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ade the secret pact with Running Fawn seem even somewhat logical. It was not her place to interfere in these people’s lives. Until only a short while ago even, she had been a captive whose word meant nothing to anyone.
To get her mind off these worries, Kaylene looked around her, at those who were accompanying Fire Thunder down the mountainside to San Carlos. Pedro’s three Mexican friends were on burros at the head of the procession, their heads hanging.
Several warriors rode just behind them, their rifles in their gunboots, their holstered pistols at their hips.
Another warrior held the reins of the wagon in which Kaylene traveled.
Dressed in a buckskin jacket and leggings that fit him snugly, Fire Thunder rode to the left of the wagon, giving Pedro occasional worried glances.
Yes, Kaylene thought to herself, it was very obvious how concerned Fire Thunder was over the welfare of this young man. If Pedro died . . . ?
When Fire Thunder cast Kaylene a glance, she smiled at him. “I’m almost certain Pedro is· going to be all right,” she offered as some encouragement to him. “His brow isn’t as hot and he’s resting better now.”
“Foolish, foolish Running Fawn,” Fire Thunder growled out between clenched teeth. “How could it have happened that she could be this wild hearted? Her mother was as tame as a lamb. She was sweet. She was considerate. Running Fawn seems driven by demons!”
“Yes, and that is so sad,” Kaylene murmured. “Otherwise, she is so kind; so generous.”
“Yes, I know there is much good in Running Fawn,” Fire Thunder said, nodding. “But the bad too often outweighs the good.”
He turned his eyes from her and watched the trail ahead of him again.
Kaylene wanted to ask him again what his plans were for Running Fawn, but she knew, by the way that he had become so quiet, that he did not wish to speak of it any further at this time. His eyes were on the city that was now in view at the foot of the mountain, spread out along the valley, its villas snuggled closely together at the edge.
Kaylene’s heartbeat quickened as she looked anxiously past the city to the far side, where she remembered the carnival tents had been set up. Oh, but how memories flooded her, of her performance with Midnight, and the applause and cheers of those who watched.
That was the wonderful side of her memory.
The black side was when she had discovered that Little Sparrow had been abducted while the carnival had been set up in San Carlos.
And then the horrifying moment when she had seen Little Sparrow in the cage when they had pitched their tents again after leaving San Carlos behind.
How could her father have done that to the innocent child? she despaired again to herself, as she had done so many countless times before since Little Sparrow’s abduction. How could he have done so much evil against so many?
Little Sparrow had begged to come with them today. But not only had Kaylene’s memories of seeing Little Sparrow in the cage been powerful, so had Fire Thunder’s. He had adamantly told Little Sparrow that she had to stay behind this time. It would be a while before he would let her go anywhere. With many warriors surrounding and protecting the Kickapoo village, which was now necessary since the white man’s recent attack, Little Sparrow’s safety was secured.
Dawnmarie and White Wolf had offered to stay with her. Kaylene had also left Midnight behind for safekeeping.
And now Kaylene was filled with curiosity as to where the carnival might be. Surely her father had seen that it was moved elsewhere before launching his attack on the Kickapoo village. He would not want the Kickapoo to find them so easily in case he left survivors.
Therefore, Kaylene herself knew not where to find the woman she needed to question about her birthright.
But this was not the time to think about things concerning herself. Fire Thunder’s plight was of the utmost importance.
She stiffened as they entered the outskirts of San Carlos. She looked guardedly around her as people stopped and stared at the three young Mexican men who rode slowly down the dirt road on burros, their heads still hanging, and then at Pedro as he still lay asleep in the wagon, his head on Kaylene’s lap.
To avoid any eye contact with any of the Mexican people, Kaylene looked straight ahead. She grew tense when she saw the protective walls ahead that circled the land and villa owned by General Rocendo. Well-armed vaqueros, guards, stood at the wide, closed gate.
Kaylene watched Fire Thunder as he nudged his horse with his knees and rode on ahead and stopped a few yards from the guards.
“Capitan Fire Thunder, what has happened?” one of the guards asked. His gaze moved slowly from one of the Mexicans to the other. Then he strained his neck to look into the wagon.
“I must see General Rocendo,” Fire Thunder said thickly. He gestured toward the young men whose eyes were wide with fright. “As you can see, I have escorted these young men to San Carlos.” He looked over his shoulder and frowned as he stared at Pedro. “Also, Pedro, the general’s son.”
“Is Pedro injured?” one of the guards asked, walking quickly past Fire Thunder, to gaze in concern at Pedro. He gasped when he saw Pedro’s leg.
Then his gaze moved slowly up, to look at Kaylene. “What is the meaning of this?” he hissed out. “And do I not know you, señorita? Did I not see you when the carnival people were here? Did you not ride a panther?”
“Yes, that was me,” Kaylene said, scarcely breathing when the other guard came and looked in horror at Pedro, then looked with recognition at her.
