queens were as isolated on their thrones.
“You couldn’t sleep?” he asked. Just when she thought he hadn’t noticed her.
At first, she debated whether to answer. Perhaps she could pretend she was sleeping, and he would not speak again, leaving her to her dreams. But she couldn’t do that.
“No,” she said, her voice cracking, almost catching in her throat.
“I couldn’t sleep either.” He wasn’t looking in her direction, and the words were soft, almost inaudible, not like the terrible thunderbolts he delivered when around the council fire.
“You have been with us a long time, now, Naudah,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Ten winters.”
“Yes.”
“I have thought about it a great deal in the last few days.”
Emboldened by his candor, she was moved to ask, “Why?”
“Because I have often wondered whether it was the right thing to do.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“I think it does.”
“You did what you do. It is what Comanche have always done, is it not?”
“Yes. Even when we were not Comanche but Shoshone. So long ago that no one remembers exactly when we stopped being Shoshone and became Comanche. But because a thing is always done, does that make it right? This is what I have been asking myself.”
“It doesn’t make it right, no. But it doesn’t make it wrong.”
“You lost family that day, people who were close to you, people who loved you and whom you loved. That was painful. I know that.”
“People say that Peta Nocona had a family once, too. That he lost them, just as I lost my family.”
“They were taken from me, yes. But they are dead. You don’t know whether your family is alive or dead.”
“My father and his brother are dead. My grandfather is dead. My grandmother is probably dead.”
“The old woman with white hair?”
“Yes.”
“She was a very brave old woman. She tried to save you from me.”
“Was it you who …?” But she stopped herself. She didn’t really want to know the answer.
“No. It wasn’t. But that doesn’t make the loss any less painful. It doesn’t mean …”He trailed off, his voice confused, as if he weren’t sure what it didn’t mean, any more than he knew what it meant.
“As I said, it no longer matters. I couldn’t go back now, not even if I wanted to.”
“Since that day, we have never taken a white captive into the Noconi village. Do you know why?”
“I wondered about that.”
“Because I realized that it wasn’t fair. War is one thing, but that was something else. If I were dead, I would want to know that my family was well cared for. But I could not stand to be alive and not know where my son was, whether he had enough to eat, whether he was cold in winter or thirsty in summer. I would hate not knowing.”
“So it was because of your son that … “
Nocona shook his head, the movement just a blur of shadow in the starlight. “No. It was because of you. Because of you and your family. We still make war with the whites because we have to defend our lands and because they make war on us, even though the old chiefs once signed a paper saying that there would beno war. The Osage signed, too, and the Kiowa. The Kiowa are our friends, so we don’t make war on each other, but the Osage are our enemies still, and still they make war and we make war. It is like that with the whites. The paper means nothing. Not to anyone. It is just paper.”
“What, then?”
Nocona tapped his chest. “What I felt in here … that means something. And I feel that you have been done a great evil. For this I am sorry. I would undo it if I knew how. But … “
He sighed heavily, and Naudah felt bad for him, knowing that he meant what he said and knowing, too, that what he said was true, that it could not be undone. Even if she wanted it to be.
“I no longer blame you, as I once did.”
“It would be all right if you still did. I would understand.”
“But I don’t. Walks on Wind has been
“You couldn’t sleep?” he asked. Just when she thought he hadn’t noticed her.
At first, she debated whether to answer. Perhaps she could pretend she was sleeping, and he would not speak again, leaving her to her dreams. But she couldn’t do that.
“No,” she said, her voice cracking, almost catching in her throat.
“I couldn’t sleep either.” He wasn’t looking in her direction, and the words were soft, almost inaudible, not like the terrible thunderbolts he delivered when around the council fire.
“You have been with us a long time, now, Naudah,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Ten winters.”
“Yes.”
“I have thought about it a great deal in the last few days.”
Emboldened by his candor, she was moved to ask, “Why?”
“Because I have often wondered whether it was the right thing to do.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“I think it does.”
“You did what you do. It is what Comanche have always done, is it not?”
“Yes. Even when we were not Comanche but Shoshone. So long ago that no one remembers exactly when we stopped being Shoshone and became Comanche. But because a thing is always done, does that make it right? This is what I have been asking myself.”
“It doesn’t make it right, no. But it doesn’t make it wrong.”
“You lost family that day, people who were close to you, people who loved you and whom you loved. That was painful. I know that.”
“People say that Peta Nocona had a family once, too. That he lost them, just as I lost my family.”
“They were taken from me, yes. But they are dead. You don’t know whether your family is alive or dead.”
“My father and his brother are dead. My grandfather is dead. My grandmother is probably dead.”
“The old woman with white hair?”
“Yes.”
“She was a very brave old woman. She tried to save you from me.”
“Was it you who …?” But she stopped herself. She didn’t really want to know the answer.
“No. It wasn’t. But that doesn’t make the loss any less painful. It doesn’t mean …”He trailed off, his voice confused, as if he weren’t sure what it didn’t mean, any more than he knew what it meant.
“As I said, it no longer matters. I couldn’t go back now, not even if I wanted to.”
“Since that day, we have never taken a white captive into the Noconi village. Do you know why?”
“I wondered about that.”
“Because I realized that it wasn’t fair. War is one thing, but that was something else. If I were dead, I would want to know that my family was well cared for. But I could not stand to be alive and not know where my son was, whether he had enough to eat, whether he was cold in winter or thirsty in summer. I would hate not knowing.”
“So it was because of your son that … “
Nocona shook his head, the movement just a blur of shadow in the starlight. “No. It was because of you. Because of you and your family. We still make war with the whites because we have to defend our lands and because they make war on us, even though the old chiefs once signed a paper saying that there would beno war. The Osage signed, too, and the Kiowa. The Kiowa are our friends, so we don’t make war on each other, but the Osage are our enemies still, and still they make war and we make war. It is like that with the whites. The paper means nothing. Not to anyone. It is just paper.”
“What, then?”
Nocona tapped his chest. “What I felt in here … that means something. And I feel that you have been done a great evil. For this I am sorry. I would undo it if I knew how. But … “
He sighed heavily, and Naudah felt bad for him, knowing that he meant what he said and knowing, too, that what he said was true, that it could not be undone. Even if she wanted it to be.
“I no longer blame you, as I once did.”
“It would be all right if you still did. I would understand.”
“But I don’t. Walks on Wind has been
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