She didn't move, although she didn't know if it was courage or pure
terror that kept her still. She e0uld see Jon and Jamie, still mounted,
as they watched the thundering horses and their riders. Neither reached
for a weapon.
It would be suicide, she thought. They were drastically outnumbered.
The Indians raced by them. The whoops and the cries were suddenly
stilled, and there was silence. Only the dust remained to settle.
The Comanche were motionless again, surrounding the wagon and Jamie and
Jon.
As Tess watched, Jamie lifted his hand again. One of the Indians, his
ink-black hair falling down the length of his naked back, wearing a band
with a single dark feather, urged his mount closer. He walked his horse
straight over to Jamie. Then he reached out his hand, and Jamie clasped
it.
The Indian began to speak. Tess didn't recognize a word, but Jamie and
Jon paid rapt attention.
Then Jamie responded in the Indian's own tongue, easily, effortlessly.
Jon spoke, too, then the Comanche again.
'See,' Dolly whispered.
'It was a show. It was a performance. There never was any danger.'
Tess exhaled silently. One question had been answered for her. She'd
seen something like this before, but there had been differences. She'd
seen the riders--but with saddled horses, in wigs and feathers and
paint. They hadn't ridden like these Comanche. And they hadn't let out
the terrible eries.
They had been absolutely mute, carrying out their silent executions.
But she had a right to be afraid of this show. 'What's going on?' she
asked Dolly.
'How should I know, dear? I don't speak that heathen gibberishl' Tess
stiffened, realizing that Jamie was gesturing to her. The Indian he was
talking to urged his pony toward her, followed closely by Jamie. Reining
to a halt in front of her, the Comanche stared at her. He started to
speak.
Tess swallowed.
He was lean, wiry, menacing in his paint, and yet when he spoke he
smiled, and his teeth were good and strong, and the smile gave some
strange appeal to his face. Tess smiled in return.
'What did he say?' she asked Jamie, between bet teeth.
'He said that he did not kill your uncle.'
'Tell him I know that.'
Jamie spoke, then the chief broke into a barrage of words again.
Lost, Tess kept nodding and smiling.
'What did he say now?'
'Oh. Well, I told him we were traveling to Wiltshire, and that I was
going to try to prove that the white man had been guilty. If you made it
worth my while, that is. The chief is suggesting that you make it worth
my while. He thinks that you should bargain with me.'
'Oh!' Tess gasped furiously. As she frowned, the Comanche chief frowned,
too.
