Chapter 22  

 

In Chief Aenohe’s tipi, Nathan, Vin and Mapiya were frantically trying to bring Chris’ fever down.  Chris was struggling with them and did not seem to know who they were.  Vin had explained to Nathan that Chris still had his memory missing, but pieces were coming back a little at a time.  Vin also explained to Nathan that when he did remember something he had become ill. 

 

Nathan thought about the symptoms that Vin had detailed and they seemed strange to him.  It was true that most amnesic victims had some pain upon the return of their memory, but he had never seen or heard of symptoms like this. Usually they would get slight headaches and once their memory had returned fully, the headaches disappeared.  He did not like the symptoms and it was not something he knew a lot about from his days during the war.  He started to suspect that it was more than just a head injury that was making Chris ill.

 

As Nathan examined Chris, he found that his fever was very high.  Almost like an infection.  But from the wounds he could see, they were clean and healing nicely.  Even the scar on his forehead was healing and Nathan deemed that there would be only a slight trace of the scar once it was fully healed. He frowned at his patient with worry. He knew he needed to help Chris, but he was starting to wonder if he would have the ability to do so.  It might be way beyond anything he had experienced before. He then crawled over to where Vin sat cross-legged on the floor, looking on silently.

 

“Vin, how long has this been goin’ on? The symptoms, I mean.”

 

“I don’t rightly know, Nathan,” replied Vin.  He then turned to Mapiya and spoke to her in Cheyenne.

 

“Since day… he woke up.  The fever…two days,” replied Mapiya, in English.

 

“How long on the headaches?” asked Nathan, changing the question so that Mapiya could understand.

 

Vin translated what Nathan had asked and Mapiya said something to Vin in Cheyenne that Nathan could not understand.

 

Vin then turned back to Nathan and said, “Almost over one month ago.”

 

“Damn!” exclaimed Nathan at Vin’s statement.

 

“Nathan, what’s wrong?” asked Vin, fearing for the worst.  He knew Chris was sick, but he had hoped it was something that Nathan could easily fix, as he always did when one of them was sick or injured.  Nathan always seemed to pull them through. Keeping their ragtag family together and in one piece. They had come to rely on Nathan to fix everything and anything that was wrong with one of them.  Now, he hoped that this would not be the one time that Nathan’s skills could not help them.  If he didn’t, then that would mean they would end up losing Chris and Vin did not think he could handle that.  He and Chris had created a bond; something that only death could break.  Vin was not about to let that happen if there was anything he could do about it.

 

“Too long, Vin.  Things can be tricky with head injuries and I ain’t too sure about these symptoms.  There seems to be somethin’ more goin’ on here, Vin.”

 

“Whatcha gettin’ at, Nathan?”

 

“I just don’t like what’s happenin’ to him, Vin.  It ain’t the normal symptoms for someone who is an amnesiac.”

 

Vin blue eyes held Nathan’s brown ones.  He was confused, but he was also concerned.  It Chris’ symptoms were not normal for his injury, then what the hell was going on.

 

“So, what do we do? As you can see, he ain’t gettin’ no better,” said Vin voice rising, nodding over at the restless blonde on the pallet.  He did not mean to put it all on Nathan, but there was no one else he thought could help Chris.

 

Mapiya continued to wash Chris’ body down with the cold water from the creek.  She also was realizing that Emo'ôhtavo vo'e was getting worst.  She was watching her future die right in front of her and she did not know what to do.  She had hoped that this man who be able to save her love, but based on what she could understand from his conversation with Vin, he also did not know what to do.  Her heart faltered at the thought that she would have to deal with someone else she had loved dying.

 

“Well, the first thing we gotta do is bring that fever down.  Vin, I need ya to go down to the creek and get as much cold water as ya can.  Tell Chief Aenohe we need men to bring plenty from the creek.  If he don’t have the men available, tell him to let our friends do it.  It’ll give them somethin’ ta do in the meanwhile.  They’re probably pacing that tipi right now.”

 

“Sure, Nate,” he said standing up quickly.  “I’ll be back right quick.”  He was about to go through the flap, when he heard Nathan say, “And, Vin.  See if the Chief will allow Josiah to talk to their medicine man.  They may have somethin’ that can help.”

 

Vin nodded and went through the flap.  Nathan returned to kneel next to Chris and Mapiya.  He said, “Mapiya, you understand some English?”

 

“I can . . . speak some.  My father . . . he taught me.  I am good.”

