Second Star to the Right, Chapter 8 and 9

Second Star to the Right

by Mctrip7

Rating: PG-13
Genre: Suspense, Angst, Romance
For: Connor, as requested
Archive: Trip
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount, but the story is mine
Summary: Anticipation, Realization

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Chapter 8

“Peace” was all Clay could think of to say.

Little Eagle peered around his shoulder and shouted what sounded like “Loki”! He crawled toward the slit in the rock. When Clay didn’t follow, he extended his arms and pointed at the jacket.

Clay asked “Golden Eagle?”

The boy nodded. As he approached the opening, another face appeared. This one looked much happier. Clay could hear the joyous sounds coming from outside their hideout. Red Eagle crawled through the opening and was whisked away. Again the gun appeared and he was motioned to come forward. Clay wasn’t sure he really wanted to. A command was given and the motion was repeated. As Clay was reluctantly obeying, another face appeared. It was Red Eagle. He extended his hand. Clay smiled and turned sideways and wiggled into the slit. Strong, muscular reddish brown arms pulled him through. He nodded as he looked into the face of “hell itself” and said “Thanks.”

As he attempted to stand, Red Eagle took his arm and said something to the most massive piece of humanity Clay had ever seen. His perfect torso was bare to the waist, wearing only leggings, moccasins and a breechcloth. Around his neck he wore a thin leather strip interspersed with gold and silver medallions. His regal bearing said he was definitely a “Chief”.

Clay was beginning to feel a little lightheaded from the events of the day. His arm felt feverish and he was sure that the little Eagle needed medical attention. Before he could say anything, the “Chief” commanded:

“You ride?" using his hands to convey a fast moving object.

“Yes, and I fell off my horse when I tried to pick Red Eagle up. The bobcats were after him.” The words tumbled out of Clay’s mouth as he thought Golden Eagle could understand English.

A harsh word came from the brave standing by him, along with a rod placed in front of Clay’s mouth.

Red Eagle spoke up. From what Clay could follow, he was telling the “Chief” how Clay had saved him; how he had hidden him in the cave and kept him safe. He also showed the leader how Clay had tried to dress his wound.

Golden Eagle listened carefully to his son. He motioned for one of the braves to bring water which he gave to Red Eagle. When the little boy had a swallow, he turned and offered the pouch to Clay.

Clay took a swallow and returned it to Red Eagle, saying “Thank you.” His mouth felt like it was full of dirt. Red Eagle gulped down half of the water remaining and then, again, offered it to Clay. This time Clay smiled and accepted the container and took several long swigs of the liquid.

This exchange was not lost on Golden Eagle. “You are a brave man,” he said in perfect English. “Come.” He motioned to one of the braves to bring a pony.

Clay was still in shock from this revelation, but the sound of approaching horses got his attention. The party of Indians turned in the direction of the sound. The braves took their places by the side of their Chief as the riders came into view.

Clay’s heart skipped a beat. It was Chiric with Sam close behind. Then he could make out Larry, Shorty, and Curly. He knew they would come to his rescue, but he needed to be sure they knew that everything was OK, so far.

Chiric headed straight for Clay, but when he couldn’t get through, he reared. His pathway cleared and he came to Clay to be acknowledged.

“Good Boy, Chiric! You didn’t let me down.”

Chiric whinnied.

The Indians, including Golden Eagle, were in awe, especially when Clay put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the stallion. He then reached down and extended his hand to Red Eagle who grabbed hold. Clay then swung him up on the saddle in front of him.

“I think he needs to see a doctor, Sam. His foot is infected. It looks awful.”

Sam began speaking to Golden Eagle in his native tongue, explaining how serious the injury was and offered to take the boy to Dr. Jensen.

Golden Eagle resisted, wanting their medicine man to see him first. He also said he wanted to acknowledge what Clay had done and invited Sam and his men to accompany them to their camp.

Sam secretly had an idea that Golden Eagle wanted the rest of his tribe to see the golden stallion and the man he allowed to ride him. The fact that Red Eagle was perched there, too, would not be lost on them.

