The warrior studied Ethan for another long moment, then he nodded and turned, gesturing for them to follow. Ayla walked back to Ethan. They will take us to Nashoba, but they do not trust you. Can't say I blame them. They followed the warriors deeper into the valley.
The camp appeared slowly, hidden among the rocks and trees. Maybe 30 people, mostly women and children. A handful of men too old or too young to fight. They watched Ethan with hard, silent eyes as he passed. Nashoba waited near the largest shelter, a lean-to built against the canyon wall.
He was tall and lean, his hair streaked with gray, his face lined with age and hardship. When he saw Ayla, his expression softened slightly. They spoke in Apache, rapid and intense. Nashoba's eyes kept flicking to Ethan, assessing, judging. Finally, Ayla turned to Ethan.
"He will hear you, but if he does not like what you say, we both die. So speak carefully." Ethan dismounted and approached Nashoba. He met the older man's eyes, kept his voice steady. "I know what you've lost," Ethan said.
I know what they've taken from you, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but we have a common enemy. Vance. He burned my home, killed my family, and now he's hunting both of us. If we fight together, we can end him. If we don't, he'll pick us off one by one until there's nothing left.
Nashoba listened without expression. When Ethan finished, the old man spoke, his English slow but clear. "You are white. Your people have taken everything from us. Why should I believe you will not do the same?"
"Because I don't have people anymore. I'm alone, just like you." Nashoba stared at him for a long, tense moment. Then he smiled, sharp and cold. You are not alone.
You have her. He gestured to Ayla, and she has you. That is more than most. He paused. We have been killing Vance's scouts, taking their weapons.
We know they are coming, and we will be ready. "How many warriors do you have?" "Twelve, maybe 15 if the boys fight." Vance has 20 men, maybe more by now. "Then we will need a better plan than numbers."
Ethan felt the tension ease slightly. I've got some ideas. Nashoba's smile widened. Good, then we fight together, and when it is done, you and I will talk about what comes after. Fair enough.
That night, Ethan sat with Nashoba and the warriors planning the ambush. The Apache knew this land better than anyone. They knew where Vance would ride, where he'd camp, where he'd be vulnerable. Ethan contributed what he knew about militia tactics, how they moved, how they thought. By midnight, they had a plan.
It was brutal. It was desperate. And it just might work. Ayla found Ethan later, sitting alone near the creek, staring at the water. She sat beside him, saying nothing at first.