Mark led the way to the edge of the badlands that lay nestled at a mountain path between the dusty mountains. His horse snorted and shifted restlessly as he reached it. His horse turned sideways on the road, refusing to go any farther. Looking up the trail, he saw why. There was a pair of legs sticking out from under a bush and the dirt road was stained in blood. Pulling his horse's reins to back him up, his eyes darted around the canyon as he told the others. "This was a mistake. Back up." Nathan rode up quickly from the back, telling Mark seriously. "Don't. They already know we're here. You run and they'll shoot you down." Mark's horse circled Nathan's as he snapped out to him. "What the fuck did you get us into?!" Nathan glared at him, growling back softly. "Just fall back in line and shut up. I got this." Mark yanked his restless horse into a stop, discreetly snapping out to him. "You can't reason with these people!" Nathan tilted his head up to glare at him from under the brim of his dark hat, before stating darkly. "Don't presume to tell me what I can do. Now fallback and shut up before you get us killed."

Mark groaned with annoyance but yanked his horse to walk back to join the others. Nathan calmly looked around the canyon walls, then nudged his horse on at a slow walk. A few crows darted off from a bush, but Nathan didn't flinch. He just kept his hands on the horn of his saddle and called out nicely. "I know you're here. I wanna make a trade. Would be much easier if I could see you." Nathan inhaled slowly as people rose or moved out where they could be seen. Some were painted to blend in with the cliffs. Others had been hiding in the bushes. All of them had rifles and fierce dark eyes. They were all muscular men that had seen no less than twenty winters at the least. Nathan raised his hands palms out and called out respectfully. "I'm unarmed. I'm looking for Hawk-Claw." One of the natives closest to him let out a series of soft whistles that made Nathan's horse perk his head up. From farther up the trail, a young man around his age stepped out onto the road. Hawk-Claw tapped his bow against leg, snorting out in a thick accent. "What do you want, Nathan?"

Nathan gestured behind him to the others but kept his eyes on Hawk-Claw as he told him openly. "We need safe passage through your people's land. We brought a something to trade for it. A young mustang." Hawk-Claw brushed his loose long dark hair over his ear, sighing out to him. "You bring trouble, Nate..." Lowering his hands, Nathan shrugged out with a wicked smirk. "I won't deny it. But when has that ever stopped you?" Hawk-Claw rolled his eyes, stating out firmly. "Have you forgotten that my father doesn't like you?" Nathan shrugged, faking innocence as he said hopefully. "I'll stay out of his way. Come on. Don't force me to take the pony somewhere else. You know what they'll do to a mustang..." Hawk-Claw groaned loudly in defeat, before ranting something to his people in frustration. The people lowered their guns and moved away from them, prompting Nate to call out to Hawk-Claw sweetly. "Thank you!" Hawk-Claw flipped him his middle finger as he walked away, muttering to himself as he stormed ahead. Nathan turned to wink at the others, but they were eyeing the Native Americans with unease.

Nathan led the way now at a slow steady pace to keep from looking hostile. Very few of Hawk-Claw's tribe could speak English. He didn't want to start something over a misunderstanding. Hawk-Claw jogged around the corner and when he came back, he was astride a painted mustang that had blue paint running down its sides like a river. He waited for them to catch up, then used his legs to steer the horse toward camp. A few hidden riders followed at a distance from them. Nathan recognized them as Hawk-Claw's guards. They wouldn't be a threat unless they hurt Hawk-Claw. Hawk-Claw led them off a trail and down to a river. Following it up to his tribes' encampment a few miles up. Nate could faintly see young kids splashing around in the river or chasing each other around. Soft flute music played from somewhere, filling the air with a calm serene sound. Women sat together in different groups, crafting things and laughing. As they drew closer though, their faces darkened, and they eased back from them with caution. A woman ran into the large teepee near the center of the camp and moments later an older woman stepped out with a stern unreadable face.

Hawk-Claw slowed his horse to a stop when he saw her and quickly dismounted. Approaching her, he bowed his head like a child to an angered parent. For that is what it was. Nathan watched her point to Nathan and speak only in her native tongue to Hawk-Claw. She sounded more disappointed than angry. Hawk-Claw opened his mouth to say something, but she held a swift hand up to stop him. Hawk-Claw didn't argue. He just bowed his head and stepped aside to let her pass. Behind Nathan, Mark asked nervously. "Nathan? What's happening?" Nathan wanted to tell him but stayed quiet as the Shaman approached him. Stopping next to his horse, she reached out to pet its nose comfortingly, but asked Nathan accusingly. "Give me one good reason not to yank you off your horse and beat you. I told you not to return." Licking his dry lips, Nathan calmly told her. "I'm just passing through. I even brought you something to trade for it. That's all." Her eyes narrowed on him, then she ran a hand up the horse's head and his horse laid down on its own to bring Nathan at eye level with her.

