Comanche Dawn (47 page)

Teal looked at Little Cloud and Grass-in-the-Wind as if she did not believe Slope Child.

“It is true,” said Little Cloud, “and it is a revenge fight.”

“Revenge?” Teal said. “For what? The Northern Raiders have not attacked our village for three winters. The elders have chosen our camping places wisely.”

Little Cloud held her upturned hands wide apart. “Horseback has said that it is a revenge fight according to his vision.”

“He says he flew in his vision,” added Grass-in-the-Wind, “and saw you gathering roots.”

Teal felt her flesh gather with spirit-powers, tightening all over her body. She began wading out of the pool.

“Are you alright, my friend?” said Grass-in-the-Wind.

“One day when I was gathering roots, I had a strange thought about Horseback. I was sad. I felt that he was dying. Then I heard a hawk and looked straight up. I could not look at the hawk because he flew just under Father Sun.”

“Was it Horseback in the shape of a hawk?”

“I believe so.”

Teal wrung out her shiny black hair, then pressed water from her flesh with her palms, first from her arms, then her body, and finally her legs. The other girls admired her grace, the fullness of her high breasts, the smoothness of her skin as she stood drying in the cool breeze.

“Now I am clean for the scalp dance,” she said. “It is good that Horseback goes to attack our enemy. It is good that he has had a great vision, for it will protect him. I am going to dance well at the scalp dance, and at the war dance on the next night. If my husband is wounded when he returns, I will take care of him.”

“If he returns alive,” Slope Child said. “Horseback is very brave. He will seek danger.”

“Hush!” said Grass-in-the-Wind. “Teal is not afraid. She makes prayers to the spirits!”

“So does Slope Child,” said one of the other girls. “She prays to the spirits that make all peckers stiff with lust!”

The girls gasped at the suggestion, then laughed. Even Slope Child laughed. Teal laughed, too, hiding the bad feeling she felt in her heart She had hoped to be married to Horseback by the time the moon rose. Now she would have to wait, and dance, and pray, and wait some more.

Still, she felt excited. Horseback had come to her first, even before going to see his own mother. She knew that life as the wife of a great warrior would require courage, and she did not intend to show any lack of courage now. She was not even a wife yet, but she was prepared to serve her husband-to-be. Besides, in the chaos of two nights of dancing, she knew opportunities would arise to meet Horseback in secret. She was ready.

Horseback was the one. The Corn People girls all talked about him since meeting him during the great camp-together. He had been born on the day of First Horse. He had special powers over the hearts of horses. He had traveled to the land of hairy-faced white people. Now he had seen a Great Vision. Teal barely knew him, and already, she loved him very much.

*   *   *

The camp of the Corn People went crazy with dancing through two nights. The first night, Teal had no chance to be with Horseback, for he danced under the scalps hung high on the scalp poles, and he danced well, and he danced all night long. He slept all the next day, for he seemed very tired from his long journey.

On the second night, Horseback bathed in cold water, purified himself with smoke, painted his face black with war paint, and went to the lodge of the elders with the other men. There he listened to the old warriors tell stories of great victories and strokes counted in battle. When the more experienced warriors had spoken, Horseback had the chance to tell what had happened at the fight with Metal Men in the far south. His talk held the attention of the men more so than that of any other speakers, for although Horseback was a warrior of very little experience, he was known to possess great medicine. Teal only heard some of the story, for she had to listen through the hides of the lodge, like the other women.

After the telling of stories, there was dancing. Again, Horseback danced well, never looking up for Teal. The drums sounded like spirit-thunder, and the trained voices of singers stirred the souls of all True Humans with loud wails and high piercing yells. As dawn neared, the warriors who would accompany Horseback went to their women, for soon they would have to gather their weapons and mount their war ponies.

Horseback found Teal between the dancing circle and the lodge of her father. He looked fierce and powerful painted for battle. He wore a headpiece of buffalo horns and carried a new shield that had been given to him by the Corn People, to replace the sacred shield the Metal Man had damaged in the far south. A single yellow feather protruded from his scalp lock.

“My woman,” he said. “Pray for me while I am gone. I will bring back scalps.” He strode closer to her, his fierce eyes gleaming bright from the black paint on his face, searching her all over, as if passing judgement on a fine horse.

