Stormfeather Ch 05

I'd like to thank those readers who have been kind enough to send me feedback. It keeps me writing. I noted that my chapters are sometimes too short for some. I guess that's just the way that I've gotten used to writing in the little pieces of time that I sometimes have to write in. But to move this ahead a bit, here's a long chapter. Enjoy.

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Amy pulled her saddlebags and rifles from her horse and carried them to the house. Leaving them inside, she headed back and had just struggled to the barn with the saddle when he rode up. Walking over, Amy met him at the well as he worked the handle to fill a bucket and then began to wash the flakes of dried blood from his chest. She stopped him with her hand and examined him for a few seconds while he looked at her with a questioning expression.

"Let me look, Stormfeather, please," she said, scooping a handful of water to lightly rub at a bit of the dried blood. The way that the blood appeared there indicated to her the exact spot where there had been a wound. A few seconds of light rubbing with her fingers removed it and there was no trace at all that anything had happened there, let alone anything as traumatic as a bullet entering. Only the scars that she'd seen in her dreams remained.

She smiled as he flinched, noticing that he was at least a little ticklish. "Where did the bullets go?" she asked, "Did they all just sit there?"

"If they go in, they come out soon after," he said quietly.

"I just can't see how you can do that," she said, "I'd have been dead if even one bullet had hit me in any of the places where you were hit."

She saw by his expression that there would be no answer forthcoming, and she didn't really mind for now. She'd gotten to touch him, after all, and he felt warm and inviting. She thought she'd better let it go at that, before the warmth got to her.

"What about back there at that place?" she asked him, "What will anyone find there if they look for the men? Besides the fire, we left blood and brains all over the street."

"Someone may find the place where there was a fire," he said, "but no one will find much of them, the hottest fires leave no smoke and burn almost everything. I do not think that any will want to look for them. I think that anyone who ever met them curses the day they did. They were bad men. The animals and the dust will remove anything that was left very soon. There are no tracks but those we left on paths where no one goes but the animals, and their tracks will soon cover our own, especially after the next rain when it comes. There are no tracks on the path up to here, Sheena."

She nodded, "I'm pretty tired, my friend, but I want a cup of coffee after that all-night ride. Come on." she said as she walked toward the house. He stood there for a moment staring at her choice of words and wondering about it before he stepped onto the porch and entered.

Inside, she grabbed a black iron kettle and asked him to light the stove. He looked at her and she smiled, saying that he seemed to be good at making fire with nothing. "I'm just trying to save myself some matches," she laughed.

With the kettle on the stove, she headed to the horses and walked them to the barn. With their bridles off, Amy went back to the house. She knew enough about Stormfeather to know that her mare wouldn't let him anywhere near her.

"How did you find me last night?" she asked.

He held up his hand and said, "It would be better for me to ask why you sought me out. The answer to your question lies hidden in mine. I knew that you would come East."

Amy's mouth fell open, "I didn't seek you out," she said, "not really. I heard that my father had died, and came here to bury him. I spent two nights here in this house alone for the first time in my life. I'm the only one of my family left, so I had a lot of things on my mind. When I finally did get to sleep, I was dreaming of you."

She shrugged. "I dreamt of you again the next night, and almost every night since then, though I sleep too lightly when I'm on the road, I guess." She looked at him a little uncomfortably, "The difference is that now I try to have dreams of you. I see into your life, somehow. It's how I know your name, though I never heard it spoken in English in the dreams. So I found you in my dreams at first."

He nodded, "You have very powerful dreams then, to be able to see me far away and learn my name. My mother could dream-walk like this. When I knew that someone was seeking me, I found that I could see you. I wanted to speak with you, but you began to travel, and I did not want to frighten you. I have been living in a cave on the top of the rise there, but I did not know that you were here at all."

