Anah also felt alone as he never had when he was younger.
Over the previous twelve months, with the loss of so many companions and then Little Raven, his past and the map it provided had been torn away from him. With the deaths of so many of his children, it was as if his horizon had disintegrated, as well.
He thought of this as he beat his syncopated rhythm against the side of the canoe. He knew that each warrior in the canoe carried the same burden. He would regain all of the hope for future bounty that rightfully belonged to them and snatch happiness back from the white intruders who had stolen it so viciously.
He would cleanse away the shame.
Anah had never been afraid of Death because it was always around him from the time he was a small child. Instead, he played with it as if it were a curious friend that hid behind every living thing and showed itself when he called it forth, when Anah cut into the flesh hard and deep enough.
Over the years, he had killed enough men, women, and children to know well the measure of another human’s proximity to death.
And, as he came to understand that his special friendship with Death made him an exception to all other men — accepting that he had been given a privilege that had to be revered and honored, he had attempted to visit Death several times on his own, off away from where there was movement or noise, deep in the forest, away from the interference of other spirits. Knowing he could only really speak with Death if he offered himself, he beckoned to it with his own blood and starvation. It always ended with him alone again, the conversation incomplete.
But each time he understood more. On a few traumatic occasions, he had been impulsively driven there, as when he had received Little Raven’s wrecked body and when he beheld the charred bodies of his children in the smoking remains of his burned-out village.
In his grief, he had run as fast as he could into the forest hoping to catch Death, knowing that in so doing, he might look one more time at the spirits of his loved ones. But he was never fast enough.
As a complement to his companionship with Death, in a lesson he learned on many journeys with Little Raven, he always had the comfort of others like him who understood. The ferocity of their every action was a language that endured and resonated universally with all creatures.
All who followed him understood this. By their clan’s actions, they defined and marked out their close proximity to Death and their status as its favorite companion. His actions in a fight, and those of the few who were privileged to learn from him, were direct, immediate, and instinctively centered on an opponent’s most vulnerable weakness.
He knew his foes would invariably expose it by their protective actions. And then Anah would immediately counter with vicious decisiveness. Anyone who hesitated to think, aim, or react was simply swept away. The deliberating actions of the whites, in particular, were cumbersome compared to his own instinctive tactics, so none of his lumbering opponents ever survived. Such was the ability of Anah, who lived with Death as an ally.
They reached Isaac and Emmy’s beach as the moon reached its zenith, darting in and out from a cobweb of blue-black clouds. They pulled the canoe far up the beach because the tide was coming in and left Klixuatan to guard it and protect their passage away from this tyee’s magic. Each man draped himself with an otter skin nooksack and, carrying their rifles, clubs, and knives, moved up the beach to the pathway that Klixuatan had indicated led the way to the Isaac and Emmy’s home. It took ten minutes to traverse the pathway onto the plateau.
The Evers’ home was first, prominently perched looking over the entire plain from a short, cresting, north-facing hillock. In the moonlight, intermittently revealing the harvest stubble of the manicured land, several cabins were visible in the distance, but no lantern light or fires.
As they drew closer, a dog began to bark from behind a white picket fence. Closer still, and then a light came on inside the house, and a tall, powerfully built man came out onto the porch.
Anah knew it was the tyee he had come to kill.
Chapter Fifteen
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Isaac and Anah
When they saw each other at that moment, eyes locked in the pale moonlight, each man knew the world had stopped around them to watch a death dance. No sound, no movement, just the focus of equals carried quietly over several heartbeats.
Anah knew in that instant, because of an aura of vibrant life surrounding his opponent and this homestead, that he was now closer to Death than he ever had been before. It would come rushing forward eagerly, he knew, and take one or both of them.
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Isaac knew he was staring into the face of his own personal exterminating angel, and from that realization, he thought of protecting his family. Before he could call out a warning, the tall, naked savage moved first, leaping over the picket fence, clubbing Rowdy aside, then bounding up the steps to the long porch, aiming with his ball club for a finishing blow to Isaac’s left temple.
Isaac, watching his attacker’s fierce eyes, saw the blow coming and ducked away.
From a stooped position, he thrust his heavy walking stick’s butt with an upward blow into the man’s sternum, knocking him off balance. As the attacker staggered back, Isaac followed with a
