"It doesn't look as if they'll take more than you can afford," Rudi said.
There was a herd of several dozen bison not half a mile away, a bachelor herd of bulls cropping at the new grass, and shedding their winter coats. That made them look tattered, but they were plump and healthy. He could see pronghorns from here as well, and some horses that were probably mustangs, and elk, mule deer, cattle that were probably also at least half-feral. When the travelers startled waterfowl out of the little stream, their wings had made a momentary thunder.
This was a spare land compared to the Willamette, but next to some of the deserts Rudi had crossed since he came east of the Cascades it swarmed with life.
Red Leaf glared at him. "It's the principle of the thing!" he said. "And they go for horses and stock as well. People too, if they get a chance, probably."
This Red Leaf was well named; he could use some time in Chenrezi Monastery, Rudi thought. He's a frustrated man, and lets that make him angry. Or to be sure, a spell with Aunt Judy…
"Sure, and it's not my fault," he pointed out.
"You white-eyes were always importing things. Starlings and tumbleweeds were bad enough, but lions?"
Rudi chuckled. "You could scarcely expect the ones running those. .. what were they called, Father? Seifert Parks?"
Ignatius came up, telling his beads with his left hand and looking around with the mild intelligent pleasure he showed at any new thing.
"Safari Parks, I think, Rudi. Those are lion prints? Fascinating! There's an empty ecological niche here for an open-country predator that can take down full-grown bison, I suppose, since the extinction of the American lion ten thousand years ago. They must be gradually adapting to the colder climate."
"… those Safari Parks to know the Change was coming," Rudi pointed out.
"My Order's information is that dozens of species have naturalized themselves and are spreading rapidly-giraffe, camels, ostrich, emu, baboons, rhino of both varieties, eland… no elephants, alas. And of course tigers over much of the continent-"
Immigrants all around. And speaking of white-eyes… the Mackenzie thought.
He cocked an eye at Red Leaf's followers as they attended to watering their horses and the remount-herd. About a quarter of them looked much like their leader; broad square strong-jawed faces, narrow-eyed, high-cheeked and big-nosed, with ruddy-brown complexions. A third wouldn't have suggested Indian at all as far as appearances went, if it weren't for the braids and feathers and fringes-there were several blonds and one tall, skinny narrow-faced young man with milk-white freckled skin and hair the color of new copper, come to that. The rest were every variety in between.
And Red Leaf's son Three Bears looked suspiciously lighter than his father, too. Folk had moved about a good deal almost everywhere after the Change, settled where they could and mated as inclination and necessity dictated, with little time or attention at first to spare for the old world's notions of who was what.
The which it would probably not be tactful to mention, he thought. Sure, and there are enough Mackenzies who have similar delusions about being the ancient Gaels themselves. In the long run, believing makes things like that near-as-no-matter true.
"And I'm part-Indian myself," he added. "One-eighth, to be precise about it; one-quarter, for my father."
Red Leaf snorted. "Cherokee, I suppose? Damn bunch of mutts."
"No, Anishinabe. Ojibwa," Rudi amplified, before he caught Ingolf's covert shushing motion.
A ringing silence fell. Red Leaf said: "You ever wonder why we're called Sioux by the wasicun… you guys… oh sacred guest?"
"No," Rudi said politely. "I know that you call yourselves Lakota. It means friends or allies, doesn't it?"
"Yeah; because we're the only friends we've got. Nadewisou is what the Anishinabe called our ancestors-Sioux is what the English made of the French try at saying the Ojibwa word. Like what we called telephone tag, when I was a kid, only through three languages."
"Ah, now, isn't that curious, and it's always good to learn new things. What did the word itself mean?"
" Nadewisou? It means… oh, something like treacherous little rattlesnakes. It's not a compliment. We weren't so fond of them either."
"Ah, well, I won't be usin' it, then," Rudi said cheerfully.
Red Leaf laughed, a little unwillingly. "You don't faze easy, do you, Rudi Mackenzie?"
"Not so that you'd notice, John Red Leaf," Rudi said. "There's no point in it, as far as I can see."
