He said something in Apache, gesturing at Smoke. Ayla translated. "He says you ride like one of us, fast and low. Where did you learn?" "Kansas.
Fighting raiders." Ethan looked at the kid. "What's his name?" "Kael. It means sparrow."
Ethan nodded at Kael. "You fight well. I saw you take down two men." Kael grinned, clearly pleased, and said something rapid-fire in Apache. Ayla laughed.
"He says you fight like an angry bear, loud and clumsy but effective." "Tell him thanks, I think." They rode out of the pass together, the Apache warriors leading the way, Ethan and Ayla bringing up the rear. Behind them, the pass was silent and empty. The only evidence of the battle, a faint smell of smoke and the buzzards already circling overhead.
By the time they reached the Apache camp, the sun was setting, painting the canyon walls in shades of orange and red. The people came out to meet them, and when they saw the warriors returning alive, carrying captured weapons and supplies, a cheer went up. Children ran forward. Women embraced their men. Old voices sang songs Ethan didn't understand but felt in his bones.
Nashoba raised his hand and the camp fell silent. He spoke in Apache, his voice carrying to every corner of the gathering. Ethan caught his own name once or twice and Ayla's. When Nashoba finished, the people erupted in another cheer. "What did he say?"
Ethan asked. "He said the enemy is defeated. The immediate threat is gone, and that you are now under the protection of the people." Ayla looked at him. "That is not a small thing.
It means they will defend you as one of their own." "I don't deserve that." "You earned it. Whether you deserve it or not is a different question." That night, the camp celebrated.
Someone produced a bottle of whiskey taken from the militia supplies, and it made the rounds while drummers played and voices sang. Ethan sat near the fire, watching, feeling both part of it and separate from it. Kael sat down beside him, offering a piece of roasted rabbit. Ethan took it, nodding his thanks. The kid said something in Apache, then mimed shooting a rifle.
"He wants to know if you will teach him to shoot better," Ayla translated from across the fire. Ethan looked at Kael's eager face and thought about Emma, about how she used to beg him to teach her to ride, to shoot, to do everything he did. He'd always told her later. "When you're older. When I get back."
He'd run out of laters. "Yeah, Kael," Ethan said to Kael. "I'll teach you." Kael's grin could have lit up the whole canyon. The celebration went late into the night, but Ethan slipped away after a few hours, needing quiet.
He walked to the edge of the camp, where the firelight faded into darkness, and stood looking up at the stars. The Big Dipper hung low on the northern horizon. Ethan had used it to navigate a hundred times during the war and after, when he was lost in more ways than one. It was constant, reliable, always there, even when everything else fell apart. ""You did well today."" Ethan turned. Nashoba stood a few feet away, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders against the desert cold.