The first man shrieked a war cry and dashed for the cave.
“Blacksto—”
Before Lamedeer had finished the name, his friend let fly. The arrow took the warrior in the stomach. The enemy staggered, clawing at the protruding shaft before he screamed and fell.
An eerie, horrifying sound erupted in the cave, like a dying rabbit’s squeal. Lamedeer killed the next warrior climbing the slope. Two more rushed them, howling like wild dogs, their eyes blazing.
Out of arrows, Lamedeer fell to his knees to search the floor … and landed beside Kingfisher. He lay curled on his side. The squealing came from his throat. Without thinking, Lamedeer started to reach out, to comfort his friend, but quickly grabbed the last arrow from Kingfisher’s quiver, and lunged to his feet.
Blackstone screamed, “He’s coming in!” as he stumbled backward, almost knocking Lamedeer over. The enemy warrior burst into the cave with a deerbone stiletto in his hand, and leaped for Blackstone.
Lamedeer grabbed the enemy’s shoulders from behind, pulling him off, while Blackstone took the man’s weapon, and plunged it into his chest and belly. When he went limp, Lamedeer thrust the enemy warrior aside, nocked his bow with Kingfisher’s arrow, and spun … .
His drawn bow quivered as his eyes examined the slope.
The Walksalongs had taken cover. Arrow points gleamed in the sunlight, appearing strangely disconnected from the jeering faces near the boulders. In the foreground, men writhed in a haze of sunlit dust, some twisting round and round, like dying serpents, others jerking and yipping in the voices of clubbed dogs.
As understanding tingled through him, Lamedeer’s gaze traced the outline of the cave entrance. Blessed gods, Jumping Badger planned this. He lured us into this valley knowing I had only one refuge. Just now, he sacrificed a few warriors to get the rest into position … .
Jumping Badger’s deep-throated laughter climbed the slope. Lamedeer watched his enemy leap the creek, a grin splitting his handsome face as he trotted to join his forces.
The fire of battle, the rage to survive, all drained from Lamedeer’s heart like water from a broken pot. He lifted a trembling hand to brush hair from his eyes.
“Why aren’t they shooting?” Crowfire quavered. His deeply set eyes shone with hope. “Did they leave? Have they had enough?”
“Yes!” Young Walking Teal shouted. “That’s it! We’ve beaten them!”
For several heartbeats stunned silence filled the cave.
Then Blackstone chuckled dryly, and several other warriors laughed. A nervous sound, like ancient bones rattling in the wind.
Soft pearlescent sunlight streamed into the cave, glinting in the pools of blood on the floor. Shapes within them shifted, bright and indistinct.
“Count your arrows,” Lamedeer ordered. “How many have we left?”
Blackstone’s mouth fell open. “You can’t believe that even with arrows we—”
“I have one,” Lamedeer interrupted. “Who else?”
“Lamedeer!” Blackstone shouted. “We have three choices: We can slit our own throats while we have the strength; wait until desperation sends us running into Jumping Badger’s arms for a sip of water; or, when we become too weak to resist, the Walksalongs will simply walk up and carry us down to the torture rituals. Fighting is pointless!”
Lamedeer didn’t even look at his friend. He repeated, “Who else has arrows?”
“I have two,” Sorrel said, and lifted them for Lamedeer to see.
Longhorn, who had just become a woman last moon, called, “I found two unbroken ones on the floor!”
“Bring them forward.”
He gave each person a confident nod as they placed the arrows in his palm.
Blackstone gaped. “What madness is this? We’re beaten, Lamedeer. If we were wise we would take out our knives and end this before Jumping Badger makes sport of—”
“You’re beaten. Not I.”
Smiles curled the lips of the Paint Rock survivors.
Voices murmured, “Lamedeer has a plan … won’t let us die … kill them yet …”
Crowfire gazed at Lamedeer as though he knew more than Falling Woman herself. “What shall we do, Lamedeer? Rush them?”
When Lamedeer answered, “Yes, Crowfire. That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Blackstone swung around as if he’d been slapped.
“What?”
“Blackstone, I want you to take Sapling, Willow, Sorrel, and …” He searched the cave. “And Longhorn. The five of you will go first. Head west. Run hard. Draw them away if you can. I will give you ten heartbeats, then I will take Walking Teal and Crowfire eastward, up the deertrail through the boulders. I will cover both youths for as long as I can. Maybe, if Falling Woman smiles upon us, one will make it to the top of the cliff.”