Amy stared, and then laughed, "Then maybe we would have met here anyway if I could have gotten here. I wanted to try to find you while I was awake. That's one of the reasons that I wanted to come here. I didn't know that you were here, I only wanted to be alone so that nobody would disturb me while I tried to see you, but I don't really know how to do that. I don't know why I found you in my dreams. But I always want to see more of your life."

He looked somewhat perplexed, "Why?"

"I have no explanation that would make sense," she said, "other than to tell you that once I saw you, I wanted to see more. I feel much better in the mornings after I've dreamt of you – and I don't know why that is."

She smiled at him cautiously, "I never thought that I'd ever be able to actually see you like this. I hope this doesn't sound as stupid as I think it will, but I feel honoured for the chance."

She had a thought for a moment about her situation here, alone with him like this. Well, she thought, it had been her choice to come, so she'd see where this went. When she looked at him, there was a slight smile there. She hadn't said a thing, but he answered her as though she had.

"You are in no danger from me, Sheena. I think the honor here is mine. I tried to seek you and found that you would travel. The next time that I looked, I knew that you were coming this way, but I did not know that you would come here. I left to make sure that you were safe, and I found the men. At first, they wanted the fine weapons they saw that a boy had, but finally guessed that you were no boy. I hoped that you would think of the old town if you knew the road. I wanted them to follow the dust of my horse, but, ..." His thoughts took him in another direction and he looked at her quizzically, "Why did you shoot?"

Amy felt herself blush a little, but shrugged, "I was angry," she admitted. "They'd been following me for a day at least. I didn't think they'd be spending all that time following just to say hello to me, and ..." She looked down in some embarrassment, "I suddenly found the one who I'd seen in my dreams, and I could see that you knew that I might be in trouble, and you tried to help me hide. When they shot you for nothing, well, that was enough for me. You might say that I have a bit of a temper." She looked at him as the kettle began to boil. She was a bit surprised at that.

"You asked me to light the fire," he smiled, "I made it burn hot to begin. It will settle now."

"I thought you were dead, Stormfeather. It's a little hard to explain but," she looked away, "my brother died a long time ago, and my mother after him. Now my father is dead too. I'm all alone, except for my great aunt and her housekeeper, who is my friend. They both live where I rode out here from."

She looked at his face again, "I had dreams of you, and seeing your life made me wish very much that I could meet you, once I somehow knew that you were real and not just a dream. After seeing you right in front of me, the thought of someone like you being killed before I even had a real chance to talk to you, ... well, it was too much for me to just stand there and hide like a mouse. If they were after me bad enough to kill someone who hadn't done anything to them, I thought I'd at least give them a real reason to want to kill me." She walked to get the coffee started.

His expression showed her a bit of the wonder that he felt, "I think that I must thank you again," he said. "You are very brave, Sheena. You know nothing about me."

She set the top back on the coffeepot with something of a slight grin, "Oh yes I do, my friend." She went to her saddle bags and pulled out a large envelope. She carefully removed two manila folders from it and laid them on the table.

"Come here and see," she said, opening the first one. "I almost always draw scenes from my dreams of you so that I don't forget them."

He stared at her sketches of him in awe, recognizing the times in his life, "These are from mostly four winters ago."

She nodded, "I watched you help birth your horse and protect him after his mother died. From that, I knew that you are kind."

She offered him a cup of coffee, "Please sit down. You might not have ever had coffee, but you may like it," she said, "Be careful though, it's hot and so is the cup."

He smiled to her after a cautious taste and continued to look though the drawings. They were a series of wonders to him. A silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. When he'd finished looking, he leaned against the back of the chair, "You shoot well, Sheena."

"My father taught me many things," she said, "my mother used to scold him for it, but he always said that if we lived in a city, I'd have to learn city things. Since we lived here, he'd teach me what I'd need to know and that was it." She smiled at him, "Why are you here?"

"That will be hard to tell," he said, "I have travelled far from where I was born long ago." He looked at her and thought about it briefly, but then decided.

