Comanche Woman (18 page)

“Yes,” she gasped, “but Many Horses is not!”

His eyes searched out the other man and found the reason for her concern. “Stay here.”

He dropped her off his pony onto shaky feet, and she stood there dazed as he raced away from her toward the rampaging buffalo.

Many Horses began to think the disaster had been averted and he need not die after all—at least not on this fine day. He’d distracted the buffalo from Shadow so it now chased him. In mere moments he would loose an arrow into the hump of the animal that would pierce through to its heart, and the threat would be vanquished. The bull was running unpredictably, but his pony was the best mount he’d ever had and well trained to anticipate and avoid the buffalo’s path. From the corner of his eye he noticed Long Quiet had removed Shadow from danger and was now joining him.

“The kill is yours,” Long Quiet shouted as he flanked the buffalo on the other side to keep it from veering away from Many Horses’ attack.

Many Horses drew his bow with such strength that the first arrow buried itself to the feathers. The second went all the way through the buffalo’s hump. The giant animal collapsed in a heap, and the two men pulled their ponies to a halt shortly beyond it.

“I will make certain of the kill,” Many Horses said, “if you will take Shadow back to join the other women.”

“I would like to take Shadow across my knee!” Long Quiet said sharply.

Many Horses laughed. It was a sound of relief. Relief that Shadow, whose medicine had not yet been returned to her according to custom, was safe. Relief that his death had not been the price for her safety. “It is good she is so fleet-footed, is it not,
haints?
Perhaps I should warn her to run again,” he said with a grin.

Long Quiet returned the grin. “She would not get far before I caught her. But I will go now, before she finds her way into more trouble.”

When Many Horses turned back to the buffalo, he discovered She Touches First there ahead of him. He’d forgotten for a moment she was every bit as fleet of foot as Shadow. In fact, she’d acquired her name by having more than once been the first woman to touch a downed buffalo and claim it.

“You foolish man!”

Her accusation brought him off his pony in an instant and face to angry face with her.

“How dare you speak so to me, woman!”

“I dare because you
are
a foolish man. How could you not heed the
puhakut
’s warning? How could you risk your life for the white woman, Shadow?”

He grasped her by her shoulders. “What is my life to you?”

“You are war chief of the
Quohadi
. To lose you would be to lose the strength of a leader. Should I not care whether this village is safe from our enemies?”

“Is that all I am to you?” he demanded.

“Once you would have been everything to me,” she replied, her eyes fiery with disdain. “Your falseness put an end to that.”

“I have dealt with you as you have dealt with me. The fault is not all mine.”

She Touches First winced at the vehemence of his accusation. Her gaze ran freely over Many Horses’ features until at last her eyes slipped to his mouth and fastened there.

Many Horses felt his body respond as She Touches First stroked his face with her eyes. He searched her face for some remnant of the love he thought they’d once shared, but her features were expressionless. He sighed with regret and said, “Give me a moment to take back my arrows, and the buffalo is yours.”

She Touches First wasn’t sure when she first realized the buffalo wasn’t dead. In the ordinary course of things, Many Horses would have made sure of the kill before he retrieved his arrows. But they’d both been distracted by their argument and the unspoken feelings between them. Terror took the air from her lungs. She gasped, and gasped again, before she cried out, “Noooooo!”

Her shouted warning came too late.

The buffalo did no more than lift its head abruptly and Many Horses was impaled on a sharp, thick horn. The massive head tossed once, twice, and the Comanche warrior was thrown away from the buffalo like discarded pecan shells, a jagged gash in his belly that left bright red blood spilling onto the dry prairie grass.

A horrible scream rent the air and soared on the breeze, interrupting Long Quiet’s tirade against Bay’s carelessness. Their heads snapped around to discover its source. They could see a body on the ground not far from the buffalo that had chased Bay, but it wasn’t apparent who lay there. Long Quiet mounted, with Bay behind him, and galloped back toward the chaos that had erupted around the buffalo.

The effort to gore Many Horses had taken the lifeblood of the shaggy beast, but She Touches First hadn’t paid the dying buffalo any mind, rushing instead to Many Horses’ side. They’d been quickly surrounded by a host of women, all shouting and crying and angling for a better view of the wounded man.

The hovering women reminded Long Quiet of vultures. He threw himself off his pony and scattered the women as he would have scattered the black birds, with little concern for the injury he inflicted. Like the ugly scavengers, the women scurried to escape his avenging strength.

Bay had followed in Long Quiet’s wake, so they both reached Many Horses’ body at the same time. She Touches First sat with the warrior’s head in her lap. Bay shoved past Long Quiet to kneel beside Many Horses, noticing for the first time the bloody entrails protruding from his wound. Many Horses’ eyes were closed, and Bay feared for a moment that he was dead. Then she saw his chest rise and fall and she breathed a sigh of thankfulness. She wanted desperately to help but didn’t know what to do. Bay’s eyes met Long Quiet’s, but she found no solace there. His eyes were as bleak as her own.

It was She Touches First who broke the ominous silence first. “The
puhakut
spoke truly. Many Horses’
puha
did not protect him. Shadow’s magic must have helped the buffalo prevail against such a mighty hunter.”

The excited chattering of the women stopped at the harsh accusation made by the
puhakut
’s sister, who continued, “Because of this woman, a brave man is hurt. Shadow cast a spell to make Many Horses keep her in this village when the
puhakut
warned him of the danger. Because of her—”

“Hold your tongue!”

