Comanche Dawn (43 page)

He heard the Black Robe murmur something. The noose around his neck loosened enough to let a breath of air slip into his lungs. Looking up, Horseback saw the evil holy man making the sign of the cross—the thing that had killed the son of God who walked on earth. He tried to get up, but the Black Robe struck him hard over the head with his staff. Blood ran into one of His eyes. He heard laughter and watched the Black Robe go to the place where the sweat lodge had been. The sacred-evil one picked up the gourd dipper. He filled the dipper at the edge of the river and came back to stand over Horseback.

The power of Sound-the-Sun-Makes was behind the Black Robe, and Horseback felt the chill of the evil shadow. Water poured over his head, thinning the blood that had blinded one eye. In a burst of escaping fury, Horseback sprang, reached with his free hand, and seized the Black Robe by the throat. Instantly, the ropes tightened, but his hand was like an eagle talon. He would fight to the death! He pulled the evil holy man toward him and wrapped both legs around his black garment, feeling his fingers gouge deep into the flesh of the
puhakut
of the Metal Men.

The Black Robe was a big man, and strong, but Horseback held on. The ropes tightened, cutting off his air, making his bones stretch and pop. Still, he tore at the throat of the white man. His chest began to burn as his soul sought escape. The sky darkened, his grip weakened. He felt the big white man slip away. Soon, pain slammed into his head like a huge bee sting. Again and again.

Air came back into his lungs, but Horseback was unable to move. He felt the soldiers taking the ropes from him, fixing them now to his hands and feet. He rested, tried to feel something beyond the horrible pain that swarmed about him. He felt his hands stretched two ways, as his feet pulled another. His mouth was full of dirt. He heard the angry voice of the Black Robe.

Twisting his neck, Horseback saw the big
puhakut
standing over him. He heard the rope song, felt the blistering sear of pain on his back. He heard the song again, and again, until the sound of his own screams joined it. The only thing he could see in the blur of pain and blood and sweat was his medicine bundle lying dusty on the ground in front of him. He could not reach it.

The pain was more horrible than anything he could have imagined. The gods were indeed angry with him. He could not have foreseen such punishment, such torture. He was coming apart, like a rabbit skin pulled too quickly from the rabbit. All the world was pain. Pain. Darkness.

Dragging across the ground. Cold river water. Searing pain. Angry, angry spirits. Torture. Darkness. Darkness. Darkness.

39

In seasons to come,
children and grandchildren and even grandchildren's children would hear the story of the Great Vision. And so it was told by the elders:

In his sleep, Horseback felt a great heat bearing down upon his back. The rays of Sound-the-Sun-Makes pierced his flesh like porcupine quills and lifted him. Higher, higher. He opened his eyes and saw Santa Fe, the city of the Metal Men, falling farther below him. Icy winds whistled around his naked body like blasts from the wings of the Thunderbird. His own hair, in which he took such pride for its length and sheen, whipped him like a quirt would whip a pony.

He rose as high as the mountain peaks to the east of the city, yet he was not afraid. It felt good to fly. He was like a hawk, tracing sacred circles in the sky. He shivered with chills and groaned with waves of pain, but the flying was good. He was safe here, away from Metal Men, and
Na-vohnuh,
and deer antlers lying hidden in the grass.

Now he circled and saw his own camp beside the river. He swooped low to look closer. His father and his warrior friends had returned. There were many horses in camp. They were calling for him, looking at his blood on the ground near the ruined sweat lodge. His father was worried. Turning on a blast of wind, Horseback saw Paniagua coming from the lodge of Raccoon-Eyes, and knew Paniagua would tell the others what the Black Robe and the soldiers had done.

A strong southern breeze lifted him away before he could call to his father. He was carried higher than the clouds, and the scorching rays of Sound-the-Sun-Makes fell unshadowed on his back. He flew northward like a spirit-eagle, and mountain peaks that stuck up above the clouds moved by as quickly as stones passed at a gallop on a fleet young pony.