When they were out of quiet-conversational range of any of the others, he went on:
"Who's Virginia Kane?"
Red Leaf sighed and reached into a pouch and rolled himself a cigarette; when he'd flicked his lighter he passed the smouldering twist to Rudi, who hid a smile at the thought of the last time he'd shared tobacco with anyone-if it counted when you were dreaming, and the other party was a god. He took a puff, coughed slightly, and handed it back.
"She's Dave Kane's daughter," Red Leaf said, and looked sideways at Rudi's face. "Big wheel in the Powder River Ranchers' Organization, the PRRO-"
He pronounced it pee-double-r-oh.
"-and he and his father helped us a lot right after the Change-helped us get going, and brought his men to fight on our side when some folks decided that land was just plumb wasted on Injuns, and we backed him up a couple of times when the PRRO's politics got dirty. Or bloody."
"And it's the truth a man should stand ready to fight for his friends," Rudi acknowledged. "And stand between their friends' families and their enemies, if it's needful."
Red Leaf nodded. "There was a rumor he was part Lakota, but I don't know if that's true; he was a good friend for certain, but a bad man to cross. Anyway, after that we were tight with him and the PRRO-the Southern Lakota at least; we visited back and forth, did some trading, that sort of thing. And that kept this part of the country fairly peaceful, which was damned useful when we were fighting the States… the Midwesterners. We got a little overambitious in that direction back when things were still up in the air, thought we could take over our old stamping grounds in the Red River country since Wakantanka had given the white-eyes the grandmother of all wedgies."
"It didn't work, I presume?" Rudi said.
I know it didn't because Ingolf fought in that war, the which I will not mention either. It's a diplomat I'm becoming, or a shameless equivocator, if there's a difference.
"Nah, too many Norski farm-boys with pikes and Swedes with axes in the way. Even with all the, ah, volunteers from here and there we had joining up with us back about then, they outnumbered us bad. We should have gone after the Cutters while they were still small potatoes, but that's my perfect hindsight talking. They weren't a problem then and who wanted western goddamned Montana anyway? Only a Cutter or a Crow would take it on a bet."
"And so Virginia has a claim on you because of her kin?"
Red Leaf looked unhappy. "Yeah, but that's not what's activating my ulcers."
"What is, then?"
"Now that Kane finally got chopped by the Cutters, it means everything but the southern fringe of the Powder River country will be under Corwin's thumb. We were fighting them ourselves until about a year ago, up north of the Black Hills in what used to be Montana-frankly, we got beat, though we hurt 'em bad; we offered the Kanes sanctuary as part of the deal at the end of the war, but they were just too damned stubborn. Now the Prophet's boys might start in on us again if we shelter her… but we can't turn her over. It wouldn't be right. How'd she end up with you?"
"Rode in last night, hungry and dry and about to keel over, and her horse in worse shape than that," Rudi said. "All we did was give her a meal-of your tatonka -and a place by our fire. And just as a matter of interest, the Cutters are fighting in the Far West right now, and might be a little shy of starting up their war with you, so."
I seem to be developing into a collector of disinherited princes, just as Ignatius warned me, Rudi thought whimsically; underneath that was a slight
chill. Well, the Rimpoche warned me that I'd be collecting friends and enemies the way a dog does fleas in summertime.
"This is above my pay grade…" Red Leaf said.
What does that mean? Rudi thought. Is that a Sioux saying?
"Above my level of responsibility, I mean. I'd better-"
"Ky-ee-ky!"
The Indian's head snapped around. One of his scouts came galloping in from the westward, waving his bow over his head. He drew rein beside the chief and gabbled details.
The Sioux boiled into motion, tightening girths and checking weapons. After a moment, Rudi's band did likewise.
"Hokahe!" Red Leaf shouted. "Let's go!"
TheScourgeofGod
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
From sunset to sunrise in flight
The Gods are hammering out
The hero from the man From: The Song of Bear and Raven
Attributed to Fiorbhinn Mackenzie, 1st century CY
APPROACHING THE BLACK HILLS, EASTERN WYOMING
JUNE 2, CY24/2022 AD
"Damn," Red Leaf said. "They outnumber us by quite a bit."