 

“Okay, then, I need ya to help me get him undressed and under a blanket.  I also need ya to find me as many pieces of cloth as ya can.”

 

Mapiya stared at him bewildered.  She did not understand the purpose of the cloths.  Nathan saw that she was confused and said, “I need them so that we can wet them in the cold creek water and wrap them around his body. It will help with the fever.”

 

“Ah!” exclaimed Mapiya, now understanding what Nathan wanted.  “I will…go to the women… of my people.  It would be quicker…with more of us.”

 

“Good.  Good.  Also, do ya happen to have any healing teas that I can use for his pain?”

 

“Tees?  I do not know this word?”

 

“Ah...herbs, plants?” and he pulled the small amount of herbs that he had in his pouch to show her.  It was not much due to the fact that he had used most of what he brought on Vin.

 

“Like that. Yes, for pain.  Yes.”  Mapiya walked over to the side of the tipi and picked up a brown deerskin bag that hung on the wall.  She then walked over to kneel down to Nathan, opening the pouch and pulling out wades of different cloths.  She opened up one of the cloths and showed what was inside to Nathan.  It was the same herb as Nathan had in his pouch.

 

“Yes.  That’s it.  I need more though.  Can you get some?”

 

Mapiya nodded.  “I will be back…with what you…ask for.”  She then rose and went outside through the tipi flap. Nathan watched her go; hoping fervently that they could find what he needed to help Chris. 

 

Mapiya had left the tipi, but did not see the shadow outline that stood off to side of the tipi.  Once she was completely gone from the area, the shadow became solid, as the form of a Cheyenne warrior walked from behind the side of the tipi. 

 

ó'kôhóme had watched as his sister went to find helpers for the white Cheyenne.  She would not listen to his pleas of forgetting this man, so he had to resort to something indirect to make sure that the thorn in his side was gone.  Mapiya did not see him when he had put the poisonous herbs into the water that Emo'ôhtavo vo'e had drunk when no one was looking.  He then waited for his plan to go to work and slowly he saw his results come to fruition.  The only problem was that Mapiya still would not listen to him and now they had brought his white friends to save him.  He had tried to reason with her, to make her see that she was wasting her time on this white dog, but her heart was closed to him and his words.  He had gone to his father’s tipi on several occasions.  But he was mostly there to watch the white dog die.

 

He was told by the Comanche medicine man that he had traded with for the poison that it would not kill a person too quickly.  It would make it look like an illness and by the time anyone would have discovered it, the person would be dead by then.  If this black-white man found the cure, then ó'kôhóme would resort to his standby plan of action. It was his original plan, but now it would need some coaxing since the coming of the strange white brother of Emo'ôhtavo vo'e had not resulted in what he wanted.  He would have to find a way to insure that it did.

 

He glared at the tipi flap, wanting to go inside, to tell Emo'ôhtavo vo'e that he was the hand that was crushing the life out of him.  But he knew to do so would only reveal his plan too soon.  “Soon, he thought. Soon, Emo'ôhtavo vo'e.  You will be gone from here and then I will be back into my father’s and sister’s heart again!” He then crept back the way he came, towards his own home and his loving wife.

 

 

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Chapter 23

 

After Vin had spoken to Chief Aenohe, it was decided that Vin could retrieve his friends from their guest quarters to help haul the cold water to Nathan and the feverish Chris.  It seemed that most of the other warriors were out hunting and would not return until later.  He and Aenohe walked over the tipi.  The Cheyenne warrior was still diligently on guard and knew something was happening when he had seen his Chief walk over to him.

 

He asked in Cheyenne, “No one has left or entered.”

 

“You have done well, Wind-in-his-Hair.  Laughing One needs your help.”

 

The Cheyenne warrior nodded and walked away, but not without eyeing Vin cautiously.

 

Vin held the flap to the tipi open.  Chief Aenohe ducked inside, with Vin bringing up the rear. When they got inside they found Buck and Josiah sitting around the dying fire and J.D. and Ezra asleep on fur bedding on the ground to the far side of the tipi.

 

“Vin!” exclaimed Buck jumping up from his seated position.  At Buck’s yell, Ezra and J.D. awoke instantly.  They had not been deeply asleep since they had arrived at the Cheyenne camp.

