or small tree. The camouflage was imperfect, she knew, but so was Han’s vision and mind, and the Hinchai were comically inept at seeing anything in the forest.
She’d been surprised the first morning she saw Han, for the rumor was he’d left the band forever to make a new home far beyond the hills, yet here he was, a few minutes walk from the caverns. So Maki had lied about this also. Once again, she was reminded to distrust the young Tenanken warrior who seemed destined to become the Keeper of The Memories for no good reason she could see except that his father was Anka, by far the wisest Tenanken she’d ever known. But Han was Maki’s watchdog, and what was he waiting for? Each morning he appeared at the hilltop across the canyon, still draped in sleeping skins. During the day he scrounged for eating plants, and once took some small animal with his sling. In the evenings he disappeared over the hill again, not to be seen until the following morning.
Today was different. The voices came from the plateau at the end of the canyon, and as Han returned from his hunt Baela watched him stop and cock his head to one side, listening, then stalking. He passed from her view, and suddenly was there again, hurrying this time, backtracking, scrambling up and over the top of the hill, as if being chased. She was still watching the hilltop when other figures appeared in her peripheral vision: clothed Hinchai with pointing weapons, angry faces, shouting to others on her side of the canyon. Run! Hide anywhere!
The thought rocked her in the tree, and she jumped up like a bird taking flight, scrambling to the ground with the tree between herself and the Hinchai on the far side of the canyon. She bent over double, and a small bush scuttled across the grass to canyon’s edge, lodging in a crack by the nest of the great bird of prey who even now circled her young, far above, casting a wary eye on those below. The bird dropped towards her, and she flinched backwards from the nest. Great danger, but it is there—there, with the Hinchai and their weapons. I’ll be seen here. The bird’s talons touched the nest, and pushed off again, the bird shrieking, flying directly towards the Hinchai. Now! They watch the bird!
Baela scrambled down the rock face, bare feet searching for tiny ledges and rough flakes, tiny hands jamming into cracks until she felt the wide shelf beneath her, and was nearly running along it, bent double, waiting for a shout or an explosion when they saw her. But once again, the Hinchai could not see; she reached the cave entrance, and pushed herself in among the tangle of branches and brush until a strong hand gripped her arm, pulling her roughly inside, and she found herself staring into Maki’s amber eyes at close range.
“Always outside and on the watch, aren’t you?”
“I was playing, and they surprised me.”
“Who surprised you?”
“Hinchai. Two groups. One’s on the other side of the canyon, and another is right above us.”
Maki pushed her away from him. “Run and tell the others to put out their fires. There must be no smoke. Hurry!”
Baela leaped like a startled deer, racing down the tunnel to the main cavern and along the spiral of shelves past surprised females preparing to cook a meal, first coals glowing. “Cover your fires! Hinchai are right above us! They have weapons!”
There was a startled cry, and fires were stirred, coals dumped into rock containers and covered, and all looked up at smoke from the making of the fires, still hanging near the ceiling of the great room before diffusing out through the rocks above, and into the Hinchai world.
As Baela completed her circuit of the room in eerie silen
ce, she felt and smelled their fear of the Hinchai, and suddenly it seemed absurd. Here we are, ready to go out and live with the Hinchai, and we sit here cowering in fear of them, afraid they’ll smell our fires and come in here to kill us. Still, it was an adventure, and Baela loved the drama of it all. She raced from the cavern and back along the tunnel to where Maki still sat on his haunches, peering out through the branches covering the entrance. When he first looked at her, she saw death in his eyes, had a vision of dead and dying Tenanken everywhere in her head, but then he seemed to soften, and beckoned to her. She knelt beside him, and he parted the branches for her to see outside.
“See your so-called friend and teacher,” Maki whispered softly.
She looked, and saw Hinchai males, with weapons, and walking with them was Pegre, his own weapon slung across his body.
“He pretends loyalty to us, but out there he is with his own kind. He has become Hinchai, and you would be wise not to listen to anything he says, Baela. He draws us out to live as slaves with the Hinchai, and failing to do that he will kill us all if we oppose him. How can you let this happen to you and your parents?”
Baela looked at him wide-eyed, a child filled with wonder yet somehow not a child, and why was it he could not penetrate her mind at this moment?
Then, We don’t have freedom living in caves. Better to be a slave in sunlight. Why do you hate and fear him so?
“It will not be this way much longer, Baela, you’ll see. We’ll make our own place outside, but it will not be under Hinchai domination. My father is old, weak and misled. He’ll see, too, but Pegre is another matter, and when the time comes I will have to deal with him personally!”
Maki looked at Baela for approval, forgetting her heritage for the moment, wanting to see a smile or a nod of the head to affirm he was right. Instead he saw large eyes, questioning, but not comprehending. Too young, yet again he was attracted to her there in the gloom at a time when the Hinchai were uncomfortably close.
Maki pondered this, distracted, while Baela sat before him, quietly looking into his eyes, and considering the different methods she might use to permanently disable his pointing weapons.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TENANKEN MARCH
Dew turned to sparkling frost in cold morning air, a hint of winter to come, fallen leaves floating in the breeze streaming down mountains into valleys and canyons below. Rustling sounds masked the thumping of bare feet as Hidaig’s band, some forty strong, trotted through the forest at a warrior’s pace covering six miles in an hour. Once, the early evening before, they had been seen crossing a road, shadow-like figures in a line in front of the wagon driven by Tadeusz Snykowski, returning as best he could to Quincy after a half-evening of serious drinking at the Athens Bar. His entire attention had been focused on the road, until movement ahead redirected his bleary gaze to a scraggly looking bunch of white men with long hair, rags for clothes, carrying spears and axes and falling all over themselves trying to get out of the way as he rattled around a sharp corner only a few miles out of town. He was by them in a flash, hearing a thud in the back of the wagon he would later connect with a huge slash made by something blunt and heavy, and swung with force.
