"No, Carver. You get your message, but justice must be paid. This one this one enjoyed it. " Luke looked at the corporal's eyes. They were mean, hard eyes, even in fear. He remembered the way the man had slashed down with his saber.
Luke nodded slowly. He stepped back. He did not ask what would happen. He turned away as the women dragged the corporal toward the deep shadows at the back of the canyon. He heard a single, muffled scream, and then silence.
It was a gray world. There were no clean choices. There was only the necessary balance of blood. Nalin died at dawn. The sky was turning a soft, bruised purple in the east, the light touching the highest peaks of the mountains.
The camp was quiet, save for the low chanting of the medicine woman. Luke and Ayanna sat on either side of the buffalo robe. Nalin's face was gray, her skin like parchment paper. She had lost too much blood. She opened her eyes.
They were cloudy, but the sharp intelligence was still there, flickering like a dying candle. Ayanna? She whispered. I am here. Mother, Ayanna said, gripping the old woman's hand.
Do not stay here, Nalin rasped. The canyon is poison now. The soldiers will return. We will fight them again, Ayanna said, weeping. No, Nalin said.
No more fighting. Choose life, daughter. Not just mourning. You have mourned enough for 10 lifetimes. Find a place where the corn will grow.
She turned her head, the movement costing her visible effort. She looked at Luke. Carver. I'm here. Nalin, Luke said.
Your debt is paid. She whispered. You bled for the children. You are released. Luke swallowed hard.
He felt the tears pricking his eyes. Thank you, but Nalin continued, her voice fading to a thread. A man must decide where his heart lives. You can go back to your people, or you can stand with your family. She squeezed Ayanna's hand.