Just beyond him sat Flies Ahead. His face was marked with black paint like the other man, but he was too familiar not to recognize. Maybe it was the expanse of his shoulders and the way he held himself like he was in charge.
He would be chief one day, after all. Or maybe he already was. Had his grandfather died in the three years since she and her sisters had gone to their village looking for Steps Right?
She flicked her gaze around the area once more to look for the other man, the one who’d grabbed her. No sign of him. Maybe he was standing guard in the shadows or had been sent on an errand.
White Horse. Her stomach clutched. Had they gone back to find him? Maybe Flies Ahead had more men, a group strong enough to overpower White Horse.
She pulled harder at her wrists, testing the strength of the cord that bound them. What did White Horse think when he came back and found her and his mother missing?Did he recognize signs of the struggle? He was an excellent tracker, so hopefully he’d find prints from the men.
She struggled to remember what had happened after the brave grabbed her. She’d fought him as he carried her along the ledge. She’d seen that quick glimpse of the other man grabbing Steps Right. Then her captor had started carrying her over the boulders toward the grass. She couldn’t grasp any memories after that. Maybe that was when he’d knocked her unconscious.
The reminder made the ache at the side of her head spring alive again. Maybe he’d knocked her against the rock wall to stop her fighting.
She looked to Steps Right again. Had they done the same to her? Faith’s belly roiled. A woman of her age, already injured ... how badly had they hurt her?
Steps Right’s face didn’t look in pain, only lifeless as she slept.God, please let her wake soon.Maybe she would know how to get out of this. Perhaps she could bargain with Flies Ahead.
The men by the fire were speaking softly in their own language, so Faith couldn’t understand. But she studied them, trying to make out any clues from their body language and tone. They seemed relaxed, as if they had all the time in the world.
Steps Right shifted, drawing Faith’s focus back to her. Her eyes were open, though her head still rested at an angle. Her gaze met Faith’s, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking or feeling. Maybe she was trying to make sense of what was happening, as Faith had when she first woke up.
Slowly, Steps Right lifted her head, easing her shouldersso she could see the men without straining. Could she hear them well enough to understand their words? Probably.
Waiting was hard as she allowed Steps Right time to listen and think. But what else could they do? Speaking to each other would bring Flies Ahead’s attention on them, which couldn’t be good.
Surely White Horse was coming. She just had to make sure the men didn’t hurt Steps Right until then.
NINETEEN
Grant stared at the ground beside the river, searching for any clues in the early morning light that might reveal the path taken by Flies Ahead and his men. The gentle rustle of flowing water belied the urgency in his heart.
He and White Horse had hunted for several hours in the night, moving impossibly slow so they didn’t miss anything in the near-moonless night. He’d slept little, lying on a single blanket and straining for any sound, doing his best not to wonder where Faith was every moment. Was she frightened? Hurt? Did she have a comfortable place to sleep? Most likely not.
“Here.”
He honed his focus to where White Horse pointed to a patch of ground near the water’s edge. “See how dirt is loose? They cover tracks.”
Grant crouched, running his fingers over the subtle indentions in the muddy soil. Then he lifted his gaze to search for the next steps.
At first, he could see nothing similar to this brushed ground. But ... were those leaves turned with the darker sides up? It was hard to tell in the dim light, especially since a night had passed, bringing with it the dampness of morning.
White Horse had moved ahead, and now pointed to another place where the edge of a hoofprint was barely discernible. Grant straightened and stepped quicker to catch up with him as they led their horses. The trail was so faint, he couldn’t be certain this truly was the way Flies Ahead had gone.
But White Horse seemed sure. Or at least he didn’t voice his questions aloud.
God, let him be right. Show us the way.Maybe he was a hypocrite for pleading for help when he’d blamed God for this whole disaster just last night.
But if there was a chance God would help them, the Almighty who created the earth knew where Faith and Steps Right were right now.Help us reach them in time to stop any harm.He hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask White Horse what the warriors would do to the women.
But he needed to know where the man suspected Flies Ahead would be taking them. When White Horse motioned to another patch of brushed ground, Grant took the chance to ask him. “They spent time covering their tracks. Where do you think they’re going?”
White Horse lifted his gaze to the mountains not far ahead of them. So far, they’d had to maneuver rocky terrain since the river. But soon the terrain would turn to boulder-strewn slopes. How much harder would it be to find Flies Ahead’s tracks then?
“He may wish to take my mother back to the village. To make her stand before the council so her punishment can be changed.” His jaw hardened. “She has already done this once. They made her leave her home and the people who are her family. But this not enough for the son with vengeance in his heart.”
Flies Ahead was bent on retribution for the death of his father. If he killed White Horse’s mother, would White Horse then set out on that same quest? When would the bloodshed end?
The oppressive weight of it all sank over him. Such a vendetta might not end until it took every last person dear to both families.