"There was a people here very long ago in this place. They are gone a long time now, but this was one of their places to lay their dead because of the magic that lives here. You may not feel it, but to me it is here everywhere that I look. The people are gone, but over time, many other people lived not far away and they laid their dead here as well, because they felt what lies in the ground here. My own people lived far away and did not come here."

He looked off into the distance for a moment, "My people lived near the sea far to the north and east. One day, white men came in ships. These men were large and cruel. They had bows better than my people's bows, and they were very strong. My people used clubs of wood, and the strangers used metal axes and swords. My people suffered much. There was one among the strangers who they treated as a slave, though he was of their kind. He escaped and was held as a prisoner by my tribe for a time. Slowly, he was able to show them that he could make them better bows and arrows like the large ones had, and better, he knew how to fight them. With his help, they were able to kill all of the men."

"The band's chief liked the man and so did his daughter. That man was my father. Years later he died, and my mother and I were driven out, along with the daughter of the new chief. She loved me and went with us. I did my best to care for them."

Amy noted that he was silent for a few minutes, and she could see that he was remembering something which held pain for him, so she was prepared to hear nothing more, but he began again, "They were killed by the men of an enemy band, the same ones who killed my father in battle long before. I returned from hunting and found them dead. I burned their bodies. Then I left."

"I know," Amy said quietly, feeling like a peeping tom who had been caught, "I saw it all".

This close to him, Amy could see many scars, small dimples where arrows had hit him, and scars from many knives. They were pale and thin, but if you looked hard, they were there all the same. She had the briefest moment to take them in before he turned to her with a startled expression.

She nodded, "I saw that the very first night." Seeing his expression, she felt that she ought to try to explain the little of it that she understood, "I should mention that I had no choice in what I dreamt, Stormfeather. Each time that I fell asleep that night, the dream began again exactly where it had ended, and trust me - much of it was very hard to watch. I couldn't even look away. My view was locked on you whether I wanted it or not. I had no choice but to see it as soon as I slept. But I don't understand what happened to you after the big fight," She found her hand reaching out tentatively to touch his chest and trace one of the scars, "where you got these that day."

Amy found herself wanting more than anything to keep her fingers where they were. The feel of his skin and the solid layer of the underlying muscle caused her to throb. Like anything else about him, Amy found the effect both alarming and exciting. He looked down at her hand for a moment and then back at her face with a smile as she pulled her fingers back slowly. He showed no sign that her touch had been unwelcome.

"A woman came and healed me. She told me that I had to go on. She wanted us to be together, but first she had to go to her home. Then she said that she would call to me." He lifted his hair from his shoulder, "She bit me, and I became what I am."

Amy stared at the scar there until he let his hair fall back to cover it again. "What are you now?" she asked. She wanted to hear him say it, not quite trusting what she'd been told.

He smiled a little bitterly, "You have seen me like that in the vision, no? You would not believe me if I told you, and if I show you, you will be afraid, Sheena. Beside the time that I spent with your father, I have not been this close to anyone only talking in a long time, and I enjoy it, talking like this with you. I came here because this is the place where all of my kind must go, sooner or later. I heard the woman's call to me here," he said, pointing to his heart, "I followed this feeling, but then it stopped. I never found her again. So I came here. There is a cave up there that is the way for me to leave this world. I am almost ready to, but I want to stay here a little while longer yet."

He laughed a little, "What am I?" He looked over and smiled, "I have to think of a way to say this, but for now, did you see how your horse would not come near to me?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Your horse has more sense than most men," he said. "You must be sure to close the barn door before you go to sleep tonight. I will not hurt the horses and mine is used to me, but I do not need the worry of them being found by another of my kind if one comes. We seem to be friendly between us, Sheena, and I am happy for this. But there is one thing that you must do tonight." She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"I do not know how to say this better," he said, "but I do not want to harm you in any way. At night, here, there are two things to be afraid of. The old ghosts of this place are not one of them. I do not know how many there are of my kind in the world. Beside the one who healed me and made me this thing, I have only met one other before I came here. He was in Guatemala and he was killing many people, Sheena. I killed him. There is one who stays only sometimes inside the cave where I must go. You do not need to fear him. I do not feel any others close by, but if one comes while I am here, I will protect you."

