the LEGEND of She-Cat

Chapter Twenty Three

I dreamed of him. Every night Dun-Can had come to me, never close enough to touch, never speaking a word, but always there, watching from a distance. Every morning I would wake trembling with sadness, reminding myself that I had to make my own way now. This morning, my eyes opened to find the coyote staring from less than ten feet away, intense yellow eyes fixed to me. It was a younger predator, more curious than aggressive, and now and then I'd tossed it a few bits of cooked rabbit or bird. Having it around made my claim of being a coyote spirit more credible, as long as we were never seen together.

"If I continue to provide for you," I told it softly, "you will never become a fine hunter."

After a moment the coyote rose and turning, vanished from the den. I had made the bigger, back section home of sorts, leaving the front part available to the predator. We seemed to share it peaceably, for now. Without rising, I shifted my gaze to the straw dolls. The two representing the dead Sotaeo'o warriors were displayed outside the den, and to them, I had added one for Itza-chu, and one for Neeheeoeewootis. Should anyone come looking for me, the dolls would act as a warning for them to tread carefully.

Rubbing a hand across my eyes, I sat up, feeling empty and tired. It was hard, living each day in fear, worried that I would be caught unprepared, trapped. Like a wild animal, I made each movement constantly alert, trying to be aware of my surroundings, and it was exhausting. Climbing from the back entry, I took a careful look around before moving into the open. My routine varied, and today I meant to bathe before eating.

I had found a stream of cool water half a days' ride from the den, a place where the water swirled into a small, clear pool surrounded by trees. There were fish, edible roots, bulbs, tubers, birds, and rabbits available to eat. Catching the mare, I swung onto her back and headed off, smiling as I heard the yapping cry of my wild companion from the tall grass.

The sun felt good on my head and shoulders, but the faintest touch of cool air in the breeze warned me that winter was coming. So far I had avoided capture, but how was I to survive in the deep, cold snow when I did not hunt? That was a concern that crept into my mind more persistently each day.

At the stream I slid from the mare and let her roam loose, looking around as I stripped from my clothing. Although fairly certain I was alone, never did I take that for granted. The water was cooler today, and I shivered a little as I bathed, rubbing my skin vigorously before crushing soaproot with a rock and rubbing the lather into my hair. It was not until I rinsed and stepped from the water that I saw him.

He sat atop a fine brown and white pony, the dappled shade of the trees blending him into the landscape. His dark eyes were serious, his face framed by long, smooth locks of ebony hair. Eagle feathers were firmly tied at his scalp, giving him an immediate air of authority and strength. Handsome, muscular, every inch of him was the man I had known he would become. Mouth dry, I stared a long moment but neither of us moved or spoke. Carefully reaching for my skirt and blouse, I dressed under his watchful gaze. Only when I had finished and began walking toward the mare, did he speak.

"Never have I seen a woman here before."

"Why should you have seen me?" My voice shook, old memories stirred to life. "This is not the land of your people."

"I return home from a vision quest." He slipped gracefully from his horse, coming nearer. "You are familiar to me."

It became hard to swallow, my heart drumming almost painfully against my ribs. Despite how long it had been, I knew him. Equally obvious, he began to know me. His words said he felt it, his expression turning disbelievingly pensive.

"I must have strayed into a dream, or another vision, for I see before me a woman lost many long years ago. Brave Song..."

Shivering, I took a step back as he came closer, thrusting my hand out.