She took two small steps toward him—cautious steps to show him she wanted to be nearer, yet did not want to interfere with his preparations to fight. When they came together, she pressed herself hard against him, feeling her own heart beat furiously. “My warrior, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” he said, his hand slipping around the back of her neck.

“I have been riding horses. When I go to dig roots, and no one sees, I catch my father's horse—the one that drags the rope. This horse teaches me to ride. I no longer fall off. My father does not know about this, but it is true.”

“This is good, woman. When I take you for my wife, we will ride together. You will see.”

His lips were on her cheek now, so Teal turned her face toward him and felt his lips on hers. She leaned harder against him and felt the spirit-mysteries swarm over and through her again. Then he was gone.

44

Two warriors from the
Corn People joined Horseback's revenge raid. One was Teal's father, High Feather, who was known as a great foot-warrior, but was learning the ways of the young horsebacks. The other was Horseback's friend Trotter, who was promised to marry his little sister, Mouse, when the Moon of Green Grass returned. Trotter was the best horseman among the Corn People and wanted to prove himself to his future father-in-law, Shaggy Hump.

High Feather rode the Spanish saddle tree covered with sheepskin. He had seen this strange saddle and admired it, so Horseback had given it to him. Now, after a day of riding, High Feather praised the saddle, though Horseback could see that the hard riding had made him sore.

“If I do not return from this battle,” High Feather told Horseback, “you must give this saddle to my daughter when you take her into your lodge. It will keep her from falling off. She thinks I do not know, but she has been riding my horse.”

The second day, they passed from a rough sage country onto high rolling plains covered with fine grass, brown now after the time of frost. When the sun started down, they found themselves among ponderosa pines, and knew they had crossed into the country of the Northern Raiders.

“My son,” Shaggy Hump said as twilight gathered around their tired ponies. “You are leading us to the lodge pole camp of the Northern Raiders, though I know you have never been there. I raided this camp many winters ago, before you were born. How do you know where to find it?”

“I have seen the way in my vision,” Horseback said. “Ride ahead, my father, and watch for signs of the sacred deer. When darkness comes and the giant cannibal owl rises into the sky, we will camp. I do not want to stumble across any sacred deer trails in the dark.”

Shaggy Hump nodded. “We have passed from the country of antelope, into the country of the deer nation. I will watch the trail for you, my son. Your power protects us. We must all honor it.”

Horseback slept soundly that night, for he wanted to search his dreams for spirit-guidance. When he awoke, he could only remember one dream. In the dream, Whip's sister, White Bird, was saying, “Help me, Horseback. Help me, friend of my younger brother.” She was only standing there in the dream, as she might stand in her own camp of the Burnt Meat People, yet Horseback awoke with his heart beating furiously, and his body covered with sweat.

The warriors did not speak that day until the smokes of the Northern Raiders' camp were seen in the sky. They gathered around Horseback as he put his war bridle on his battle pony, which he had spared from riding until now.

“This fight is for revenge,” Horseback said. “Only I know the reason for this revenge, but you will know soon. Trust my vision. We have cause to hate and kill our enemies.” He swung onto his pony, who started to prance and snort. “Stay out of Whip's way. He will be angry. Do not race Whip for strokes counted in battle. There will be plenty of strokes for all of us, for this is a big enemy camp. Fight on the backs of your ponies. My vision says we must use the spirit-power of our horses to defeat our enemies. When you see me chase the horses of our enemies through their camp, you will know the time has come to finish the battle and go back to our own country.”

The True Humans looked at each other, drawing courage from the black face paint worn by all, and from the tattooed scars of the old ones. Their weapons and shields looked good, dancing with feathers and scalp locks.

High Feather spoke. “I am an old warrior. I wish to die in a good fight before my hair goes white, like the head of the great eagle. Maybe today I will die, and while you shiver this winter in your lodges, you will think of me running without shirt or leggings, hunting elk in the Shadow Land.”

Horseback shook the shield given to him by the Corn People. He leaned on his war pony, and the whole party ran toward the enemy camp at a gallop.