The clouds cleared away below him, and there in a valley of brown grass, beside a stream of rushing water, Horseback saw a camp. Diving like a falcon, he came low enough to recognize horses he had seen Bad Camper ride. Songs came from the camp. Warriors danced, surrounded by women and children. He saw Bad Camper dancing and he smiled, remembering that Bad Camper was the brother of his father's second wife, Looks Away. He felt no hatred of these dancing
Yutas
and wondered why he should fight them.

The rays of Father Sun pulled up at the flesh of his back again, and Horseback rose, pushed northward by the southerly breeze. He sped on like a shooting star. The country changed below him, the trees and grass of the mountains giving way to rocks and sage of the bad lands. These were the hunting grounds of the
Noomah,
the harsh lands that had made him strong, and tough, and hungry. He angled to the east and saw a camp in the distance, near the stream called Sometimes Water. From far away he recognized the lodges of the Burnt Meat People, and his heart rushed to think of his family and friends.

He shot forward with the speed of an arrow and heard a terrible sound that turned his heart to ice. All the women in the camp were wailing. He flew low, and found his sister, Mouse, kneeling, crying, cutting off all her hair. He circled the camp, and found Looks Away, crouching beyond the limits of the camp, apart from the others. She was weeping. Facing the wind now, he hovered, like a red-tailed hawk watching a rat below, and he found his mother, River Woman. She screamed as she slashed her arms and breasts with a jagged flint knife. Blood poured from the wounds in sheets, and her horrible screams turned to a pitiable wail.

Glancing aside, Horseback saw two bodies lying upon burial robes. Quickly, he flew that way, and saw the lifeless face of Red Pipe, two winters younger than himself. Red Pipe had been afraid to ride horses, but was a good young foot-warrior. There were many wounds on his chest and stomach. His scalp was gone. The women covered him with the burial robe.

Lying next to the body of Red Pipe, was that of old Spirit Talker, scalped, his throat cut, one wound to his rib cage. The women paid little attention to this corpse, for though Spirit Talker was wise and powerful, he was old and weak and not missed as much as a rising warrior who might have fed and protected the people for many winters to come. The old man was left uncovered by the wailing women for a long time, as Horseback looked down on him and felt very sad.

He thought a tear would fall from his eye and land upon the body of Spirit Talker, but just then a powerful blast of wind lifted him violently in the air, twisting his whole body and making his joints hurt all over. He found himself hurtling northward on a crazy wind, into the good mountain country of the Northern Raiders. The wind took him to a camp in the foothills, with many lodges, and more ponies than Horseback ever thought the Northern Raiders would possess.

He cringed with hatred when he realized that his enemies were holding a scalp dance, their women trilling with joy even as the women of the Burnt Meat People were wailing with sorrow. He saw two scalps on poles, and knew they were the scalps of Spirit Talker and Red Pipe. They were feasting and singing and dancing, and Horseback hated them.

He heard a battle cry, and flew through the darkening sky to hover over the warrior who had made it. There were other warriors here, laughing and smoking. Then he saw the backside of a naked warrior, and realized there was a woman under the warrior. Horseback's breath seemed to still in his chest, and he did not want to look closer, but the winds forced him lower, and he saw the eyes of Whip's sister, White Bird, staring up him, looking right through him as he floated above her. She was bloody and bruised, and the warriors were waiting to defile her, one at a time.

His rage grew within him, but he was weak, and could only float, like a leaf on the wind. He tried to cry out in anger, but his breath was stuck inside, and his whole chest hurt. The sun's rays scorched his back again and pulled him away … away to the south and east … back into the
Noomah
country …

Not very far from the camp of the Northern Raiders—maybe three sleeps for a war party—Horseback spied the camp of the Corn People on a stream called Lightning River, far out in the open sage and grass plains. His heart began to pound, for he knew he would see Teal in the camp. He passed over warriors hunting buffalo, hiding under wolf skins to sneak within arrow range of the herd. The Corn People still hunted in this old way, for they possessed few horses and did not care much about riding.

It was good to see the Corn People warriors hunting, and now, closer to the camp, he saw women digging up yampa roots with their sticks, and this, too, made him feel good. Yet, Horseback knew they were in danger, for the war party of the Northern Raiders was only three sleeps away in the foothills. The breeze was gentle here, and Horseback floated lazily as he searched for Teal.

