Blackstone said, “What possible purpose—”
“There is only one purpose now, Blackstone.”
Prisoners would be tortured for days. Jumping Badger would make certain of it. He would force-feed his victims to give them the strength to last. Only one course of action remained: They had to teach the cowardly Walksalongs the meaning of courage.
Lamedeer divided his arrows, keeping two, handing three to Blackstone.
Blackstone stared at them. A curious calm had settled over him. “Yes,” he said. “You are right. At least this way, we …” The words faded. He slipped the arrows into his quiver, and in a sudden powerful voice, called, “Let us show them how Paint Rock warriors die! Come forward!”
Young Longhorn came first, shaking badly. Sorrel and Sapling flanked her. Willow hobbled to stand behind her, his bandaged leg leaking blood down his hide pants. The men towered over Longhorn, making her appear unnaturally short and as thin as a newly sprouted reed.
Blackstone moved closer to Lamedeer, whispering, “What of the wounded? Do you wish me—”
“No,” Lamedeer answered. “That is my responsibility.”
Blackstone stood for a long moment looking into Lamedeer’s eyes, then he backed away, nodded, and shrieked a blood-chilling war cry. He charged from the cave with his warriors on his heels. Dust flew up behind them as they stormed down the slope.
A cry of disbelief rose from the Walksalongs. They cursed, hastily nocking their bows. Several leaped up to pursue.
Lamedeer pulled his knife from his belt and ran for the back of the cave where Yarrow lay. The wounded man stared at him with huge eyes.
“Hurry,” Yarrow said. “Please … hurry.”
Lamedeer searched that brave young face, then slit Yarrow’s throat, quickly, cleanly.
Walking Teal’s hoarse scream rang in the narrow confines of the cave: “What have you done?” The youth lunged for his brother, sobbing as Yarrow’s head lolled to the side.
Lamedeer ran for Kingfisher. The man stared unblinking at the stone ceiling. Dust and bits of old leaves covered his wide dead eyes. Lamedeer touched his friend gently, then sprang to his feet.
“Crowfire? Walking Teal?” He gave the youths the clenched-fist sign. “Follow me!”
Lamedeer sprinted out of the cave into the blinding morning light. Westward, only Blackstone remained on his feet. At least twenty warriors chased him. Lamedeer ran eastward.
Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Crowfire! Run to my left. Walking Teal, stay close behind me!”
Lamedeer pounded up the deertrail through the maze of wind-smoothed boulders. Brush and lichen grew in the cracks, giving them a mottled appearance. Excited war cries rent the air. Lamedeer ran faster. Rounding a curve in the trail, he glanced back, and stumbled. “Walking Teal! Where—”
Crowfire yelled, “He would not leave his dead brother! I left him sitting on the floor of the cave beside Yarrow!”
Sickness welled in Lamedeer’s throat. He bounded ahead. Had he known in advance, he would have spared Walking Teal the horrifying consequences of his decision. Instead, the youth would face his torturers alone.
“Run, cowards! Run!” Jumping Badger shouted, and laughed shrilly.
As the deertrail climbed higher, boulders thrust up on the south side. The cliff rose on the north. Lamedeer ordered, “Crowfire, get in front of me!”
The youth raced ahead, his legs pumping.
Arrows clattered on the rimrock. Lamedeer did not waste time turning to shoot at his pursuers, he had to shield Crowfire’s back.
“Hurry, Crowfire. Run hard!” Lamedeer’s feet beat the trail behind the boy, forcing Crowfire to run as fast as he could.
One hundred hands away, the trail climbed onto the top of the cliff. It would be a miracle if Crowfire made it, and even more a miracle if he managed to reach Silver Sparrow … but, by the ancestors, Lamedeer would give him that chance.
A hoarse cry wavered. “Help! Someone? Lamedeer, help me!”
Crowfire’s pace faltered, and Lamedeer shouted, “Do not turn around! Walking Teal chose his death himself! You must not let the same happen to you! Run, boy! Run!”
Crowfire sprinted the last distance in less than fifteen heartbeats, and scrambled over the rimrock.
Elation seared Lamedeer’s veins.
He whirled, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and shot the first man on the trail. Six others, including Jumping Badger, dove for cover in the boulders.
“Jumping Badger!” Lamedeer cried, trying to gain more time. “You are a cursed man! Do you hear me? Four nights ago, old Silver Sparrow came to see me. He told me you would attack Paint Rock Village and steal the False Face Child, and he said it would cost you your souls! He cursed you! Do you hear? Silver Sparrow said your Power would drain away until you are like a camp dog, kicked by everyone! When you can no longer defend yourself, the False Face Child will kill you. If you don’t release him now, he will be your death!”