Blood of the Devil

by W. Michael Farmer

  My eyes were finding sleep when Juanita, nestled in my arms, said in the warm darkness, “Yellow Boy, man of Juanita, your woman needs something from you.”

  My closing eyes snapped open, as this was unusual. “Speak, woman, and I’ll give you whatever I can.”

  A long pause and then she said, “I have never asked anything from you. Now I beg your help.”

  “Speak. Say what’s in your mind. I’ll answer.”

  She sighed and said, “I want you to have a child, a son or a daughter. You don’t care if another girl child comes to us, do you?”

  “No, I don’t care if it’s a girl child or a boy. But what do you ask of me? You know we’ve tried to make a child many times since our daughter left us. No child yet grows in your belly. I can no longer raid and take a child from the Indah or go to Chihuahua or Sonora to steal one there. After losing a child of our own, I couldn’t stand to steal one anyway. We must be patient. When the spirits are ready, a child will come from you. There’s no other way.”

  Again she paused. My brain knew her answer sure to come, but I feared to hear it.

  “There’s another way. You must take a second wife.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “She can have our children while the spirits make up their minds about me. As your first wife, I can claim them as much as the woman who carries them in her belly. Please, husband, take another wife and give us a child, give us children. The years fly on hawk’s wings. Soon, I’m too old to make a child. You’re a strong man. You can still make sons and daughters for a long time. Take a young woman, and let her live with us. I don’t care. I won’t cry on the blankets while you lie with her to make a child or leave me to go to her tipi.” She whispered again in desperation, “Please help me.”

  I knew my woman well. She always thought things through and planned carefully before she spoke. She already had some woman waiting for me to ask her, ready to become my second wife, ready to bear our children.

  I puffed steam into the cold air. “Who do you want me to take as a wife? I know you’ve already picked her.”

  She snuggled closer. “Moon on the Water wants to be your second wife.”

  “What? The people say Moon has less chance of having children than you do. How can she make a child when you can’t?”

  “She’s younger. Her moon times say she will have many children. She suffers like she’s been witched because no one takes her. We must help her before she does something foolish so no man ever takes her. She’ll have children. Dreams and visions tell me so. Take Moon, and our children will come. The whispers about her will stop.”

  “What whispers?”

  “The whispers that say witches don’t bear children. The whispers that say she must be avoided. Be strong, Killer of Witches. Take another woman. Take her.”

  A little wind came up and shook the trees over us, making pine needles fall on our tipi, and, on the next ridge, a wolf howled my name.

  The nights grew colder. On a day before the first snow in Ghost Face, while the women gathered acorns and walnuts down the canyon, I washed my best pony, groomed his mane and tail, brushed him until his heavy coat glistened in the light, fed him plenty of grain, and let him drink often. I asked Shiyé to tie him in front of Maria’s tipi in the afternoon but before the women returned. Men in the camp doing chores readying for Ghost Face walked by it, recognized it belonged to me, and looked with raised eyebrows toward me sitting at the fire outside my tipi. I nodded, and, smiling, they nodded back and went on with their business.

  The women returned in the falling dusk leading a couple of mules loaded with sacks of nuts. I sat back in the shadows unseen and watched Maria’s tipi. She and her two daughters saw the pony from far down the path. All three raced for the tipi, but Moon easily won. She stared at the black and white pinto for a moment before recognizing it belonged to me. A hand flew to her lips. Her stare moved from the pony to Juanita’s tipi, to all the others in camp, but she never saw me watching in the shadows. Maria and Juanita, running hard, fast approached. Moon pulled back the blanket and disappeared inside, soon followed by Maria and Juanita, who stopped for a moment to look at the pony. I heard loud sounds from inside the tipi, but could not tell if they laughed in joy or yelled in anger.

  When Juanita joined me in the tipi, she laughed and said, “Husband you have done a good thing. Moon is happier than I have seen her in many harvests. We’ll be good wives and hard workers for you. You’ll be proud of us. Who will you ask to speak with Maria?”