The surprising strength of Many Horses’ voice cut off She Touches First, but even his strong voice didn’t give her any hope he would survive. With such a wound in his belly, if he didn’t die quickly of blood loss, he’d surely die slowly and in agony of the poison sickness that usually resulted from such a wound. To see the man she had once loved with all her heart so mortally wounded kept her tongue wagging despite his command.

“She cast a spell on you!”

Bay noticed the cautious, fearful glances of the women and saw them edge farther away from her.

“I cast no spells,” Bay said. She could see, even as she denied the charge, that their fear grew simply from the fact that she’d spoken directly to them. She realized too late it would have been better to have said nothing. Bay shouldn’t have been surprised by the superstitious fears of the women, but she was. She was no sorceress!

“What happened here is no fault of Shadow’s,” Many Horses rasped.

“What of the words He Decides It spoke to you?” She Touches First challenged. “He warned that both you and the woman could not live in peace here.”

This gossip titillated the growing crowd, which edged unconsciously closer in order to be able to hear.

“Keep your thoughts . . . to yourself,” Many Horses warned in a low voice. “The decision was mine. Shadow had no say in the matter.”

“Will you send her away now that you see how dangerous it is to keep her?” She Touches First countered in an equally soft voice.

Many Horses didn’t answer her question. “Take me to my tipi,” he whispered to Long Quiet.

Long Quiet called for one of the travois that had been intended to carry the butchered buffalo back to the village. With the help of several of the women, he gently lifted Many Horses onto the hide bed. His wound bled freely, leaving red ribbons along Many Horses’ side.

Bay held Many Horses’ hand as the travois slowly made its way to the village. “I do not wish you to die,” she said.

His lips twisted into a weak smile. “It is too bad you are not a sorceress. I am afraid it will take some special kind of magic to keep me alive.”

“I will find the
puhakut
,” She Touches First said. “He will know if there is aught that can save you.”

Many Horses closed his eyes against the pain that had begun when he’d been moved. Until then, he hadn’t been aware how badly he was hurt. Once he’d seen his own purple and pink entrails poking through the skin, Many Horses had resigned himself to his death. His greatest regret was that he would not die in battle. He smiled grimly. At least he would not live to be a useless old man.

When He Decides It arrived, he was appalled to discover the grave nature of Many Horses’ wound. He did not believe even his strongest medicine would be good enough to heal Many Horses. Strangely, he felt no sense of triumph. He had never hated Many Horses, only envied him. And there was no doubt the entire village would feel the loss of this great war chief. But he was
puhakut
, and his honor demanded that he do all in his power to save the war chief of the
Quohadi
. He Decides It took command and began issuing orders. His first was, “You cannot stay here, Shadow.”

“But—”

“Do not speak. Go.”

Bay felt an ache behind her eyes, but she could see it would do no good to argue. She squeezed Many Horses’ hand one last time and, without looking back, left the tipi.

The
puhakut
turned to his sister and ordered, “Bring me seven pads from a prickly pear cactus.”

At last he turned to Long Quiet. “Go and cut the tail from the buffalo that did this and bring it to me.”

Once they were all gone, He Decides It found the gourd of water in the tipi and used some of it to rinse the blood from Many Horses’ skin. Carefully, he pressed the gaping entrails back into the cavity where they belonged. Then he waited until the others returned.

“My buffalo medicine is very powerful,” he said in an attempt to reassure Many Horses. But he couldn’t resist adding, “Still, you should not have flouted the will of the Great Spirit. I do not know if my skill will be enough to counter such bad medicine.”

Many Horses opened his eyes. “You are a good
puhakut
. I am sure if my life is to be spared, you will know how to accomplish it.”

He Decides It felt a stab of anger. How could Many Horses taunt him about his power even now? Suddenly, He Decides It could not stand to think Many Horses would die without knowing how thoroughly his life had been manipulated by the
puhakut
. . . or why. He Decides It let his anger goad him into revealing his dark secret. “We should have been brothers-in-law,” he said.

Many Horses paled. “It was my wish,” he admitted. “But your sister did not want me for her husband.”

“Oh yes. She did.”

Many Horses frowned, thinking he’d misunderstood. “She refused me.”

“Only after I confessed that you’d told me you found greater pleasure in the body of the white woman, Shadow, and that She Touches First would never be first in your eyes or your heart.”

Many Horses’ eyes lit with rage at the blatant lie told by the
puhakut
and his fists clenched at his sides. “You did not tell her of the tabu? That I could not touch Shadow . . . as a man touches a woman?”

“No.”

Despite the fact Many Horses was gravely wounded, the
puhakut
feared he was going to attack him. Many Horses’ attempt to rise was thwarted by his torn stomach muscles. He ground his teeth as he tried to keep from crying out with the pain. Finally, he recovered enough to demand, “Why?”

The
puhakut
shrugged. “I envied you.”

“What did I possess that you should envy me?”

“You were much honored by the people of this village.”

“No more than you!”

“It seemed so to me. You took what you wanted on raids and brought it back to the village to share with others. I had nothing.”

“You never went hungry. You had ponies so it was never needful that you walk,” Many Horses countered.

“Yes, but if you were not such a great war chief, I would have had little to show for my efforts as
puhakut
,” he replied.

“I do not understand.”