She was a little worried, but without the threat to her being made plain, she didn't know whether to be afraid of anything or not. "What is the other thing I have to be afraid of?" she asked.

He laughed with more of the slight bitterness, "The other thing is me. That is why you must be inside at night. If you can, lock the door. I could open it no matter what you did, but I do not want to hurt anyone. I will not become a senseless thing, I want for you to be safe while you are here. I may pass by in the night, but I will leave you alone. I can change into another creature. At night, in this place, I do it to keep warm."

She listened to his manner of speech and wanted to ask him about it. It was fluent enough, but there was an odd quality to it that took a bit of getting used to, as though he searched for some of the words once in a while and sometimes his phrasing was different. "I'm a little surprised at your English," she said, "I didn't know that you could speak it at all."

He looked a little self-consciously at her, "I can learn almost any way of speaking if I hear it enough to grasp it, but sometimes I have to think to find a word and English is not either of my first languages. Of course, no one in this part of the world can speak them either, so I have had to learn pieces of many languages as I have traveled. I am sorry for the way that I must sound to you."

"Oh, don't be sorry," she said, "I was just surprised, and please don't feel badly if you get stuck. I don't mind."

Amy could tell that he didn't really know the rest of what she'd seen in her dreams. She didn't know how to say it any differently, and so Amy just came out with it, "Stormfeather, please tell me what you are. I see a man when I look at you. A pretty powerful man, I'd have to say, but that's all that I see. What am I supposed to be afraid of, besides a man? And I must admit to you that the longer that we sit here and talk, the more comfortable I become. The things that you did back there, and how you helped me, ... well, if I have to be afraid of a man, I think I can handle that. I wasn't afraid of those bastards in the old town," she said with a little defiance.

It made him smile at her warmly, "I saw that. I did not know why you were traveling then, but I saw that you had no great fear of them. It was good to see that." Then his face grew serious, "Sheena, the thing here is that I am no man. There are very few of us and we call ourselves travelers." He reached over his shoulder and drew the old sword. He handed it to her with the hilt of it leading.

"My father's sword. I have rebound the hilt many times, and made new leather for the scabbard seven times now. Leather only lasts so long."

She felt the weight of it. It had obviously seen many fights, but was still well-cared for. The thing about it that came to her right away was its obvious age. It wasn't anything like the swords that she'd seen army officers carry. It was straight and sharp and above all, it was heavy. Not the sort of weapon that any native would carry if for no other reason than the weight of it. She handed it back to him.

"How old do you think that I am?" he asked.

Amy looked at him objectively. If she tried to look past the scars, she had her answer, "I'd say that you're about twenty-five, no older than thirty."

She realized at once that he wasn't laughing at her, but he was laughing softly. He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, "Thank you, but no. I was twenty-one winters old when my woman was killed. After I was healed, I wandered for maybe a hundred winters more until I felt the call of the one who changed me. I have spent more than seven hundred winters searching for her. Now, I have given up and I am here to leave this place."

Amy found that the thought of him leaving saddened her, and the length of time was beyond improbable.

He looked at her, "I can see that you doubt me, but I do not lie."

"I know that you're telling the truth. I want to believe you, Stormfeather, but what you say cannot be," she shrugged.

"I understand," he said, "yet you saw things last night that cannot be to most people also. My age should not give you trouble if you remember last night." He snapped his fingers and turned his palm up. She saw that his fingers were closed over something, something which glowed eerily. When he opened them into a sort of cage, she saw a sparkling ball of light inside them.

"Here," he said with a smile, "hold out your hand and do not be afraid. Let us see how pure your spirit is. A bad person with a dark heart cannot hold this for long."