  “I choose Beela-chezzi. How many ponies will Maria want for her? I need to decide on what I can offer before he goes.”

  “Truth be known, Maria feels so bad for her, she would probably give you ponies. Moon will return your pony late tomorrow night. Will you ask Beela-chezzi to visit Maria the next day?”

  “Hmmph. I’ll ask Beela-chezzi to go and offer four ponies. He will go. He makes a good friend.”

  When he returned from speaking with Maria, Beela-chezzi said, “She accepts the four ponies with a condition. You must speak with her face to face. This isn’t good. You shouldn’t break avoidance. Anyone who sees his mother-in-law, his marriage dies. He loses much. He—”

  “Ussen gave me Power to kill witches. I’m not afraid to look on the face of my first wife’s mother. I’ll go.”

  Beela-chezzi nodded. “Your choice to make. She said to tell you she waits in her tipi. Go.”

  I walked the few paces between our tipis and waited at the blanket door. A woman’s voice from inside said, “Who stands at my tipi?”

  “Mother of my first wife, I have come to speak with you, as you ask.”

  “Come inside where it is warm, if you’re not afraid to see me.”

  I pulled back the blanket and stepped through the door. Maria sat on the far side of a small fire that barely lit her face. She motioned me forward to sit by the fire opposite her. She pointed to an old, blue, speckled Indah coffee pot. “I’ve coffee from Blazer’s store. Will you have a cup?”

  “I’ll drink your coffee, Mother of my first wife. Tell me why I’m here.”

  She smiled and, setting out two cups the same color as the coffee pot, poured us each coffee. My cup was scalding hot but had the best flavored coffee I’d tasted in a long time. I slurped the hot brew, smacked my lips, and slurped again. Maria took a swallow and blew air to cool her gullet. “Good,” she croaked.

  I waited for her to begin, but she drank the entire cup, folded her hands in her lap, looked at me out of the shadows, and said, “Juanita has been happy with you. She has wanted Moon on the Water to have the same happiness for a long time and speaks of you often. Moon on the Water wants you, even if she will be second wife. You’re a good man. Remember when I asked you not to take Juanita even if she offered herself to you when she went on the raid to the vaquero camp with you. You said you would not take her virtue. You kept your word. Your marriage has been a good one. I think this marriage will be a good thing. I know Moon on the Water thinks her marriage to you will be good.”

  Doves fluttered and called outside in the tree limbs above us.

  “I don’t understand why you choose a second wife who, like your first wife, probably cannot give you sons and daughters. Why do you do this? I’ll not have my child any man’s slave, if that’s what you plan. Watch my face when you answer. I would see the truth in your eyes. Speak.”

  I stared at Maria’s face as I answered. “I chose Moon on the Water as second wife because of dreams.”

  Maria frowned. “Dreams?”

  “Juanita’s dreams. She says she wants children for our family. No man wants her sister because they think Moon on the Water will be as barren as she. Juanita’s dreams show Moon will give us children and that, in time, they both will be mothers together, regardless of who bears the child. She asked me to take Moon as second wife. I honor her wishes.”

  Maria stared at me a long time in the silence of the cold, late sun and then smiled. “Yellow Boy speaks as true
as he did when we came here from the destruction of our homes and families in the Guadalupes. Take Moon on the Water as your second wife. Treat her well. Give me many grandchildren as Juanita dreams.”

  Then she looked down for a moment at her hands folded in her lap and said, “Now I must tell you something that may change your mind. Not even Juanita knows this. Moon on the Water has bad dreams. Maybe once every five to ten suns one comes. She awakes moaning and crying, fearful of what she has seen in the land of visions and dreams.”

  “What dreams does she have?”

  “It’s only one dream about the time the Blue Coats put our people in that stone wall corral filled more than a hand span’s depth of dirt from horses. She’s had this dream since we returned from Juh’s stronghold. It never came when we stayed in Chihuahua. I spoke with Nautzile’s di-yen about this at her Haheh ceremony. He said ghosts from that time haunt her in this land and that, if it happens long enough, she might become a witch, and others might try to burn her. I think the di-yen speaks nonsense. I have told no others. If you withdraw your gift for her, I’ll understand and never blame you.”