Sam accepted the invitation saying, “It would be an honor to be present at such a meaningful ceremony.”

Sam conveyed this to Clay and his men. “Mind your manners, now. No laughing or joking. This is a very high honor they are speaking of. Clay, I’m proud of you. John will be, too. By the way, did you see John as you headed north?”

“No, I never saw him. I hope he is OK. Sam, I didn’t know the Indians spoke any English.”

“Oh, they understand a lot of what you say. For the most part, they won’t acknowledge it; but their leaders can speak enough English to make themselves understood when they think it’s important. Golden Eagle’s cousin is Quanah Parker whose mother was a white woman, Cynthia Ann Parker. I’m guess she’s the one that taught them.”

Clay was astounded.

“Story goes that she and her brother were captured by the Comanche when they were young. They sold the boy back to his family, but she wouldn’t go. She was raised by the tribe and later married one of the braves. They had three children, Quanah was one of them. You must have missed John when you moved into the rocks. Incidentally, why did you do that?”

“I saw the Indians earlier, but they didn’t see me, so I thought I would avoid them that way. Not such a good idea.”

“I’m sure John is just fine. I wish he could be here to see this. He and Golden Eagle have a lot of respect for each other. John’s cattle have seen the Indians through some pretty bad winters; and few other Indian braves will come into Comanche territory, thus keeping their aggressive skirmishes to a minimum.”

The party halted and Golden Eagle moved out in front. They had arrived at his camp outpost, and it was necessary for him to go ahead to let them know that he approved of the incoming group. Sam felt that the Chief wanted to announce that this was an especially important group, that his son had been found and they were going to honor the person responsible.

As they proceeded, they could see that the other members of the tribe were gathered in front of their teepees. They raised their hands in greeting, some shouting words of welcome, others of praise, but when they saw the beautiful golden stallion with Clay on his back, they fell to the ground. Golden Eagle allowed them to remain so until his group had passed. They went directly to the Chief’s lodge. The Medicine Man was waiting for them. Red Eagle was apprehensive.

Clay leaned over putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he said, “It’s OK. Your foot will be better.”

From the tone of Clay’s voice, the boy smiled. He would be brave.

Clay lifted him into the arms of the medicine man who took him into his teepee.

Golden Eagle was addressing his people. He was evidently telling them about the bobcats, the trap, and how Clay had rescued Red Eagle. He finished by pointing at Clay. A huge cheer went up and they began to dance around.

Clay was sure Chiric’s name had been mentioned, but he didn’t know what the Comanche name for him was. A woman came forward and brought a blanket which she presented to him, bowing before him. Clay was embarrassed and didn’t know what to say. He could feel his face flushing.

Sam came along side of him and said, “This is his mother, Clay. Cross your arms and nod to her. That is the way to say ‘thank you’.”

Clay followed Sam’s instructions and smiled. He felt he did it right as another cheer went up and the beautiful dark skinned lady nodded as he accepted her gift.

Golden Eagle motioned for Clay to come and take a seat beside him. Room was made for Sam and the other men to sit around the campfire in lesser places. Clay was a little uneasy without Sam at his side. Golden Eagle noticed this and invited Sam to come and sit beside Clay. One of the braves had taken Chiric’s reins to lead him away. When Chiric realized he was being taken away from Clay, he reared and began to make whinnying noises. Clay jumped up to see what was happening and Chiric immediately came to him. The offending Indian was terrified. Golden Eagle had also risen from his seat. He said something to the brave and he backed away, bobbing his head.

Golden Eagle turned to Clay and said, ”One horse, one brave.”

Sam explained “He is saying that Chiric acknowledges one master. No one else may touch him.”

Clay nodded to the Chief as Chiric stood by him.

Golden Eagle clapped his hands and the dancing began. The young women were like feathers bending in the wind. Their graceful movements were not lost on Clay. As the dance ended, the women moved aside to allow four braves in full regalia to move forward to the beat of the drums. Their chests were bare but they wore necklaces of bear claws with discs of gold entwined with them. They did not wear bonnets of feathers, but as their ancestors, they wore buffalo scalps with horns. Their leggings were colored blue with scarlet ties. Clay’s eyes were drawn to the large knives they carried.

