Zach liked it better when he could hear their pursuers. He slowed so they weren’t making as much noise.
Lou accidentally put all her weight on her hurt leg. Torment racked her. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from crying out and was grateful when Zach stopped and hunkered. She squatted beside him, her hands on the ground for support.
“I think we lost them,” Zach whispered. Now all they had to do was make it down the mountain to their cabin.
“I’ve hardly ever been so scared,” Lou confessed.
“You hide it well.”
“If they ever get us to their village—”
“They won’t.” Zach paused. “Your leg is worse, isn’t it?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I’ll keep up.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Shhhh.”
“If I have to I can carry you.”
Lou touched his cheek. “You wonderful idiot. How far do you reckon we’d get?”
“I’ll have you climb on my back. We’ll go slow. By morning we’ll be down near the lake.”
Suddenly a rabbit streaked by.
Zach shifted in the direction it came from, wondering what had spooked it. The answer was a who, not a what. He started to rise, but thought better of it. He would be dead before he took a step.
An arrow was centered on his chest.
Chapter Sixteen
Skin Shredder was beside himself. The war party had been his idea. He organized it. He led it. If it was successful, if he brought back captives, his people would hold him in high esteem. But he must return with all the warriors who went with him on the raid. Lose even one, and his people would say the raid was bad medicine. They would hold him to blame and whisper behind his back that he was a poor leader.
The Tunkua had never been numerous. At their highest they numbered barely three hundred. That was before war with a much stronger tribe cost them many lives and forced them to leave the land they had called their own since they were formed from the clay of the earth. Now the Tunkua numbered one hundred and sixty-seven. So many men had been lost in the war and on the long trek north that for every warrior there were three women. The loss of a single man was a cause for grief and dismay.
Bone Cracker was dying. His throat had been crushed by the half-breed, and he lay gasping and gurgling and convulsing.
“He was my friend,” Star Dancer said sadly.
Skin Shredder glared at the captives and fingered his knife. Both were bound hand and foot and would stay that way until they reached the village.
“We should kill him here,” Star Dancer said.
“You would deprive our people of his heart?” Skin Shredder snapped.
It would be worse than losing a warrior. He would be held in low regard by one and all. No one would ask his opinion in councils or want to go on a raid with him.
“No,” Star Dancer reluctantly replied.
Bone Cracker arched his back. His mouth gaped wide and his tongue protruded, and with a final convulsion he gave up his spirit. A long exhale, and he was still.
Skin Shredder stepped over to the breed and kicked in the ribs him as hard as he could.
“Leave him be!” Lou cried. She had been dreading what the Heart Eaters would do.
Zach bore the punishment stoically. It would be a sign of weakness if he didn’t, and he would be damned if he would give them the satisfaction.
“Here come Eye Gouger and Red Moon,” Splashes Blood said.
The pair had gone after the two horses. They returned with only the black one. “We did not see the black-and-white horse,” Eye Gouger reported, and wagged the bay’s reins. “These were caught in a small tree or we would not have brought back this one.”
Skin Shredder gnashed his teeth, a habit when he was angry. One warrior and one horse; he must not lose any more. He gestured at the captives. “Throw these two over it.” Maliciously, he made it a point to add, “Belly down.”
Lou didn’t resist when warriors took hold of her arms and legs. She guessed what they were about to do and tried to tuck at the waist to cushion the jolt, but they held her too tight. She was jarred to her spine, her stomach a riot of pain. Inadvertently she cried out.
Zach saw red. As the same two warriors bent to pick him up, he slammed his feet against the knee of one while simultaneously rearing up and butting the other in the groin. Both staggered back in pain. Rolling, he kicked the first warrior’s other knee, eliciting a yelp, then swiveled to kick the other.
Skin Shredder couldn’t credit his eyes. The breed was bound hand and foot yet he was about to bring down two formidable Tunkua warriors. Uttering a screech of rage, he pounced. He drove his knees into the breed’s chest, pinning him. Gouging his fingers into the breed’s throat, he drew his knife.
“No!” Lou shouted.
Skin Shredder sneered at her. He pressed the tip to the breed’s neck and a drop of blood bubbled.
“Please, no!” Lou knew he didn’t understand the words, but her expression and the tremble in her voice were enough. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Zach. She just couldn’t.
Zach held still. Lou needed him. He must not provoke them any further—for now.
“Cut his nose off and force him to eat it,” Star Dancer suggested.
Skin Shredder was about to, but he stayed his hand. Maybe it was the thought that his people would enjoy the ceremony more if they got to carve on the prisoner first. Lowering the knife, he barked, “Get him on the horse and we will be on our way.”
Zach’s ribs and chest were on fire. He submitted to being seized and was flung like a sack of flour up and over the bay, behind Lou. It didn’t help his ribs any. His back was to Lou. He tried twisting so he could see her but a warrior poked him with an arrow.
Zach took the hint. They didn’t want him talking to his wife. He waited until they were under way, then bent his head to whisper, “Are you all right?”
“Never better,” Lou said, but she was scared, terribly scared. Not for her or for him but for the seed she hoped to nurture. She wasn’t very far along, so the rough treatment shouldn’t faze her, but it couldn’t be good for her, either.
“I tried. I’m sorry.”
“It’s my fault we were caught again. I slowed you down. I’m the one who should be sorry.” Lou had to stop. Emotion choked her at the thought that were they to die, she must shoulder the blame.
Zach would like to take her in his arms and comfort her. He settled for saying, “You’re the best wife any man ever had.”
“What made you say that?”
“It’s true.”
“You pick the darnedest times to be romantic.”
Despite everything, Zach chuckled. He would be the first to admit he wasn’t as tenderhearted as some men. His pa, for instance, was constantly bringing his ma flowers and giving her gifts.
Skin Shredder heard the half-breed chuckle and turned. It puzzled him greatly, this lightheartedness when they must know they were going to die. These Bear People, even those half and half, were truly strange. He didn’t say anything. Let them whisper if they wanted. Before very long they would never whisper again.
The Outcast thought he was seeing things. The blow to the head had put his head in a whirl. But no, he blinked and the pinto was still there, nostrils wide and lathered with sweat. It had come trotting down the mountain and stopped when it saw him.
The Outcast went up to it. The pinto nuzzled his outstretched hand and rubbed against him. He stroked its neck, scratched behind its ears. “Where have you been? I thought I lost you in the rockslide.”
His parfleche was still tied on. So was the club with the metal spike. Gripping the mane, the Outcast swung on and reined up the mountain.