The scout. The enemy. Nant'an ignored her. He was watching the medicine man work. After a long time, the medicine man nodded and spoke to the chief.
Taza would live. The leg was bad, but the bone was not shattered, and the bleeding had stopped. Nant'an let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for hours. He turned to the fire and stared into the flames. The camp went quiet.
The warriors, the women, the children, everyone watched the chief. Luke held his breath. He was alive, for now. He waited for them to tell him to go. He would take his horse and ride into the horse dropped.
Nant'an turned to Luke. "You gave him water?" Nant'an asked. "Yes," Luke said. "You gave him your coat." "It was cold. You carried him?" Luke nodded.
Nant'an stepped around the fire. He stood over Luke, looking down. "My son is the future of this tribe," Nant'an said. "His life is the life of the people. You saved him when his own brother would have left him for fear of the spirits of the dead." Luke didn't know what to say.
"I did what I had to." Nant'an nodded slowly. "A debt is owed. A debt of life. It cannot be paid with horses. It cannot be paid with silver coins that the white man loves." He paused, looking at his daughter.
She was standing up now, wiping blood from her hands. She looked at her father, her brow furrowing in confusion. Nant'an raised his voice so the whole camp could hear. "The blood of this white man has mixed with the blood of my son on the bandages. He has bound himself to us.
To balance the scales, he must become of us." Luke blinked. "What?" Nant'an pointed a gnarled finger at the woman. "You will take my daughter, Ayanna, as your wife. You will become my son-in-law. This is how the debt is paid." The silence that followed was absolute.
Then, the camp erupted. Ayanna looked as if she had been slapped. She stepped forward, her voice rising in a shriek of disbelief. "Father, no!" She unleashed a torrent of Apache, gesturing wildly at Luke, then at the scars on her own arms. She pointed to the south, where the reservation lay, and spat into the fire.
Luke scrambled to his feet. "Now, hold on a minute," he said, his voice rising in panic. "I didn't ask for anything. I don't want a reward. I just want my horse and I'll be gone." Nant'an turned on him, his face hard as granite.