Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 19

The next morning when Grace emerged from her kuugh’a, she was startled to see everyone packing their belongings onto horses and dogs. She gathered her thoughts and vaguely remembered having come back to the camp with Joe during the night.

She jumped as he came up behind her. “So, you’re finally awake.”

“Uh . . . how’s your arm?”

“Much better, thanks to you last night. Cheveyo taught you well.”

He reached out, as though to smooth her wayward morning hair, but then pulled his hand away, looking embarrassed.

Grace blushed. “It’s nothing. I didn’t have time to learn much. I watched what he did to my arm and just tried it on yours. I . . . I’m glad it’s working.” She gestured toward the village. “What’s going on?”

“We’re moving camp. Those soldiers who attacked us won’t accept defeat. They’ll be back with reinforcements. The Ndeh can’t stay here.”

She shook her head. “That’s so unfair.”

“Well, they’re used to moving. And for them, it’s better to move from a place of such great sorrow.” His eyes met hers, and she was sure his expression mirrored her own. That quiet desperation that said “no matter how many moves you make, you can never run from sorrow. You always carry it with you.” Even if Joe had done something different with his grief than she had done with hers, they both bore the inner scars.

For Grace, easing some of the gut-deep pain meant taking revenge — the way the Ndeh had done yesterday.

The way she planned to do.

Seeing justice done, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Or blood for blood, as Joe had said yesterday. It all meant the same thing to her. The Guiltless Gang needed to pay. And she couldn’t rest until they had.

* * *

The people traveled most of the day in heavy silence, Cheis in the lead. He stopped and examined the ground several times, reaching down to sift the dirt between his fingers. Then he turned in a circle, slowly in each direction. But each time he shook his head, and they moved on. Finally, when the sun was high overhead, he came to a halt.

Trees grew near a stream, and a cliff rose high behind them, offering natural protection. He turned, rubbed the dirt through his fingers, and gestured. This was where they would set up camp. He and a group of men spoke together for a few moments, then they got to work cutting saplings. The women erected the huts. This time Grace worked on her own kuugh’a with Joe’s help.

She was relieved that they could stop walking and rest for a while. She needed to regroup, to gather her strength for what was ahead.

“You’re doing women’s work,” she teased as Joe set up the frame and tied the poles into a dome shape. He didn’t smile.

“Look around. Other men are helping. At times like this, everyone pitches in. So many people have lost family members.”

Grace swallowed the lump in her throat as she realized how many people were missing.

The Ndeh had always been gentle and tender with the children since Grace had arrived, but now they were even more so. Seeing the loving glances, tender pats, and frequent hugs made the gaping hole in Grace’s heart grow wider.

As soon as the kuugh’a was built, Grace dropped her bundle inside and went to find Bullet. He came when she whistled, and she was amazed to see him trotting toward her with hardly a trace of unevenness in his gait.

Grace flung her arms around his neck. “You’re doing better!” She had been afraid yesterday’s battle had crippled him for good. Instead Bullet seemed frisky, almost back to his usual lively self. Cheveyo must have worked his magic on the horse again.