Luke was kept at a distance, but he watched the faces of the women turn ashen. When the trader left, Nalin summoned the camp. "The noose tightens. " Nalin said, her voice heavy. "The trader brings news from Fort Bowie. There is a new colonel.
He has orders to clear the territory. " She looked around the circle, her gaze lingering on the children. "They are not just hunting warriors anymore. They are sweeping the canyons. They are burning the food caches. They have taken the band at Turkey Creek.
Those who resisted were shot. " A ripple of fear went through the women. "And they are coming this way. " Nalin finished. "They know there are stragglers in the Dragoon Mountains. They will be here before the moon is full. " Luke felt a cold pit open in his stomach. The outside world, the world of maps and generals and relentless progress, was coming to crush this fragile sanctuary.
He looked across the fire at Ayanna. She was looking at him. Her eyes were wide, filled with the realization that the fragile peace they had built and the dangerous love they had almost touched was about to be swept away by the tide of war. He was no longer just a prisoner. He was a man standing in the path of a storm he had helped create.
And this time, there was no shelter strong enough to hold it back. The map was drawn in the dust with the sharp end of a greasewood stick. It was a crude representation of the territory, a web of jagged lines representing ridges, dry washes, and the thin, treacherous veins of seasonal creeks. Luke Carver squatted on his heels, his hat pushed back on his head, ignoring the sweat that trickled down his temple. Around him, the women of the council stood like statues carved from ironwood.
Nalin leaned on her staff, her eyes following the movement of the stick. Ayanna stood slightly apart, her arms crossed, watching Luke's hands. "They will not come through the main pass," Luke said, his voice rough with the dryness of the air. "It is too narrow. A column of cavalry needs width.
They have supply wagons, artillery perhaps. They will come from the southeast, circling the blind side of the black rocks. " He slashed a line through the dust. "How many? " Nalin asked. "If it is a full campaign," Luke answered, looking up at her. "Maybe 200 men, plus scouts, plus Indian trackers who know this land better than I do. " A murmur of unease rippled through the women.
200 soldiers against 30 women, a few old men, and children. It was not a battle. It was an execution. "How fast? " Ayanna asked. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the fear.
Luke hesitated. He looked at the map, calculating. "If they are moving heavy, 10 miles a day. If they leave the wagons behind and ride hard, 30. They could be at the canyon mouth in 3 days, maybe four. " He pointed to a narrow choke point on his dirt map.
"Here," Luke said. "The slot canyon at Painted Rock. They have to pass through single file. If you put shooters high up on the rim, you can stop them. You can drop rocks.