 

“It’s good to see you’re well, brother,” said Josiah concerned, looking up at Vin. He could see by the way that the tracker was standing it would take very little to blow him over. Vin looked worn out and some of his wounds were leaking through the cloths that surrounded his body. Yes, what Josiah had spoken was a lie, but he knew that Vin would not listen to his counseling as long as he thought Chris needed him.  Vin would not be thinking about his pain, but they would. He had to talk to Nathan about a way to make the tracker rest and let Nathan take a look at him.  Josiah knew that unless they took some kind of action, they would not only loose Chris, but Vin as well.

 

Vin saw the way Josiah looked at him when he came into the tipi and heard the worry in his words.  But he could not think about that at the moment.  He hurt, hell, yes, did he hurt.  But he also knew that nothing would stop him from making sure that Chris Larabee did not die.  He was not about to let Josiah and Nathan get the upper hand again.  He still owed them one and he was not likely to forget it.  But for now, Chris was his main concern and his only concern.

 

“It’s Chris.  Nathan needs us now.”

 

At Vin’s words, they all stood up quickly.

 

“What happened, Vin?”

 

“He ain’t gettin’ any better, Josiah.  Nathan wants us ta bring as much cold water from the creek as possible.”

 

“What’s wrong with him, Vin?” asked J.D., his face mirroring the worry in his voice.

 

“Don’t rightly know, J.D.  He’s burnin’ up with fever, but Nathan don’t think it has anythin’ ta do with his amnesia.”

 

“What do he think it is?” Buck did not like what he was hearing.  He meant to bring Chris Larabee back to Four Corners and the people who loved him.  He did not mean to bring him back dead on the back of horse.

 

“Right now, he wants ta try and bring Chris’ fever down.  It’s why I came ta get ya’ll.  Most of the braves are out on a hunt right now and we need ta get Nathan the water he needs.”

 

“Your wish is my command, my friend,” answered Ezra, bowing gentleman-like to Vin.

 

“Ezra, I thought menial labor was not part of your repertoire?” asked Josiah, settling a curious glance Ezra’s way.

 

“For our afflicted disreputable commander, I would do anything that’s within my sometimes limited inclinations.”

 

“What?” exclaimed J.D.

 

“He says for Chris he’ll do anything that’s within his abilities,” explained Josiah.

 

“Oh,” said J.D.  “Well, what don’t he just come out say that?”

 

“Never mind, J.D.” retorted Buck, trying to dissuade the young easterner from getting into a lengthy argument with Ezra.  He knew they were running short on time and helping Chris was now the only important thing on his mind.

 

“Thanks, Ezra,” said Vin, also making an end to the conversation. “Josiah, Nathan asked me ta tell ya he needs ya ta talk to their medicine man.  He think he might have somethin’ that cin help.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do, brother.”  Josiah then stood up and turned to Chief Aenohe.  He said, “Lead on, Chief.  Let’s go children.  A friend needs our help.”  Chief Aenohe crawled through the flap and the others followed directly behind him.

 

As Chief Aenohe led Josiah over to the medicine man’s tipi, Vin and the others watched as Mapiya and the other women of the camp walked briskly towards them.  The women of the camp were carrying bowls and pots of all shapes and sizes.  Mapiya was leading them, talking to them in Cheyenne as they approached the men.

 

Vin was amazed at how many of the women of the tribe came to help.  “Mapiya, how did you . . .”

 

“It was easy, Vin Tanner.  The people wanted to help. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e is of the people,” replied Mapiya in Cheyenne.

 

Vin then turned to the others and said, “Boys, grab some of those bowls and pots and let’s get to the creek.”  He watched as Ezra, J.D. and Buck took the bowls and pots from some of the women.  Vin was about to lead them to the creek when he felt a soft hand grab his arm.  

 

“I will take them to the creek, Netse Ôhvo'komaestse.  You should go back to Emo'ôhtavo vo'e.  He needs you now, most of all.” said Mapiya in Cheyenne, grabbing both his hands and holding them close to her heart.

 

“Netse Ôhvo'komaestse?  White Eagle?”

 

“Yes.  You are the White Eagle.  The spirit of the White Eagle soars high above the Black Storm,” she said in Cheyenne pointing to the sky.  “The White Eagle does not fear the Black Storm.  He gathers his strength from the Black Storm’s winds.  His will, making each of them stronger.  Although the Black Storm rages, the White Eagle never flies away from it.”

 

“I don’t understand…” started Vin, but Mapiya placed a finger over his lips.

