“Do you say that I lie?” Keytano asked challengingly.
“No,” Chetopa replied, dissembling. “I call back the words I spoke. I do not believe the great chief Keytano would lie.”
Keytano glared at him for a moment longer. Then he looked at Lapari, the medicine man.
“Lapari, you may come with me and watch and listen as I question Dlo Binanta. Then, you can bear witness that what I will tell the council is true.”
“You do not need Lapari,” Chetopa said quickly. “I will believe the word of Keytano.”
“I will take him so that all may believe,” Keytano said resolutely.
The conversation outside the wickiup had grown quiet, and Falcon was beginning to wonder if he should be concerned about his fate. They had not taken his guns from him when he arrived and that was a good sign. He didn’t believe they would let him keep his guns unless they planned to release him.
Still, the argument in the council had grown very heated, and he knew, instinctively, that he was not only the subject of the conversation, but the cause of the heat.
He loosened his guns. Whatever happened, he was not going to go down peacefully.
The flap opened and Keytano and an even older Indian came in. Falcon stood, not only to show the Indians respect, but also to be ready for any contingency.
“We have talked much about you in our council,” Keytano said.
“Yes, I have heard the talk,” Falcon replied. “I know there is much anger.”
Keytano looked surprised. “You speak our language?”
“No,” Falcon said. “One does not always need to understand the words to know what is being said. I can tell by the sound that there is anger.”
“This is true.”
“And the anger is with me,” Falcon said. It wasn’t a question, it was a declaration.
“Yes.”
“Keytano, do the people believe that I killed Yaakos Gan?”
“No,” Keytano answered. “Chetopa has said this, but I do not think that even he believes you killed my daughter.”
“That is good.”
“But Chetopa and many want to kill you anyway,” Keytano said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And they want to take up the path of war against the whites.”
“This would be wrong,” Falcon said. “I will not let anyone kill me easily. And if they try, I will kill many before I die.”
“Yes,” Keytano said. “I know this is true, because I know you are a brave warrior.”
“Why do you wish to take up the path of war?”
Keytano pointed in the direction of the stream. “You have seen our water,” he said. “Once, the water was wide, and so deep, that one had to find places to cross. Then, the white men build a ...” He made a motion with his hands.
“Dam,” Falcon said, supplying the word.
“Yes, a dam. The white men build the dam to steal the water, and now we have but a small amount. Our horses and our cattle die of thirst. And sometimes, if we go long without rain, there is no water in the stream at all, and even our people die of thirst.”
“Keytano, I must tell you that if you take up the path of war, this time the white man will not stop. His soldiers will kill all of you, not just the warriors, but the women and children as well. Your numbers are small now. When the war is finished, there will be no Apache left.”
“Yes,” Keytano said again. “I know that this is also true.”
“So, what is going to happen?” Falcon asked. “Are you going on the path of war?”
“I think there is a way to not have war, if you will help.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Falcon replied. “What do you want?”
“We want you to find the men who killed Yaakos Gan and kill them,” Keytano said.
Falcon smiled, and nodded. “That I will do with pleasure,” he said.
The medicine man said something and Keytano nodded.
“There is something else,” Keytano said.
“Something else?”
“Yes,” Keytano said. “When you kill these men, we want you to take their scalps and bring them to us so that we may see that you have done as you said.”
Falcon took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh. He shook his head.
“Keytano, I will find them and kill them, but I will not scalp them.”
“You must, for it is the only way the council will know that you have done as you promised. And only if the council knows that the evil ones are dead, will I be able to keep the village from following Chetopa on the path of war.”
“I’m sorry,” Falcon said, “but scalping isn’t something I do.”
“Did you not take the scalp and gouge out the eyes of many of our young warriors during your war with Naiche?” Keytano asked.
Falcon was caught and he knew it. He had done that very thing, in part out of anger, and in part to send a message to the Indians: that he was someone to fear.
Sighing, Falcon nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “You speak the truth. I did scalp your people.”
“You took the scalps of our people, but you will not take the scalps of these evil men? Are these evil ones not as evil as the Apache you killed?”
“Keytano, the Apache I killed were not evil,” Falcon said. “They were just warriors fighting me.”
“Is Fargo Ford evil?”
“Yes.”
“Then, why will you scalp my people who are not evil, but you will not scalp the white men who are evil?”
Suddenly, and inexplicably, Falcon laughed.
“Why do you laugh?” Keytano asked.
“Keytano, you should be a lawyer,” Falcon said. “I believe you could get a light sentence for ole Satan himself. All right, you win. I will chase Fargo Ford and his group down, and I will kill them. And I will bring you their scalps to prove that I have.”
Keytano smiled. “That is good,” he said. “Come, we will tell the council, then you will be free to go.”
Falcon chuckled again. “Free to go, huh? Yes, I figured it was sort of like that ... that I would not be able to leave until you gave me permission.”
Falcon followed Keytano back to the council fire. Most of the Indians were still there, though by now as many were standing as were sitting. Chetopa was with a group of five or six rather fierce-looking young men. The expression on his face was one of anger and hate and, regardless of what Keytano promised, or what Falcon did, Falcon knew that he was going to have to deal with Chetopa. If not now, someday.
“Hear these words,” Keytano said, addressing his assembled people in English. “I have spoken with Dlo Binanta, and he has said that he will find the evil ones and he will kill them.”
“And he will bring the scalps back as proof?” Chetopa asked.
“Yes, he has said that he will do this,” Keytano replied.
“Let the council hear him say this in his own words,” Chetopa demanded.
“Is the word of your chief not good enough for you?” Falcon asked Chetopa.
“It is not the word of Keytano that I question,” Chetopa said. “It is the word of Dlo Binanta, killer of Apache. I will not believe you unless I hear the words you speak.”
“Keytano has told you of the words that I spoke,” Falcon said. “You do not wish to believe me and I think you would not do so no matter what I said.”
“We will not speak of this again!” Keytano said, angrily. “I have told you what Dlo Binanta said. Do you say that I am lying?”
“I do not say that you are lying,” Chetopa said, backing down.
Yes, sir, Mr. Chetopa, Falcon thought. The day is going to come when I am going to have to kill you. Or you me.
Keytano said something in his own language, then, looking at Falcon, pointed to the outer edge of the circle.
“You are free to leave,” he said. “Go now, find the evil ones. Kill them as you have said, then bring their scalps back so that we may all see.”
Standing just outside the edge of the circle, Falcon saw a young Indian boy holding the two horses he had come in with. His horse was already saddled.
Falcon walked to his horse and swung into the saddle. Then the boy handed him the reins of the second horse. Falcon shook his head, then looked at Keytano.