The Sioux and their guests had stopped at the top of a rise. The pursuers had halted a mile and a half farther back, near the little stream, and they were watering their horses. Rudi leveled his own binoculars and rough-counted, being careful to distinguish between warriors and remounts. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
"Eighty or ninety," he said. "Twenty of them are Sword of the Prophet, from their gear. The others are cowboys."
"Yeah, locals from the Powder River spreads that've gone over to the CUT. Three-to-one all up, bad odds. And they wouldn't have come this far onto our territory if they weren't ready to fight. I'm really worried about the Sword; I've run into them before. Those guys are nuts. They want to die for the Prophet, and they like killing for him even better, and they won't give up for shit-we learned that in the war we just had."
"You're not telling me anything new, so," Rudi said dryly. "I think I recognize their commander and he's been chasing me since last Lughnasadh, or nearly, and over better than a thousand miles of rough country…"
"Lughnasadh?"
"The summer harvest festival. Call it a little less than a year. Any chance of reinforcements from your folk?"
"Not much, but let's do what we can. No point in keeping all the remounts…"
He shouted. "Hey, Wolf Paws, Brown Bear!"
Two of the youths riding bareback trotted over. "Take four horses each and get to the hocoka. Tell 'em where we are and how many of the wasicun toka there are after us, and tell 'em to hurry."
They looked slightly mutinous, and he barked: "Hokahe!"
The youngsters turned and went, fast- get going was evidently what hokahe meant.
While they did the rest of the Sioux put on their war gear, which in most cases simply meant transferring their metal-strapped leather helmets from the saddlebow to the head, and adding a few feathers to them, kept carefully wrapped against need. The covers came off their shields, revealing designs painted or pyrographed or picked out in feathers and beads on the tough bison hide-a buffalo's head, zigzag lines to represent thunder and lightning, a bear's paw, a dragonfly, eagles or falcons, deer, cougar, lions and patterns of dots to show hailstorms. One had a whole stuffed weasel attached to his.
The men were cheerful, laughing and joking with one another as they took a few seconds to paint their faces, usually simply a few bars of black or yellow, though one did his face with red on the right side and yellow on the left. Edain had managed to get the more complex Mackenzie war-paint on-his was a stylized wolf's face-and it attracted some admiring comments.
"Most times of year there would be bands scattered all through here, but this is the season we get together and do the social thing. We're about a half day's hard ride from the nearest hocoka -that's a big encampment," Red Leaf said to Rudi as the band rocked back into motion.
"Any chance of running into a patrol?" Rudi said through the drumming of hooves.
"We are the patrol. Wolf Paws and Brown Bear ride light, they can gallop all the way. They'll get there soon."
"But if we tried it, our horses would fall down dead."
"You got it, not to mention the time we'd lose switching saddles. Once they get there… gathering a war-party big enough won't take long, but getting it back to us… that'll take a bit longer."
"And the Cutters will be upon us earlier," Rudi said.
"Yeah, looks like their horses are fresher, dammit, from the way they ate up the ground behind us. Either that or they started out with a lot of remounts and they're abandoning them as they founder. Which means they're really, really determined."
Rudi sighed. "We'll leave you then. They're probably after us, and they'll let you go."
"You fucking well won't, kilt-boy! Virginia's my tonjan, my niece-Dave Kane was my blood-brother. And we're not going to let them ride onto our land and do as they please! We spent four years fighting them to a draw, well, nearly to a draw, and we're not going to roll over and show our bellies now."
Rudi nodded, honor satisfied. Red Leaf went on: "I'll organize us into a column of twos. That ought to help… a bit, and there's a sort of convention we've got here… If we can just keep them off until dark…"
He pulled his horse to one side and began to shout orders.
Wish we'd had time to change out of full armor, Rudi thought; it would slow them and tire any horse they rode. On the other hand, they'd probably catch us anyway, and we may last a little longer in our gear.