 

“Listen.  Do not speak.  The White Eagle needs the Black Storm. It’s winds helping him to fly higher.  The Black Storm needs the White Eagle.  It gives it a purpose of being. They keep each other from never being.  Each without the other cannot survive.  Each forever together and yet apart, a bond that can only be broken through death.  Go into the Emo'ôhtavo vo'e, Netse Ôhvo'komaestse.”

 

Vin stared at her in awe.  “Go into the Black Storm, White Eagle” she had said.  Her words echoing in his ears, he realized that she had just given him something that every Cheyenne ever wanted from a wise one.  She had given him a vision of powerful Cheyenne medicine.  A vision of his and Chris’ relationship, something that not many did not see, let alone understand. She understood that relationship and knew that one without the other could not survive.  She had seen in them what only a few had.  That special bond, which he and Chris shared, and surprisingly, this woman had seen it all in only a few days.  They called her the “wise woman”.  Now, he knew why. 

 

Vin smiled gently at her and saw such wisdom in those deep brown eyes that it almost broke his heart.  He could definitely see why Chris would fall for someone like her.  It was too difficult not to.  “Thank you, Mapiya. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e is a lucky man.”  Mapiya smiled widely, her face showing only the joy she felt that this man was someone her love called friend.  She then turned to lead the others towards the creek.  Vin watched her leave with pride in his heart.  Chris had chosen well with Mapiya.  He hoped Chris would live long enough to see his choice bring him that happiness he knew Chris deserved.

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Vin had returned to Chief Aenohe’s tipi to hear screaming in Cheyenne coming from inside. He instantly knew that it was the voice was of one, Chris Larabee.  His heart leaped into his throat as he pulled the flap back roughly and crawled swiftly inside.  He stood inside, overwhelmed at the sight in front of him. A feverish Chris was fighting and struggling to break loose from the caring hold of one Nathan Jackson.  He was yelling in Cheyenne, as a losing Nathan was trying to keep a tight hold on his patient, trying to prevent him from hurting himself. 

 

Nathan had heard as someone entered the dwelling.  He turned to see Vin standing behind him, still and in shock.  “Vin, I need ya ta help me!”

 

Vin immediately awoke from his daze and hurriedly complied with Nathan’s request by grabbing his friend by the shoulders, pushing him gently back onto the fur pallet.

 

“Nathan, what happened?” he asked, his heart still beating fiercely with the fear he felt at seeing his friend rage in a feverish nightmare.  He looked down and saw that Chris was sweating profusely, his eyes were open, but Vin knew he was not seeing them, but something else.  He was screaming in Cheyenne at the top of his lungs, but it seemed to Vin since he had arrived that his energy was being spent.  Slowly, he was drifting off, mumbling incoherently as his green eyes were closing.  Vin had barely made out what he was saying and frowned in thought as his mind translated the words.  Suddenly, Chris struggles seemed to cease, at which point, Vin and Nathan let out a sigh of relief, not knowing how long or brief it would be until the next incident.

 

“He just started getting’ real restless, and then he just starting fightin’ me and yellin’. I didn’t know what he was sayin’, but I tried ta calm him.  It seemed ta make him even angrier and more restless.  Until you came, I was fightin’ a losing battle.  I still may be if I don’t find the answer,” answered Nathan, taking a wet cloth from a bowl next to Chris and wiping his forehead.

 

Vin grabbed a cloth from the side and started to do the same to Chris’ chest and arms. “The others are comin’ with the water.  Mapiya got the women of the camp ta help,” replied Vin, his mind still trying to decipher what Chris’ words meant.

 

Nathan glanced up from his ministrations and looked at Vin.  He had not noticed it before because of all that was going on at the time, but Vin did not look too well either.  He could see that Vin’s wounds were bleeding again, splotches of blood here and there peered through the cloth.  He also did not know the last time Vin had slept or had anything to eat. The man was skinny enough, but it seemed that he had lost some weight since the last time they had seen him. The man was killing himself and Nathan did not like it one bit.  As soon as Mapiya returned, there was going to be one young tracker that would get looked after or else. 

 

Although Vin was busily helping Nathan trying to cool Chris down, he kept going back to the words he heard.  Whatever nightmare had a grip on Chris Larabee, it was not one of his white world. It seemed that in spite of the fact that Chris seemed to be getting his memory back, his soul still existed within the world of the people, the Cheyenne.  Nathan had not understood the words, but Vin did.

 

Abruptly, the tipi flap flew open and the head of one Ezra Standish came poking inside.  “We have arrived, my dear compatriots,” he said, as the rest of his body squirmed through the flap.  As soon as he was on the other side, strong hands passed him bowls and pots which Vin and Nathan knew held the cold life-giving liquid that Chris sorely needed.

