Revenge of Eagles

you are scared. Are you scared of me?”

“Si, Senor,” the woman said.

“What is your name?”

“Carmelita.”

Fargo looked at the other one.

“Rosita.”

“Well, Carmelita, Rosita, will this make you less scared?” Fargo asked. He handed each of them a twenty-dollar bill.

“Senor! So much money? Why?” Carmelita asked.

“Don’t you want it?”

“Si, but what must we do?” Carmelita asked.

“You got a room here?”

“Si.”

Fargo smiled broadly. “Well, when we get to your room, I’m sure we can figure out something to do. I figure between the two of you, you can make me’n my friends just real happy.”

“This one too?” Rosita asked, looking at Ponci. The expression on Ponci’s face was devoid of any interest, or even awareness of what was going on around him. “I do not think he looks like a man who wants a woman.”

“I think you are right,” Fargo said as he stared at Ponci. Even though they were now talking about him by name, Ponci continued to stare straight ahead, obviously not following the conversation. “Nah, don’t worry about him. You don’t have to mess with him,” Fargo said.

“Jesus, Fargo, look at ole Ponci,” Casey said. “The son of a bitch looks like hell.”

“What is wrong with your friend?” Carmelita asked. “Why does he look so?”

“Oh, never mind him. He is dying,” Fargo said flatly.

“Madre de Dios,” Carmelita said, and she and Rosita crossed themselves.

The food was brought to the table then, and all conversation halted as the men dug into the beans and tortillas.

Ponci did not eat; nor did he give any indication that he even knew there was food on the table.

CHAPTER 11

The fire in the middle of the village, fed by mesquite wood, burned brightly. Escaping sparks rode the rising column of heat high into the night sky, mixing their golden glow with the soft blue wink of the stars.

The mourning period was over, and true to Keytano’s referring to Falcon as a “guest,” he was invited into Keytano’s wickiup and treated well by Keytano’s wife, who provided him with food and drink. Even so, he still had the distinct impression that he would not be able to leave the village without Keytano’s approval.

Falcon didn’t know how much longer he would be required to stay, but he decided that he would remain a while longer just to see what was going to happen. If things took a turn for the worse, he would leave, with or without Keytano’s permission.

“Come,” Keytano said right after Falcon finished eating the rather large and surprisingly good meal he had been served. “The council meets now.”

Falcon nodded, then stood up and followed Keytano from the wickiup.

The warriors were sitting in concentric circles around the fire, with the oldest, and those who had established themselves as leaders, in the first circle. As the circles grew more distant from the fire, their occupants were younger and held positions of less importance in the social structure of the village. The women were in the outermost circles.

Beyond the last circle the children, who were too young even to sit in the last circle, played in the night, watched over by a few of the older women of the village.

Falcon, by Keytano’s personal invitation, was sitting beside him in the inner circle. There were a few sentences passed back and forth between Keytano and Chetopa, but as they were spoken in Apache, Falcon had no idea what they were saying. Then Keytano held up his hand to call for quiet.

“Because Dlo Binanta is among us, we will speak only in English,” he said. He turned to Falcon. “Dlo Binanta, tell us what you know of my daughter.”

“I will tell of Yaakos Gan,” Falcon said.

Using Cloud Dancer’s Indian name had the impact Falcon had hoped for, because several of the Indians repeated her name, then nodded in approval.

“I am pleased that you knew my daughter by her name,” Keytano said.

“I am pleased to have met and known your daughter,” Falcon said. “As I told you, I met her on the stagecoach and we knew each other only a short time. But the desert flower that lives for but one night differs not in heart from the mighty saguaro that lives for five hundred years. So too is the time I spent with your daughter, for I learned in that short time that she was a very smart, and very brave, young woman. You and the entire village should be very proud of her, and you are rightly grieved ... as am I ... that such an evil thing was done to her.”

“Who did this evil?” Keytano asked.

“The leader of the evil ones is a man named Fargo Ford.”