  I crossed my arms and stared at her. “I tell you your child may dream dreams, but she’ll never be a witch. She’ll be second wife to Yellow Boy, Killer of Witches, killer of Sangre del Diablo. I want Moon on the Water. Give her to me that I might yet have children.”

  Maria held up her hands palms out. “Moon on the Water is your second wife. Let’s smoke to Ussen on this good day that I give her to you.”

  “Hmmph. It is a good day, Grandmother.”

  CHAPTER 45

  CAMP OF KITSIZIL LICHOO’

  For the next three days, the women in the camp sat with Moon on the Water and taught her their knowledge of good husbandry. I realized, in remembering the talks Juanita had had with Moon while I sat outside the tipi on my blanket, able only to hear mumbles, laughs, and giggles between them, that Juanita had told her sister what she needed to know to make me a good wife.

  Juanita rearranged the tipi to make room for Moon and her things. We talked about how she planned to share the work with Moon and that, in matters of intimacy, she would sleep in Maria’s tipi when Moon and I wanted privacy, and that Moon would do the same for us. She laughed and said, “Husband, you’re a strong man. Now you double the chances of having a child if you don’t neglect either of us. We don’t expect that you will.”

  I thought, Pretty soon now, I’ll need to go on a long hunt.

  On the fourth day after Maria accepted my bridal gift, the camp had a feast and dance around a big fire in front of the shallow cave we used for councils and meetings. Our hunters had taken a blacktail deer and an elk cow, and Yibá, who saw me as friend and teacher, traded one of his cows for Indah canned goods and sweets that the women prepared. No one even thought of using the food stores the women had set aside for Ghost Face for a celebration so close to the cold, hard times.

  I sat between Moon and Juanita surrounded by our friends. We ate and told stories about the old times, and Bear and Coyote tales. Kah and Deer Woman, happy with their first child, now just off the tsach, were anxious to have another. Lucky Star, wife of Yibá, carried their first child. Shiyé, Beela-chezzi and Carmen Rosario’s son, soon would come to us for manhood training, and so would my little brother, two harvests younger than Shiyé.

  We had good fortune for our celebration. No snow had yet fallen, and the day grew surprisingly warm with little wind. As the sun fell into the distant mountains, the sky filled with blood reds, deep purples, gold, and orange colors painted on clouds coming filled with snow and ice and hard, cold times.

  Moon, Juanita, and I left the celebration among well wishes for happy times, many children, and long life. We walked together to the tipi. At the blanket door, Juanita hugged Moon and whispered, “A good night comes, my sister. Make our man proud and give us the children we all want. Come for me when you’re ready.”

  Moon hugged Juanita and said, “You’ve given me a great gift, my sister. I’ll make my new husband happy.”

  Juanita hugged me. “The spirit of my husband is great. It makes me glad for this day. I wait for you in Maria’s tipi. Call, and I will come.”

  I held her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes. “You’re always with me Woman of Great Heart.”

  She smiled and turned away to Maria’s tipi. I pulled back the blanket and motioned for Moon to enter. “I’ll wait here. Don’t hurry. Take your time. Call me when you’re ready.” She nodded and stepped inside the tipi. It was growing cold fast, and there was a smell of snow in the air. I squatted by the tipi door and pulled the good, thicket blanket around my shoulders over the top of my head while I smoked a cigarro.

  I had not finished the cigarro when I heard her call, “Come, husband.” I went inside. Moon on the Water lay under her blankets, only her face, calm and peaceful, and her shining hair, loose and spread over the ground blanket and her pillow like black fire, lay uncovered. I could see her high shaft moccasins and soft, beaded buckskins neatly folded and set on her side of the tipi. She whispered, “I’m ready. Come to me, my husband.”

  I knelt beside her and stroked the sides of her face. “I can wait if you fear this and need to get used to me.” She shook her head. “I’ve waited for this since my Haheh ceremony. I’ve waited too long. Come and be my man. You stir me with desire.”

