This man is a legend, best tracker General Crook ever had. He's the one who found the trail to Arroyo Seco three years ago. No, Luke said, stepping forward. Miguel, shut your mouth. He found the water hole, Miguel continued, raising his voice.
He led the dragoons right to the edge of the canyon. Dawn raid, we caught them sleeping. It was a turkey shoot. Ayanna turned to Luke. Her eyes were wide, black holes of horror.
Arroyo Seco, she said, her voice barely audible. That was my village. Luke felt the world drop out from under him. The blood roared in his ears. He remembered Arroyo Seco.
He remembered the map. He remembered pointing the finger. Ayanna, you led them there. Ayanna said, it was not a question. Luke looked at her.
He could not lie, not to her, not anymore. I tracked a raiding party, Luke said, his voice pleading. They told me it was a war camp. They told me it was the men who had burned the freight wagons. I did not know there were families.
I did not know it was a village. But you led them. Ayanna screamed. The sound tore through the canyon. You led them.
She lunged at him, her knife flashing in her hand. Two of the other women grabbed her, holding her back. She struggled, screaming, tears streaming down her face. You killed him. You killed my son.
You pointed the gun. Luke stood there. He did not move. He did not try to defend himself. The guilt he had carried for years suddenly had a face.
It had a name. It had the eyes of the woman he loved. I did not know, Luke whispered. But the words were ash in his mouth. Miguel watched, a cruel smile on his lips.
He had thrown the match, and now he was watching the fire burn. Tie him, Nalin roared. The old warriors rushed Luke. He did not fight. They slammed him against the post, the same post he had been tied to when he first arrived.