The mounted warrior bore down on River Dog. Sunlight sparked from the cruel metal blade of the spears tip as the horse and rider cleared the swirling, dusty fog.

Max threw himself into motion. "River Dog!" he yelled, afraid he wouldn't arrive in time.

The Mesaliko shaman lifted his head, turning to glance at Max. He didn't move from the horse's path.

The horse's hooves thundered against the ground, digging up clumps of sandy loam, slicing through cacti. Drawing up smoothly on the horse's back, keeping himself in place with his knees, the warrior issued a feral cry. The war paint marking his features made his threatening expression even harsher. His arm whipped forward as he hurled the spear.

In a low, flat dive, Max covered the ground separating him from the Mesaliko shaman. As he thudded into the other man, sending both of them sprawling across the ground, he glimpsed the spear embedding in the ground only inches away.

The warrior rode by. The horse's hooves hammered against the ground only inches from Max's head.

"What are you doing?" River Dog demanded.

Max scrambled frantically, pushing himself to his feet and trying to aid the shaman. "Saving you."

"There is no need."

The warrior reined in his mount, bringing the big animal around in a tight turn that churned up a spray of dust and sand. His angry eyes focused on River Dog.

Max glanced at the spear jutting up from the ridge only a few feet away. "He would have killed you."

"He can't kill me." River Dog spoke confidently.

Max looked around desperately, searching for some way to get them to safety until help could come. Surely the warrior's yells hadn't gone unnoticed by the people in the village below.

The painted warrior leveled an accusing finger. "River Dog!" he said in a gruff voice. "Betrayer of our people!"

Max glanced at River Dog. "You know him?"