Golden Eagle motioned to Clay to come to him. He handed Clay a small bowl carved out of wood, and he motioned for Clay to drink. All Clay had had to eat since breakfast was the piece of jerky that Red Eagle had shared with him. He couldn’t tell what the liquid looked like because of the dark wood, but when he raised it to his mouth, it had a pleasant smell, kind of like citrus. He took a small sip, but Golden Eagle stood and signaled for Clay to consume the remainder. It wasn’t unpleasant, kind of like wine.

The tallest of the braves stepped for ward and handed his knife to Golden Eagle who extended his right hand and made a deep cut in his palm. Clay was beginning to feel a little dizzy; but he took the knife Golden Eagle handed to him. It took a second for it to sink in just what he was supposed to do with it. Sam came to stand by him as he extended his left hand and attempted to slice his palm with the bloody knife.

Sam whispered to him, “Stand up straight!”

Clay responded immediately. Watching his blood pool in his hand, he handed the knife back to Golden Eagle who returned it to the Brave. Golden Eagle then placed his hand over Clay’s and looked into his eyes as he said “Brother! You will be known as “Horse Rider of the Comanche.”

Chapter 9

A low chant began among the braves and the women started to hum. As it progressed, it became a crescendo, finally reaching what sounded like a wolf’s lonely mating call. Then the drums began their rhythmic beating. First the braves, then the women began dancing around the campfire. It was an awesome sight. Curley later said it made his flesh crawl.

As the chant began, four of the braves made a seat with their arms and hoisted Clay up for a ride around the compound. He was then taken to the Chief’s lodge and placed on a cot that had been prepared for him. That was the last thing Clay remembered until he became aware of not being able to move. When he opened his eyes he could see the sun shinning through the hole in the roof – no there were sticks and skins, a teepee. Then he looked into the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen and they appeared to be smiling at him. A voice said “Claay, you are safe.”

“Where am I?

“Golden Eagle’s Lodge,” the deep brown pools said. “You are hungry?”

“No, just some water please. Water.”

As she left, the woman appeared to be sad. When she returned with a gourd of water, Clay attempted to reach for her arm but found he couldn’t move his hand.

“Thank you,” he said. “Why do you look so sad? If you untie my hands, I can help you.”

“No. Must not use,” she said pointing to the bandages on his hands. “You need eat. Must have food.”

“OK. I just wanted the water first.”

The woman smiled as she left, returning with food.

Clay smiled and said, “Thank you. You know my name, but I don’t know yours. He tried to point to himself as he said “Clay”. Then he pointed to her as he said “Your name is - -

She looked at him a few seconds before she pointed to herself and said “Rorioya.”

“I can say Rori. I’m glad to know you, Rori. How is Red Eagle? Were they able to fix his ankle?”

As she brought a bowl of some kind of soup to Clay, she told him with words and signs that Sam was coming to pick Red Eagle up that afternoon and let his medicine man look at him. The Shamus of the tribe was unable to help him. He had suggested cutting off the boy’s leg below the knee; however, Golden Eagle refused and sent for Sam, hoping his man could help him.

“If anyone can help him, Doc Jensen can, that is if the infection hasn’t gone too far.”

Rori lowered her head as she began to cry softly. Big tears rolled down her cheeks.

Clay wanted to put his arm around her and tell her to go ahead and have a good cry; but he couldn’t even touch her. He tried to rise up toward her. She seemed to understand and lay her head on his shoulder and stifled a few sobs.

“He’s going to be fine, Rori. I’m sure Dr. Jensen can help him. He may not be perfect, but he’ll love you just the same and I hope you will love him back.”

She raised her head to look at him. “If not whole, cannot be brave. Outcast!” And she began to cry again.

Clay squirmed around and tried to rise up again. As he did, the room began to spin.