Staring him down, she told him in a low whisper. "I know what you bring here, Shadow-Rider. I can smell death on you. Wherever you go... death follows." Nathan didn't say anything. Moving her hand off the horse, she gently touched his cheek with only her fingertips and added with distant eyes now. "They say our lives are worth sixty dollars... I wonder what price your head would bring, Shadow-Rider?" Hawk-Claw inched forward, easing out. "Ma? Please...?" Dropping her hand from his cheek, she told him in a guarded tone. "Keep this one out of my sight... but watched. Always." Walking away from Nate, she moved to touch each of the horses as she informed the others coolly. "Make no trouble and you'll get none. You can stay with us as we cross the plain. But you will pull your weight. Am I understood, Cowboys? No work. No food." Mark nodded to her, answering for the others. "We understand." Stopping on Mark's horse, she looked up at him and added firmly. "I am the Shaman. Wife to Bear-Claw. Chief of our tribe. You respect me. Got it?" Mark nodded again, reaching out to shake her hand as he said nicely. "I'm Mark. I'm..." Mark drifted off unsure what to call himself anymore, but Wade interjected seriously. "Our leader."

She looked at them all with slightly widened eyes, before saying in a lighter tone. "You chief? Not HIM?" She gestured to Nathan and Mark couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face. The others nodded, but Nathan rolled his eyes. Suddenly accepting Mark's hand in a powerful grip, she grinned up at him as she said happily. "Good. Red-Feather will show you a place to rest." Dismounting their horses, an older woman with a red feather in her braided hair approached them and gestured for them to follow. She took them to the far side of the camp and showed them a small empty coral where they could put their horses. She then gestured to a good sized white leather teepee for them. Where a few young men were removing the last of what looked like supplies from inside. Nathan helped Jack down, while a few of the Natives watched him wince and cry out a little. Holding him up, Nathan was going to help him to the teepee, when Red-Feather approached and reached out to touch Jack's hurt leg. Jack buried his head against Nathan's neck, whimpering in pain as she ran a hand over it.

Straightening up, she turned to Hawk-Claw and spoke something to him. Nathan waited as Hawk-Claw eventually translated to him. "She wants to know if anyone else is hurt." Nathan nodded, gesturing to Mark who was trying to hide his pain as he removed gear off his horse. Red-Feather touched Hawk-Claw's bare chest, telling him something as she slowly walked away. Hawk-Claw kept his eyes on Nathan though, before translating softly. "She'll give them something for the pain and look them over herself. She says she doesn't wish infection on even her enemies." Nathan mouthed a 'thank you' to him, then carefully walked Jack toward the teepee. Leaning heavily into him, Jack asked curiously through his pain. "What did you do to make the Shaman so angry?" Nathan tried not to smile, but a devilish grin appeared as he answered honestly. "I slept with her son on his wedding night. Kind of ruined a truce between two tribes that led to war..." Jerking his head up, Jack gawked out at him. "You didn't..." Nathan blushed a little, cooing to him wickedly now. "I did. And trust me... I'd do it again. The guy has some of the strongest legs in the province. Almost broke my ribs when he came."

Jack quickly looked away, his face burning red when he mumbled out. "Sounds painful..." Nathan chuckled, carefully taking him into the teepee as he shrugged out. "In a good way." Nathan eased him down across a silky soft bear skin that was laid out for each of them. While Jack strained out in reply. "There is a good way to feel pain?" Nathan froze after Jack was down, stating out in disbelief. "Ya. You know. Right...?" Jack rested back on his elbows, his eyes avoiding him as his face tinted a soft pink up to his ears. Blinking, Nathan huffed out in shock. "Wait... Are you a-?" Before Nate could finish, Mark cut in from the entranceway. "What are you doing?" Nathan pushed the brim of his hat up to reveal his face and smug grin. Patting Jack's good thigh, he chuckled as Jack shut his legs in response. Rising to his feet, Nathan made his way up to Mark's side and smirked out over his shoulder. "Now I get it. Lucky for you, I like horses that are already broken in. Eight second rides are not where I get my thrills." Nathan smacked Mark's shoulder, enjoying how Mark's face paled when he processed what he meant.