Tadeusz had lived in the area long enough to know there were all kinds of wild folks living in the mountains, and the best way to keep living a simple life was to stay out of their way. He reported nothing to the sheriff in Quincy, went straight to his room in a home only a block from the River Bar and Grill, and collapsed into sleep.
Hidaig kept to the front of the band, setting the pace. His second-in-command, a huge warrior named Kretan, ran at the rear of the column with orders to kill stragglers, or anyone who tried to flee from the coming battle, and since there were no people to kill so far he was frustrated, and ready for war before their journey was even half-finished. The rest followed the back of their leader, lured by the promise of riches and lusty females and an adventure to be recorded forever in The Memories, for they were a poor band with a spiritually dead leader who loved only war, and yearned for the power it could provide.
In the afternoon, Hidaig entertained them with the killing of a Hinchai dog. The animal had followed them as they passed near a cabin, yapping at their heels until Hidaig suddenly turned, fitted a stone in his sling and let fly, hitting the dog in the hind-quarters. As the frightened dog tried to pull itself away with its front legs, whimpering pitifully, Hidaig jerked it up by the hind legs, for it was a small dog, shook it violently until both legs snapped, and his warriors were cheering the animal’s screams of agony, then used his flint knife to slowly disembowel it. Death ending the entertainment, Hidaig tossed the body off the trail before the band trotted on.
But the dog’s screams had been heard by one Ezra Pike, who lived with his brother Hugh in the nearby cabin. An out-of-work-miner, Ezra was hunting squirrel when he heard the screams, and came running to find the ripped-open carcass of what had once been a sort-of-pet to him. Whatever had killed the dog was pure mean, he decided, and not being a stupid man he carefully climbed a hill and peeked at the trail ahead rather than charging off after his quarry in anger. What he saw trotting along there convinced him that one rifle would not be enough firepower, and so he returned to his cabin and rode into town for help.
It was evening when Hidaig’s force arrived at the rim of the canyon, looking down its length to the still sunlit valley where there were several buildings, smoke coming from the chimney of one of them. After a quick look, Hidaig ordered the warriors back from the rim, where it was possible they would be seen from the cavern entrance, not realizing that at that very moment Baela sat in her hidey-tree watching their every movement, and when Han came down the hillside to greet them she was already climbing down from the tree and racing away to tell Pegre what she had seen.
The warriors flopped on their backs in soft grass to rest from the foot-pounding day, while Hidaig took Han aside for a private talk, Kretan trailing behind within hearing distance.
“You’re earlier than I expected,” said Han. “I should tell Maki you’re here before it’s dark.”
“Time for that,” said Hidaig, grinning. “Your master can wait for a little while, and there are things I want to discuss with you first. Let’s sit.”
Han frowned. “Maki is my friend, not my master.” He sat down in the grass with Hidaig, while Kretan remained standing near them, leaning on his spear. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I need to find out what we’ll be up against. How many able-bodied warriors in Anka’s band?”
“Only a few, and all of them will be moving to the Hinchai settlement.”
“Not if I can help it,” said Hidaig. “You don’t really want to see that happen, do you?”
“No, I don’t. There will be nothing left but old ones who can barely care for themselves. All the younger Tenanken want to leave. Maki tried hard to talk them out of it, but still they’ve chosen to live among the Hinchai. It’s Pegre who’s at fault. He has much influence, and the Tenanken trust him.”
“They don’t trust Maki?”
“Not completely. His hatred for Pegre is well known, and he has spoken openly about being Keeper someday. Some feel he craves power so much it clouds his good judgment.”
“And what about you? Do you think Maki should be Keeper in place of his father.”
“Why do you ask? My opinion is not important, Hidaig. You and Maki agreed on a plan to take power, and drive out the Hinchai. My only part is to tell Maki you’re here, and I should do that now.”
“But I’ve had second thoughts.”
“What?” Han noticed Kretan for the first time. The big warrior had moved closer, was standing near, watchfully.
“I’m not sure Maki is right. After all, Anka is the oldest and wisest elder in recent Memory. He has been both benevolent and democratic, yes? The Tenanken have chosen their way, and he allows it. Who am I, or Maki, to say he’s wrong? Maki would even have me kill his father if he resists. Did you know tha
t?”
Han shook his head solemnly. His whole body had grown tense as he sat rigidly at attention. “If you’re not going to help Maki, then why are you here?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I just have second thoughts about it. Perhaps it’s best if I arbitrate an understanding between Anka and Maki so we can agree on a plan of action that keeps all Tenanken together. Together we are a force, but divided we are nothing. I see no unity in Maki’s plan, so I have decided to confront him before his father and force an agreement that brings us all together. It must be a surprise, so I do not want you informing Maki of our presence here until we meet tomorrow. As commander in the field, I’m giving you a direct order. I assure you, Maki will understand.”
Han fidgeted uneasily, looking first at Hidaig and then Kretan, who seemed to be watching only him. “Perhaps I can bring Maki here to talk with you.”
“No. You stay here for the night, and we will meet him tomorrow.” Hidaig’s tone of voice was menacing.
Han hesitated, then said, “I don’t understand your change of mind, but I will do what you say if you explain to Maki.”
Visions Page 14