 

Vin and Nathan helped Ezra to place the containers over to the side of the tipi.  Once they were done, the others, including Chief Aenohe entered the tipi.  The first thing that caught their eyes was the form of Chris Larabee, lying under a thin blanket covering.  His hair flowed freely, partly covering his tanned-skin.  Sweat glistened off the top of his chest that was exposed to them, and they knew it was not a good sign.

 

“Wow, if I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’a believe it!” exclaimed J.D. “Does he know who we are?”

 

“Calm down, J.D.  Ya like a puppy without a bone,” replied Buck, kneeling down next to Chris’ sleeping form.  He gently brushed the blonde hair away from Chris’ face and noticed that it was not a face of peaceful sleep.  “Do ya have any idea how we gonna fix this, Nathan?”  He looked up at Nathan, his eyes imploring him to have the answer.  But Nathan did not.

 

“I’m sorry, Buck.  I just don’t know what’s goin’ on with him.  It don’t seem like the symptoms of a head injury.  It’s more like some type of infection, ‘cept I can’t find out from where it’s coming from.  I just don’t know where to start.”

 

“Well, we have the water, Mr. Jackson.  May I suggest we start there?”

 

“Right, Ezra.  Okay, everyone.  Grab a piece of cloth and soak it in the water.  As soon as it’s soaked, start wrappin’ ‘em around his body.  We can at least try and get his fever down.”

 

They all nodded and went to work quickly, each taking a cloth and starting wrapping it around Chris’ body.  As they wrapped the cool cloths around Chris, the tension of pain that showed in his face seemed to calm some and so did his restlessness. 

 

“I think it’s workin’ boys.  Keep it comin’,” said Nathan.

 

They worked all through the day until the setting of the evening sun. Chris’ fever lessened, but still did not abate completely.  The rest of the Cheyenne warriors had returned from their hunting party and now distributed deer meat among the camp people. 

 

At that time, Mapiya returned to them.  Vin was surprised at how long she was gone. She came in bringing some stew which some of the families of the camp had donated.  They knew with the work that they were doing that no one had time to cook so each family had given something of what they had cooked.  While there was plenty of deer stew, there was also pemmican, patties made from beef jerky, dried chokeberries and chopped tallow (beef fat) and the traditional frybread.

 

Nathan smelled the food and his stomach growled with want.  But he did not want to leave his patient unattended.  Although it looked promising now that the fever was less than before, he knew he had to be ever diligent in watching.  He saw that the others needed to eat or otherwise he would have other patients that would contend for his time.  “Why don’t ya’ll get somethin’ ta eat?”  Nathan eyes specifically landed on one Vin Tanner.  Vin saw the look, but preferred to ignore it.  He continued to wipe Chris down with the cold cloth.

 

“I’m especially talkin’ ta you, Vin Tanner.”

 

“Uh, oh,” thought Vin.  Nathan was using his full name and Vin knew that meant trouble.

 

“Nate, I’m fine.  Chris is the one needin’ lookin’ after.”

 

“Don’t argue with me, Vin Tanner.  Get over and get somethin’ in that belly of yours before I have Buck and Ezra tie ya down and spoon feed ya.”

 

Vin blue eyes glared at him angrily.  “And don’t try no Chris Larabee glare with me.  It ain’t gonna work.  Now get!  I don’t need any other patients than the one I got here and right now he needs all my attention.”

 

Although Vin thought Nathan had no right to try to tell him what he should do, he knew he did not want to be the one that would keep the healer’s skills away from Chris.  He finally submitted to Nathan’s demand and crawled closer to the fire next to Mapiya. 

 

“Oh, and by the way, Mapiya,” said Nathan.

 

“Yes, Nathan?”

 

“Take a look at them wounds of his and see if you can clean them up, once he’s eaten.  I don’t want them gettin’ infected.”

 

Vin turned to object, but Nathan held up his hand for silence, which kept him from going any further.

 

“Yes, Nathan.  I will…do,” replied Mapiya softly, smiling at Vin Tanner.  She also knew how stubborn this man could be.  He was so much like her love.

 

“Hey, what about Josiah?” asked J.D. curious. He had not seen the older man since he was led away by Chief Aenohe and he was worried that something had happened to him.

 

“I am sure our dear spiritual brother is well taken care of by our native friends here,” stated Ezra, tiredly.