The Northern Raiders of the lodge pole camp did not see the
Noomah
warriors until they had galloped almost into the village. Horseback screamed his shrill war cry, and the seven True Humans scattered, weaving through the camp like swallows racing through the air. Their war clubs swung at enemy warriors running for their weapons, but only Echo-of-the-Wolf counted a stroke, as he had trained his pony to get him close.

Horseback rode all the way through the camp without taking a swing at his enemies, yet he liked the way they ran from him. He remembered his grandfather dying in the Red Canyon, his mother stoning the Northern Raider warrior to death. He remembered his vision, the bodies of Red Pipe and Spirit Talker. His eyes swept angrily through the camp as an arrow flew past him, tearing the flesh on his shoulder.

Finding the source of this arrow, he saw a warrior drawing a bow for a second shot. High Feather appeared behind the enemy bowman, distracting him with a war cry and a swipe of his club, and Horseback charged. The enemy bowman wore a scalp on his belt, and Horseback knew it belonged to young Red Pipe. He threw himself to the side of his pony as the arrow sailed over him. He swung over the top of the pony and felt his war club shatter the skull of the enemy who wore Red Pipe's scalp. Holding the mane of his pony in one hand, he reached low to grab the hair of the enemy so he could drag him aside and take his scalp.

The other
Noomah
warriors had already left three dead in the camp. Enemy screams mingled with glorious
Noomah
war cries, yet through the noise Horseback heard a shrill voice speaking in the tongue of True Humans.

“Help me, Horseback! Help me, friend of my younger brother!”

When his eyes found her, White Bird was using a length of fire wood to fight off an enemy warrior's knife. White Bird fought well, but she was weak and thin from her captivity.

Now Whip came between two lodges, his eyes as wild as the scream of rage that escaped his lips. He rode his horse over the enemy warrior, then turned, drawing his bow before the stunned enemy could rise.

“You defile my father's blood with your seed!” he shouted. He pinned the warrior to the ground with an arrow, slipped from his horse, and gave the reins to his sister. Cutting the belt of the dying man's loin skins, he grabbed the evil penis of his enemy and cut it off, throwing it aside. Horseback circled protectively, and he happened to see Trotter breaking off the shaft of an arrow that had pierced his thigh.

Now Whip had the scalp of his sister's despoiler, and he tucked it under his belt as he mounted. “Take my sister on your pony, Horseback. I am going to catch an enemy woman and make her good!”

The
Noomah
warriors continued to swarm, but the Northern Raiders had gathered women and children protectively at the north end of camp and had started to fight their way back into their own village. Horseback knew the time had come to take the enemy horses and retreat with scalps and war wounds. He pulled White Bird on behind him and circled toward the small herd of enemy horses that had drawn near the camp to see the strange ponies.

He passed Bear Heart, who had loosened his loin skins to urinate on an abandoned enemy shield in sight of the Northern Raiders. He laughed as arrows arched through the sky, missing him.

Looking back, Horseback saw Shaggy Hump and High Feather going from lodge to lodge, using their lance blades to pull the bear-skin entrance covers aside so they could look inside. White Bird held tightly to him as he circled the enemy horses and drove them toward camp.

As his warriors drew toward him, he heard a shout, and saw Whip riding at a gallop all along the front line of the enemy. Arrows sang around him like wasps, his shield catching two. Suddenly, he angled into the surprised enemy warriors and scattered a bunch of women and children who had gathered behind their men for protection. The enemy bowmen would not shoot at him here, for fear of hitting one of their own. Whip chased a young girl who ran faster than the others. She dodged, but he leaned far to one side, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her away through a tangle of low pine branches.

Shaggy Hump and High Feather circled back to cover the retreat of Whip with his captive. As High Feather whirled his pony, an arrow angled in behind his shield and pierced his side, hurting him so badly that he fell from his mount. As the Northern Raiders rushed to count the first strokes, Trotter and Echo turned back to protect High Feather. Riding one to either side, they ignored the weapons of the enemy as they swooped downward to grab the arms of High Feather in a maneuver they had practiced often around their own camps. Lifting the old warrior between them, they bore him beyond the reach of enemy scalping knives, yet High Feather left a trail of blood on the ground.