The column kept to a steady canter. Disconcertingly soon, the enemy came over the rise behind them at the same pace, but a little faster. They spread out as Rudi watched over his shoulder, working themselves into a loose crescent pointed towards the Sioux. The horns of it began to creep up on either side; when they advanced far enough, they could stab inward and surround the smaller band.
Now I am commencing a serious annoyance with these people, Rudi thought. If they persist, it's soon I will be angry.
"Ah, shit," Red Leaf said. "They've got a lot of spare gear, see? They're driving their remounts along saddled with the stirrups tied up on the horn. Makes it faster to switch horses, but it's expensive if you're abandoning the ones that've been ridden out. Someone back there really has a hard-on for us. But I know a trick for that too."
The sun grew hotter, and Rudi sweated under his brigandine and war gear. When Red Leaf gave the order he switched to a remount and rode it bareback, with Epona pacing beside him unburdened, saving her endurance for later; the others did the same. The roll of the land grew a little steeper, and the blue on the horizon was definitely hills. They splashed through another seasonal stream, and then onto a flat upland where the Cutters came up on them faster…
Just about long One of the russet-armored Sword troopers rose in the stirrups and drew, his bow pointed halfway to the sky for maximum range.
– bowshot, Rudi thought.
The first arrow twinkled towards them and landed with a dry shunk in the dirt not far behind the last of the Sioux. The second was never shot; a Rancher whose saddle glinted with silver in the hot sunlight rode close and cut the man's bowstring with the head of his light lance. Suddenly unstrung, the powerful recurve bucked and twisted, and the trooper clapped his hands to his face.
Does that smart? Rudi thought, grinning to himself. Ouch!
The relentless pace of the pursuit faltered as a furious argument broke out between the Rancher and his men and the soldiers from Corwin.
Virginia left her place beside Fred for a moment. "That'll be Vince with the fancy saddle, the son of a bitch always did like to show off. He needs me alive. At least for a while-and if he did catch me, he'd wake up dead sometime soon. But they won't be spraying arrows at us long distance, not when one might hit me."
"That's good news," Red Leaf said as the argument among their enemies died down. "Three arrows beat one, pretty much. And that'll make them keep their distance-there's no reason we
can't shoot at them . Hey, though… didn't I hear Vince was already married?"
"He's a Cutter now. They can have as many wives as they want. He is a bastard, too-was even before he went over to the enemy."
As she spoke a young cowboy spurred out from among the pursuers. He shook his bow overhead and screeched a challenge.
"I was hoping for that," Red Leaf said. "They're going to challenge us to one-on-one fights. It's one of our ancient traditions here, both sides of the border."
"Ancient?" Rudi said.
"Yeah, ten, twelve, maybe even fourteen years old-immemorial antiquity, as my Classics teacher used to say. They figure they can't lose, since they outnumber us; we'll get whittled down until it's safe to charge us. OK, Black Elk. Get him!"
Others shouted encouragement too:
"Hoo'hay, Lakota!"
"It's a good day to die!"
"Nail his balls to the barn door!"
Both parties slowed a little. A way to let the younger men prove themselves, Rudi thought; that made sense. And… he grinned.
That commander of the Sword of the Prophet must be trickling steam from both ears, and his nose, not to mention his arse, he thought happily. Here he's caught up to us after month upon month of chasing, and now the locals won't let him just shoot us full of holes. But there's not enough of his men to ignore their sensibilities, that there is not. Most of them must be scattered elsewhere, looking for us.
It was worth bearing in mind for the future. No man was ever really just an instrument of another's will; everyone had their own purposes.
Then the grin died. The two young men had galloped towards each other, standing in the stirrups and shooting as fast as they could. Red Leaf swore under his breath as the Sioux rocked back in the saddle, an arrow standing in his body. The cowboy cased his bow and pulled out his shete; the curved blade glinted in the sun as he swept past the wounded man, and the Indian toppled to the earth. The victor reined in, a showy flourish as the agile quarter horse reared and milled its feet, and sprang to earth.
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