Now he heard a sweet song drifting upward and passed over a swale to find Teal alone, singing, digging up roots. Her slender arms writhed with muscles and made Horseback want to hold her. He saw his birdlike shadow fall on her, and called out, but his voice came out like the cry of a hawk. She looked up, but the sun blinded her, and she could not see that it was Horseback. Horseback tried to pull in his wings and dive down to her, but the talons of Sound-the-Sun-Makes pulled viciously at his back and Horseback knew he should not have called out to her, for he did not yet deserve to hold her and know the pleasures of her flesh. He had much to do. He was yet weak. His power was just now coming back to him. He rose in the air, and Teal became a tiny speck down in the grassy swale.

The crazy wind returned and wrenched Horseback away, causing pain to crawl around under his skin from head to toe. The pain made him groan, and he remembered that he was still being punished for the bad thing he had done. He sped above the clouds again, heading south. The great mountains passed to his right, and below he could see herds of buffalo dotting the fine grassy plains. Among the buffalo moved elk, antelope, wolves, coyotes, and deer. Horseback sang the Song of the Sun in homage to the deer he saw below, for he knew he must revere his spirit-guide animal now more than ever before.

Passing over grass-covered plains that went on and on, he recognized the earthen village of Tachichichi where his friend Speaks Twice lived, and where Bear Heart lay wounded. Now he began to see camps of
Na-vohnuh,
recognizable by the red-and-white lodges. His hatred flared again, and he wished he had the strength at this moment to attack these ancient enemies of the True Humans, but he was weak and was barely able to ride on the crazy wind. He looked a long way across the great plains, and saw that the
Na-vohnuh
held all of the good grass, and the best hunting grounds Horseback could ever have imagined.

Suddenly, he saw something strange appear below. It looked like a herd of buffalo, but it faded, then vanished, then appeared again, as if viewed through a mist. Something circled this herd of buffalo, and when Horseback looked closer, he could see spirit-warriors who wore the feathers and blue leggings of the True Humans. He watched them with fascination as they rode horses that were finer than any he had ever known. They swarmed around the misty buffalo and killed many, many of them. Now Horseback saw more misty warriors joining the hunt, and they carried scalps on their belts and feathers in their hair. They were coming from the north. Many, many warriors, all misty and hard to watch. They kept coming and coming, and they made camps that wavered like the spirit visions that appeared in the bad lands under the hot summer sun. And for each warrior there were twenty misty horses. Horseback wondered why they were not real. He wondered why they looked like dream-people. It was strange.

As he watched the nation of mist people, a roar like that of a huge prairie fire came from above, the flames making the flesh of his back crackle like fat thrown into the fire. Horseback's mouth opened to scream, but no noise came out. He tumbled in flight, and when he stopped, he saw the angry red eyes of Sound-the-Sun-Makes, the Great Deer, boring his soul with rays of pure power.

“You have been careless!” the spirit said, his voice coming out like a roar. He shook his head in anger, making flames lash about his neck like the mane of a spirit-pony.

“Yes,” Horseback said. “I must atone.”

“It is not I who punishes you. It is the shadow of evil made dark by my bright flame. You have suffered enough. Give back the power I gave to you in your vision quest, and you will suffer no more.”

“Give back my
puha?
” Horseback asked.

“And you will suffer no more.”

“I want to keep my medicine.”

“You do not deserve to keep it. You have been careless with it. This time, you alone suffer. Next time, your whole nation may suffer.”

“I have learned, Sound-the-Sun-Makes. I will not be careless again.”

“Give back your power, and you will return to your own country. You will live long and have sons. You will survive the winters and eat things of the earth. You will escape your enemies.”

“And if I choose to keep my power?”

“You will flirt with the shadow again.”

“What will happen?”

“You have seen the nation of Horse People in the mist of seasons to come. This is your nation, Horseback, if you honor your spirit-guide. All the greatness and all the blessings of the Shadow Land will go with you.
If
you honor your protector.”