 

“He will join us later,” replied Chief Aenohe.  “He is talking to our medicine man.”  He then turned Mapiya. “Mapiya, I believe Josiah has only a little knowing of our tongue.  I think it good you go speak for him.  Bring food and drink with you after.”

 

“Yes, father.  I will do as you ask.”

 

“Good, girl,” said Chief Aenohe, nodding in satisfaction as he grabbed a piece of the frybread. “Now, eat!” he exclaimed, looking directly at the other men.

 

Mapiya then started serving all the men, including her father the meal she had brought in.  She also put a plate on the side for Nathan.  She would relieve him after she had taken care of the men and the one stubborn Vin Tanner.  She then would go over and speak for the white medicine man. Later when she got back, she would then make soup for Chris’ meal from the leftover deer meat.  She did not think his stomach could handle anything heavier until he was well. 

 

Mapiya knew some people would say that she was a wise woman and could not understand why there were not others to do most of the work her father tasked her to do.  But she knew that everyone had a job to do and that slackness, whether you were a Chief, or no, was not approved of.  Respect was earned by hard work and she knew would definitely work hard to make Emo'ôhtavo vo'e well again. She froze precariously upon those words.  Would he be well again? He must. She could not see no other outcome, she would not see not any other outcome.  She would fight him tooth and nail before she would let him go to the other side, leaving all the ones that loved him behind.

 

TBC

 

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Chapter 24

 

Josiah sat in the tipi of the medicine man, Ma'emestahke, waiting until they had concluded the sacred ceremony of smoking the pipe.  Mapiya was to join them as a translator, but as yet she had not come and Josiah’s Cheyenne was not as good as his other languages, so they waited. 

 

He was about to squirm again, and Ma'emestahke was about to eye him oddly again, when Mapiya poked her head through the flap door.  Josiah was relieved to see she had finally arrived, lessening the tension in the air of the tipi.

 

She said to Ma'emestahke in Cheyenne “Permission to enter?” Ma'emestahke nodded silently, also thankful for Mapiya presence.  He also had felt strange being left with this white man.

 

Mapiya sat next to the Cheyenne medicine man, while she noticed that Josiah was sitting across from them in the seated position of honor in the tipi.

 

“I am Mapiya,” she said to Josiah.

 

“I know.  We were told who you were by your father.”

 

“And, you are Jo…siah, the h..oly man?”

 

“Some might think so.  I just like to say that I follow the Lord’s way,” answered Josiah smiling.

 

“Lord?” questioned Mapiya.

 

“Yes, God.  The power that resides in everything we do, in everything we see, breathe, feel.”

 

“Ah, he is known to us as Ma'heo'o.”

 

 “Ma'heo'o,” repeated Josiah.  “That sounds like a really nice name for the Lord.”

 

The word stirred Ma'emestahke to life.  He said something to Mapiya in Cheyenne that Josiah did not understand.  Mapiya quickly said something back to him and then they both turned back to look at Josiah.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He says that Ma'heo'o lives in everything.  Even in the white man’s world.”

 

“Yes, he does, my brother.”

 

Mapiya stared at the man curiously.  “You call him brother.  He is not your brother.”

 

“We are all brothers and sisters, Mapiya, under the eyes of God.”

 

Mapiya then translated what Josiah had said to Ma'emestahke.  The old wise man smiled and nodded his head thoughtfully and then said something to Mapiya.

 

“Ma'emestahke says this the way of the Great Spirit.  The Great Spirit has told us the Rainbow Warriors will stop the people of Elohi from feelings of bad things and only feel good things. To not be angry with others not of the people that do not understand the ways of the Great Spirit.  This is our way,” explained Mapiya.

 

“That sounds like a real good way, Mapiya.  A real good way,” replied Josiah thoughtfully.

 

Mapiya told the elder what Josiah had said and he nodded.

 

“There is one thing that we need to talk about now, Mapiya.  Nathan has asked me to see if Ma'emestahke knows of the sickness that taken a hold of our dear brother.”

 

Mapiya turned to Ma'emestahke and spoke quickly in Cheyenne.  Their conversation continued for several minutes, back and forth.  She finally turned to Josiah and said, “He will come.  He needs to see for himself the sickness you speak of.”

 

“Tell him that I thank him and that as soon as all this over I’d like to discuss with him on the beliefs of his people more.”

 

Mapiya nodded and interpreted exactly what Josiah had said to the elder in Cheyenne. 