From the floor, Jack asked Mark anxiously. "What did he mean by that? Was he talking about me...?" Mark cleared his throat, limping into the teepee as he lightly growled out. "Ignore him. He's being an ass." Stiffly easing down onto a bearskin next to Jack, he asked him with a warm smile. "How are you holding up?" Jack dropped back lazily, mumbling out sleepily. "I'm exhausted... and sore." Mark reached out to brush Jack's hat away from him and chuckled out lightly. "I am too. It was a long night..." Turning his head to look at him with fragile eyes, Jack whispered discreetly. "Mark...? Do you... Do you have nightmares about getting shot?" Mark absently rubbed his chest, upon answering honestly. "I do. Why do you ask?" Jack swallowed, his voice breaking a little when he regaled softly. "I... I had a nightmare last night before they... I was back on the gallows..." Jack rubbed his neck where he felt the ghostly rope and added a bit choked up. "How did you know to save me... and not your friends... I should be..." Mark took Jack's hand away from his neck, telling him honestly. "I've known Bob and Wade a long time. I didn't know if they'd be ok... but I figured they'd find a way. That's what we train ourselves to do. You saved my life. I was going to save yours. It was fair."

Seeing Jack look lost and distant, Mark added with a slight grumble to his voice. "I don't know whether to be thankful or spiteful that Nathan is so hard to kill..." That made Jack smile. Chuckling, Mark squeezed Jack's wrist and told him sweetly. "I'm sorry about your farm... I'm going to make it up to you. I promise." Jack exhaled heavily, telling him honestly. "It wasn't your fault. They were going to burn it down eventually... I'm just glad I wasn't in it..." Mark moved his hand to Jack's chest, rubbing it comfortingly as he watched Jack try to drift off. Even for as tired as Jack was though, every loud sound jerked him away. Bob and Wade tried to help out the tribe where they could. While Mark stayed with Jack. Eventually, Red-Feather came back with belts and bags on her with different herbs and sloshing containers. She looked over Jack first. Smearing some herbs on his stitched wound, and then coaxing him to drink something. Jack resisted, but she took a few sips to show him that it was fine. Once he drank enough of it, she carefully laid him back down and within a minute Jack was sleeping.

Mark tensed, but she spoke calmly to him and gestured to Hawk-Claw to translate from the entrance for her. "She says it is a special tea. For the pain. It will help you sleep." Mark shook his head, telling him seriously. "Tell her that I'm fine." Hawk-Claw crossed his arms over his bare chest, chuckling out to him. "She'll tell you the same thing she tells me. The body needs sleep to heal. A relaxed body heals faster." Mark groaned but accepted the cup and drank it all quickly. He expected it to taste awful, but it wasn't bad. It was like a rich warmed tea. A bit grainy and bitter, but the warmth of it was pleasant. She eased him into laying down and covered his eyes with her hand. Reluctantly he closed them and felt himself drift off with ease. Nathan stood outside, watching Red-Feather finish up with them. Hawk-Claw watched her leave, before turning his eyes to Nathan to whisper reluctantly. "You lied. You said that no one would ever know... Now everyone in my tribe knows. You've dishonored me." Glancing around to make sure that no one was around, Nathan moved closer to him.

Bowing his head, Nathan whispered back apologetically. "I'm sorry." Hawk-Claw crossed his arms over his slender bare chest, but leaned in to whisper into his ear. "Don't make me regret helping you again, Nate. My heart can't take it. We know the gold rush has made the governor up the price for Indian heads, scalps, ears, and bones... I even hear that they are offering money for Indian slaves now... So if you think you can-" Nathan put his hand to his lips to stop him, leaning in closer to whisper over his lips now so sincerely. "I didn't know that he would take the bodies after the war... I didn't know. You know I wouldn't do that..." Hawk-Claw carefully took Nate's hand and carefully eased his black fingerless glove off. Nathan's fingers started to curl in shame, but Hawk-Claw pushed his fingers to lay them out flat to expose his palm. The brand across Nathan's palm was the letter 'I.' A letter branded into those that were found to either have sold weapons to Indians or were found to be Native American sympathizers and traitors. Hawk-Claw kissed his brand lovingly, before looking up into his eyes and telling him longingly. "Do you know why my mother calls you Shadow-Rider?"

Nathan smirked, mumbled out grimly. "Because I am the shadow of death. Obviously." Hawk-Claw shook his head with a smirk, his fingers tracing the letter when he told him confidently. "It's because you walk in both worlds. The Spirit world and this one. You are a child of our tribe and a child of theirs... but you walk lost between the two." Hawk-Claw handed him the glove, giving him a quick kiss before stepping back and telling him with a small smile. "I do trust you. I enjoy playing this game with you... but when is your dance of death going to end? Killing all those lawmen makes it look like WE did it... and THAT is what upsets my mother. Because the cavalry comes for us... When they want you." Nathan hung his head in shame but said nothing. He could only watch him walk away when he was called away. To Be Continued...