  I spread my blanket over her to give us more warmth against the growing cold. My skin prickled in the cold air as my best clothes came off. Her eyes, big, dark pools, never left me as I slid under the blankets beside her and her arms closed around me. Her scent filled my head and her soft caresses stirred me. She made me feel like a young man again and gladly received me many times that night before we slept, her head upon my shoulder and her arms around my middle in the newness of discovering ourselves in each other.

  Deep in the Ghost Face, the usual rhythms of life returned. I hunted often, but game was still scarce. Juanita and Moon divided the tipi labor so life was easier for them, and they made more baskets and finer tanned buckskin than they had done before. Eventually, they overcame their modesty and stayed in the tipi even when the other was under the blankets with me.

  We had only one problem with our living arrangement. Moon’s dreams shocked us awake about every ten suns. We knew when she had them by the low moans of terror that woke Juanita and me. When I shook Moon awake, they grew louder, and she would jerk upright, her eyes wide but unseeing, as she came back to this world. When I asked her what she had dreamed, it was nearly always the same. Blue Coats were watching and laughing at her as she sank in a big stone-lined hole overflowing with horse dirt that had no bottom. She always woke up moaning for help when she was about to disappear in it. Juanita would hug her, and I would rub her back until she returned to the land of dreams unafraid.

  A harvest passed, and Moon still had the same dream. Neither of my wives’ bellies yet swelled with the life of a child. I found a di-yen on the reservation who claimed to know how to drive away bad dreams. He came to the camp late one sun during the Season of Large Leaves. That night by a small fire in front of the cave we used when the whole camp gathered, he spread his special medicine blanket covered with strange signs, and asked Moon to sit on it facing the east while he made symbols with golden pollen on the blanket and on her and sang his ceremony. His ceremony was long and difficult to follow, and it went on most of the night. He finished by placing his right hand on top of her head and singing a special, short song to draw out the bad dreams; he then gave her a blue stone to wear when she slept that he said would capture the bad dreams and never let them go.

  I gave the di-yen a pony for his services. Moon told me she didn’t feel any different and didn’t know if the dream had left. In twelve suns, it returned. The camp worried witchcraft made the dream come, especially since a strong, young woman taken by a respected warrior gave no signs of producing a child and the di-yen had not made the dream leave.

  A dark time came to our tipi. Moon as
ked if I wanted her to return to her mother. I said, “That won’t happen.” The other women in camp began to avoid her and stayed far from her. Now she frowned much more than she laughed. All the camp listened for Moon’s dream that brought her terror deep in the night and talked about it, staring at her from a distance on the days after it happened.

  I sat outside the tipi often, now by myself, for my friends feared to come near anyone who might be under the spell of a strong witch. One evening as the golden glow of the moon filled the night sky, Moon on the Water helped Maria in her tipi, leaving Juanita and me alone together. Juanita came outside and sat down beside me.

  “I would speak with my husband in a good way.”

  “My first wife always speaks in a good way. I listen.”

  “My sister, your second wife, needs to leave the camp for a while. Our good People fear her. They shun and whisper about her when no one thinks she sees, but she sees and feels great sorrow. She speaks of you divorcing her so she can go away and live by herself. I know Maria told you about her dreams and how they didn’t come when we stayed in Juh’s camp. I’ve never seen her more happy than there. I’ve thought about this a long time. I give you a thought.”

  Golden light filled the mountains as the moon drifted up over the ridges east of the great White Mountain. Trees and ridges stood in sharp, black shadows.

  “Tell me your thought. I will listen.”

  “Take Moon on the Water to live in an Apache camp in the Blue Mountains. Her dream won’t come there, and the camp where she stays won’t shun her. Stay a moon or two with her, then come back and stay a moon or two with me. The times we’re apart will be no worse than the days when Apaches raided often and the warriors were gone for a moon or longer. Being with one woman during a month should make your blood stronger and both your wives more likely to make a child. I know five or six days of riding every month will be hard on you, but it will save your wife, my sister, from becoming an outcast from her People. What do you think, husband?”