 

Ma'emestahke nodded and said, “Héehe'e.”  He then motioned for Mapiya and she grabbed the elderly man by his elbow, helping him to stand.  Josiah crept over and helped Mapiya with the holy man by grabbing his other elbow.

 

“I must go to the home of my brother.  I am asked to bring more food and drink for our guests.”

 

“I’ll help ya, Mapiya.”

 

Mapiya bowed her head to him and said, “I thank you, Josiah.”

 

 They then walked together escorting the man out of the tipi towards Mapiya’s brother’s home.

 

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Vin sat next to his best friend, bathing him with the wet cloth that Mapiya had gave him before she left to help Josiah.  It was far into the middle of the night and Mapiya had cleaned his wounds and redressed them, smiling at him as she did. She had also called him some names in Cheyenne when he tried to refuse her help, that would have made Chris’ glare timid in comparison.  

 

The Cheyenne camp had basically settled for the night.  Vin could hear the dogs barking, probably chasing some night rodents.  Ezra and J.D. were sleeping fitfully in a corner of the tipi.  Buck sat by the fire, staring at nothing, but Vin knew the big lawman was hurting at the fact that his long time friend was in pain and there was nothing he could do.  Nathan was busy making some tea that would help with Chris’ pain and fight the fever.  Chief Aenohe was sitting next to Buck, smoking on his pipe, watching Vin as he diligently tried to keep Chris cool.

 

But at the time, Vin’s mind was somewhere else.  He was back to the time where he heard Chris screaming when he first entered the tipi.  The words were playing in his mind and it troubled him deeply.  Nathan had not understood the words since he did not speak Cheyenne, but he had questioned Vin on their meaning and Vin had found himself doing something he never thought he would ever do.  He had lied to a friend.  He told Nathan that they meant nothing and probably that Chris was delirious and did not know what he was saying.  Although Nathan had accepted the explanation, Vin did see there was some doubt on his mind.  But Nathan did not push it.  He knew that Vin would do nothing to hurt Chris Larabee, so he would not try to pull the information out of him.  At least, not at this moment.

 

As Vin continued bathing the blonde gunslinger, he mind wandered to the words.

 

Chris had screamed “Nátsêhéstahe! Nátsêhéstahe! Né'áahtove! Né'áahtove!” 

 

Vin knew that the words meant “I am Cheyenne! Listen to me!”   Those words uttered by Chris were the words of a Cheyenne. He knew this was not good.  He had thought that Chris was recovering his memory, but now it seemed he was desperately holding on to his Cheyenne identity.  What if they did manage to get Chris well?  Would he choose his Cheyenne life and decide not to come back with them?  It was something that bothered Vin intensely. It would mean that they would loose Chris.  It was just what Ezra was trying to warn him about and he would have to keep the promise he made to Ezra and let Chris Larabee go.  He shivered at the thought. 

 

When Vin woke from his reverie, he found the deep brown seeing eyes of Chief Aenohe staring at him.  Those eyes seem to dig deeply into Vin’s soul.  He looked at the Chief, waiting to see if he would say something, but he did not.  He only nodded in compassion and understanding and continued to puff on his pipe, blowing the smoke towards each of the four winds. He also did not see the other brown eyes watching him so closely.

 

Nathan, although absorbed in creating a mixture for Chris’ pain and fever, he was not blind.  He saw the way Vin froze at the tipi flap when Chris was delirious.  He knew Vin had understood what Larabee was screaming.  He just did not know what it was.  But Nathan knew whatever it was it had turned Vin a shade almost as pale as Chris.

 

As Vin looked at his friend, willing for him to wake.  Longingly, wishing Chris to recognize who he was and what they meant to each other.  What they all meant to each other.  Chris tossed and turned as Vin worked frantically to bring his fever down.  Vin saw how pale Chris looked and fever blisters could be seen forming on most of his body.

 

At that moment, Nathan came over to them, carrying a small bowl.  Vin had assumed it was the concoction that Nathan was making to help Chris with his pain and fever. 

 

“Help me lift him up.  I want to try and get some of this in ‘im.”

 

Vin nodded and lifted his friend up so that he sat against Vin’s chest.  Nathan then raised the cup to his lips, hoping that Chris’ thirst would entice him to drink and swallow. 

 

Chris even in his delirium felt the warm liquid at his lips.  He was thirsty and did not know where he was.  His throat felt like sand paper and his body felt like it had went through a wringer.  Through his haze, his tongue lapped at the liquid.  The taste was bitter but his dehydrated pores within his throat welcomed its lubrication. 

