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“Fire Thunder, why must my true mother be forced to live in such total isolation so far from me, her only family?” she blurted out. “Could she come and live on your mountain, where I could go and see her more often, than if she should stay where she lives now? And, when we have children, we could share them with her.” Her eyes pleaded. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice trembling in her anxiety.
Fire Thunder thought for a while, then gave Kaylene a soft smile. “Yes, we can work that out,” he said. “We will go soon and tell her the news. We will give her the opportunity to be a part of our lives, if she wishes to be.”
“Oh, she will,” Kaylene said, sighing contentedly. “I just know that she will.”
“But still, you can only talk with her from a distance,” Fire Thunder said. “Will that be enough?”
“Yes, oh, yes,” Kaylene said, nodding. “You are so kind, Fire Thunder. So sweet, so caring. How am I so lucky to have met you?”
“I am the lucky one,” Fire Thunder said, again smiling.
They rode onward until they reached the others they had left behind at the campsite.
Then everyone rode together back toward Fire Thunder’s village.
They traveled until evening came, but they still went on. They crossed the Rio Grande, rode past the outskirts of San Carlos, then proceede
d up the mountainside.
Halfway up the mountain, Fire Thunder’s insides turned cold and he drew his horse’s reins tight and stopped. His eyes could not leave the horrendous sight of Black Hair as he hung from a tree in the moonlight, a rope tied securely around his neck. His head lay limply to one side.
Kaylene’s eyes followed Fire Thunder’s.
She felt faint when she saw Black Hair’s body swaying in the gentle night breeze, his horse grazing close by, as though it was dutifully waiting for him.
The other warriors circled around, staring, low chants beginning from the depths of their throats in plaintive, sad wails.
Kaylene gave Anna a quick glance, who had turned her eyes from the grisly sight.
Fire Thunder rode over to Black Hair. He waited for two warriors to stand beneath the body and reach up and take hold of its legs.
Then Fire Thunder slipped a knife from the sheath at his left side and cut the rope in half, loosing Black Hair.
Black Hair’s body fell clumsily downward. The two warriors caught him, then lay him on the ground and stood over him.
Fire Thunder dismounted.
Kaylene followed his lead and hurried to his side as he went and stood over his departed friend.
“How do you think this happened?” Kaylene asked softly, turning her eyes away from Black Hair.
“His appearance tells me that he has been dead for some time,” Fire Thunder said. “I am remembering now how sullen Black Hair was after his daughter humiliated him by her shameful behavior that last time in front of the whole village.”
“You . . . think . . . he killed himself?” Kaylene asked, gazing up at Fire Thunder, seeing his anguish.
Fire Thunder held his face in his hands. “No,” he said, his voice choking. “I will not believe that he killed himself. The Kickapoo think suicide an unforgivable, mortal sin.”
He flung his hands from his face and looked heavenward. “Who could have done this thing?” he cried. “This man. This brave warrior! He was so much to me! He was my closest friend, to whom I gave the right hand of my heart!”
He looked down at Black Hair again. “There are many possibilities,” he growled out between clenched teeth. “The Texas ranchers. They could have discovered that we Kickapoo are responsible for the recent thefts of their cattle, not the Comanche. They could have come across Black Hair as he traveled alone. As a mark of vengeance against our whole tribe, they could have killed Black Hair, one of our most valiant warriors.”
He looked over his shoulder, in the direction of San Carlos. “It might have been some of General Rocendo’s soldiers,” he hissed out. “The general might have ordered this done, making Black Hair pay for Black Hair’s daughter’s sin of consorting with his son Pedro, and for Running Fawn being responsible for his son being so ill from having made the tattoo on his leg.”
He turned glowering eyes toward Anna. “Or it could have been carnival people from John Shelton’s troupe who came and avenged John Shelton’s death,” he said sullenly.
“No, it surely wasn’t them,” Kaylene cried, knowing the importance of keeping Fire Thunder and his people from resenting Anna for any reason. “His men did not care for him that much. They only tolerated him because they had no choice. They were raised to know only one thing—carnival life. And don’t you remember? Mother gave the carnival to them. They would be too happy for that good fortune, to come and kill one of your men. They have cause to thank you, not resent you.”
“I will never know who is truly responsible,” Fire Thunder said, his voice breaking.