“Rori, what was in that broth you brought me? The pain is easing but I feel like I’m going to pass out. Where’s Sam? Where is . . . . . .”

His next awareness was of being “so o o cold”. He formed Rori’s name in his mind but when he tried to speak, nothing came out. He felt cover being placed over him. It was fur and it felt warm. He reached to fasten his shirt, but his arms wouldn’t move that far. He looked down, seeing that he had no shirt on. No wonder he was cold. He tried to look around the teepee but again, he became dizzy. As his body warmed, he could feel himself drifting. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.

When he became aware again, he knew an amount of time had passed. Looking up to the poles, he saw that it was dark now. He felt his stomach rumble. He turned his head toward the lantern. Rori was sitting on a stool close by. She smiled and turned to pick up a bowl of something that looked like oatmeal.

She leaned over him as she said, “Eat.”

Clay felt feverish and he had a hard time focusing. He couldn’t rise up this time. She put her arm under his shoulders and lifted him slightly. He ate a little, but then turned his head as he closed his eyes. Rori was becoming concerned. She shook him gently enough to rouse him. She brought the gourd containing the potion the medicine man had left with her to his mouth. It was suppose to be for the fever if it returned. Clay automatically swallowed all the liquid. Shortly, he began to twist and turn and ramble on. She could not understand what he was saying, but she wiped his face with a cool cloth.

As she pulled the furs back, she realized he was a soaking wet. She found some buckskin and began drying him off. When she felt he was no longer wet, she changed his furs. He began to tremble and then to shake. Rori quickly lay beside him and held him in her arms.

When Clay awoke he felt terrible. He ached all over and his left hand was throbbing. He realized he could move his right arm; but it looked twice its normal size.

“Water”, he managed to say. He did not see anyone, but he repeated it “Water. Water, please.”

Rori appeared in the door carrying a bowl of some kind which she placed on the table. She immediately went to a large vat and filled a gourd and brought it to Clay. He seemed to be too weak to rise in order to drink. She used her scoop to bring the water to his lips. He finished all the water in the gourd and asked for more.

Rori shook her head and said “Soon.”

“How long have I been out?” Clay asked. “How long...” and he pointed to himself, “...asleep?”

Rori made the sign for many moons; but Clay just smiled. He didn’t know what she meant.

When Rori looked back at him, his eyes were closed. She called to him “C a l a y”; but he didn’t answer. That night she took her place next to him under the furs.

When Clay opened his eyes, she was gone. The sun shone through the hole in the teepee.

“It looks like midday.” he said out loud. He lifted the fur covering and was surprised to see that he had no clothes on. “My head is clear. I feel strong – and hungry! I’d get dressed, if I had any clothes.”

Rori entered the tent carrying a plate of food.

“That looks good. I’m starved.” Clay said as he smiled at her. Her eyes, those dark brown pools; I’ve looked into them before in some other place,” Clay thought to himself. He must have frowned, because Rori hesitated; so he gave her his best smile and she responded, bringing his food and setting it in front of him.

“Have you eaten?” he asked. Then he made the motions of putting something in her mouth. She smiled, lowering her eyes.

“We’ll eat this together,” he said. “Do you have a spoon, like this?” He said pointing to his utensil. She drew back from him and lowered her head again.

“Never mind. We’ll share.”

“It’s OK. I don’t think I have anything I can give you." He extended his right hand to touch her and she looked alarmed. She moved his hand back to his waist and pressed on his shoulders, making him lay back on the furs. She took the spoon and began to feed him.

“I think I can do that now. You don’t have to,” he said. “But it’s kind of nice, if you want to. You take some, too.” She smiled and took a small bite; then she continued feeding him.

“We’re going to have to work on communicating with each other. Do you understand English?" From the look on her face, he guessed ‘not too much’.

He began by pointing to the food, saying “F O O D”. After repeating it several times, she pointed and said “F O O D.”

~~~~

Meanwhile on Enterprise . . . .

“No change, Captain.”

TBC

Continue to Chapter 10 and 11

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