 

Once his lips and tongue was quenched, he started drinking deeply.  Nathan and Vin watched, satisfied that Chris was taking in the liquid.  They watched as drank greedily of the needed liquid.  When he was satiated enough, he pulled back from the flow and Vin slowly laid him back onto the fur pallet.

 

Vin turned to Nathan with a question in his eyes that Nathan had known all too well.  “I don’t know, Vin.  I’m hopeful this will help.  But I just don’t know.  It’s not acting like anything I seen before.”

 

“What’s going ta happen if we can’t bring his fever down, Nathan?” Vin asked, his heart pounding from fear of what Nathan was about to say.

 

“He…he could die, Vin.”  Nathan’s words struck Vin’s soul as if someone has stabbed a dagger into his heart.

 

“He ain’t gonna die, Nathan.  I won’t let him.”  Nathan saw the determination in Vin’s eyes.  He saw the will of the bond that had been established between these two men. “I won’t let him die, Nathan.  If I haf’ta drag his skinny ass back, he ain’t going.”

 

Nathan nodded that he understood.  He would do the same for anyone of the others.  They were brothers, if not by blood, than by a bond that he knew no one else could understand.

 

“My daughter will return soon.”  Vin and Nathan turned to the voice of Chief Aenohe.  “It is my belief that she will bring the answers you need.”

 

Nathan did not understand what the old chieftain was trying to say.  Buck who had been listening to the conversation was also lost.  But Vin understood.  He knew that Chief Aenohe wanted Chris to live also.  Even it was just for his daughter’s sake.  He held the hope that Mapiya would bring what was needed for Chris’ survival.

 

Suddenly, a moan came from Chris. Vin, Nathan and Buck knelt closer to their friend.

 

“I think he’s coming around, Nathan,” stated Buck, brushing the matted blonde hair to the side.  “Chris.  Chris.  Can ya hear me, pard?” implored Buck.  He was hoping that Chris would wake and recognize them.  It had been so long since he had seen that Larabee glare and the quirk of his mouth when he was angry with the big man.  They all kneeled over the blonde gunslinger, patiently waiting for him to wake.

 

Chris was slowly coming to consciousness. At first he felt nothing but a numbness, but the pain slowly started to intrude upon his body.  “Where am I?” he thought hazily. The last thing he remembered was getting ready for his wedding to Mapiya.  But something did not feel right.  He did not know why he felt so hot and how come he could not open his eyes.  There was a pain that encompassed his whole being and it throbbed at a steady beat.  He heard a sound, distinctly far off in the distance.  As he became less lethargic, the sound became louder until he was able to hear a familiar voice among the droning.

 

“Come on, Cowboy. We ain’t got all day ya know.”

 

Chris pursed his lips to open his mouth.  But all that came out was a cough. His throat was dry and it hurt to try to talk.

 

“Come on, Chris.  Let me see those green eyes of yaurs.”

 

“Vin. . .?” It had came out just a croak, but the others heard it anyway.

 

“Yeah, Cowboy.  Thought ya was gonna sleep forever,” said Vin, glad that his friend was awake and recognized who he was.

 

Chris finally opened his eyes, although they felt like lead.  He watched as the fuzzy images cleared and he saw three faces staring at him intently.  He tried to rise from his pallet bed, frightened and unsure of whom the other two strange faces belonged to that sat next to the one he knew as Vin Tanner.

 

“Take it easy, Chris.  We’re friends,” said Buck, disappointed at Chris’ reaction to them.

 

“I…I don’t know you…do I?” asked Chris, still unsure of his tenuous hold on his sanity.  He wondered if he still dreamed.

 

The others saw the apprehension and puzzlement in his eyes and it extremely disturbed them.  This man was their friend, their companion in good times and bad.  They could not believe that they were so easily misplaced within his mind.

 

Vin, who had known that Chris still was caught between the two worlds, said, “Emo'ôhtavo vo'e, these are my friends.  They are here to help.”

 

Chris looked at the men carefully.  Although he could not remember them, he felt something about them.  There was something at the back of his mind that said he should know these men.  The tall one with the mustache looked very familiar, but he just could not think of from where.  The only thing he did know was that he trusted Vin Tanner and if Vin Tanner said these men were friends, then he believed him.

 

Chris settled gently back onto the pallet.  His eyes, never moving from the three faces.