by Lynn Landes
Aiden observes the stone like expression on the face of the warrior. What does it take to break a savage? He wonders. They have lived through more than he can imagine and experienced death daily.
His eyes lock with Bills, and he is instantly aflame with lust for him. Red blood stains Bills hands and clothes and he has a smear across his forehead.
He continues to watch without interfering as they fuel up on whiskey. Bill orders the gang to ride ahead and set up camp. They leave, taking some of the war party’s horses. The rest are caught and tied down to be retrieved on the way back.
Aiden catches the stare of the Indian as the gang moves on and Bob is sure to take all the scalps with him.
“Hey, don’t forget my scalp!” Frank yells as he rides off arguing over who gets which scalp.
Cole follows the tracks and soon picks up the trail of the wounded Indian. He follows it and sees that the Indian was able to get back to a horse. His trail leads off into the night. “Damn. He escaped on horseback. Should I follow him?” Cole asks John.
“No, leave him. What harm can one wounded Indian do?” he answers as he continues riding away towards another campsite.
Silence falls over the camp and Aiden walks towards Bill, ignoring the prisoner. He runs his hand over his face, smearing the blood and smiles. “Bloody Bill, now I see why they call you that.” They laugh low and deep. Aiden looks at the prisoner and walks slowly towards him.
“Did you know that warriors are dealers of death and eaters of souls?” He whispers as he stalks towards him.
For the first time, fear enters his eyes as though he knows what's coming.
“Tonight, we will seal our pact and our promise to each other. When you eat the heart of this warrior, all the souls become yours. All the years they would have survived go to the ones who claims it.” He stands in front of the warrior tied to the tree and runs his hands over his chest, laughing when he begins to struggle and fight to escape.
The glint of the blade making its cut has Frank leaning forward. When they take the first bite and share a blood infused kiss, Frank turns away, gagging. He stayed behind to watch from the cover of the trees. Unable to watch anymore, he leaves. He returns to camp after washing in a small creek on the way. If only he could cleanse his mind. They usually take jobs that are fast, this job may be the end of all of them.
Chapter 35
Wounded from his gunshot shoulder, the Indian clings on to the horse and urges him to gallop faster. He's too far from his tribe to reach them, but he knows one way to get help. The rancher and his family! The Cheyenne and Shoshone are enemies by blood. The tribes war with each other and the white men, but this family is different. They have allowed the Shoshone to live and work off their land and for the first time in his life, he is praying that his enemy will find him.
He rides all night in the direction of the ranch. Just as the sun rises, he crosses into the Rancher’s territory. Leaning over the exhausted mares back and barely holding on he whispers, “Tsalagi, Tsalagi…” He does not hear the warning called out, nor does he feel his horse stop and he is forcibly pulled to the ground. The blood loss has weakened him, and the bullet wound is a throbbing reminder to open his eyes.
That's when he hears it, the war cry of the Shoshone and it is like the beautiful song of the morning bird. Tears fill his eyes, and he tries to sit up to greet them as a warrior, but the ground refuses to let go of him!
The scouting party watches the wounded warrior fall from his horse, and they look to each and talk softly as they gather around him. His bullet wound is pulsing blood again, and from the fluttery pulse, they aren't sure he will survive much longer.
“Tsalagi, Tsalagi…” he whispers as they prod him, and load him onto a sleigh they fashion out of strips of cloth and saplings.
“Tsalagi!” he chants over, and, over again until the darkness claims him. They return to camp and call for the medicine man. The bullet is lodged in his shoulder. A few minutes later they send word to the Rivers Ranch to bring the doctor.
As the sun rises to midday a band of Shoshone Indians ride into the main yard of the ranch. The leader leaps from his horse and meets the ranch hand halfway. After an intense conversation Dane is called and soon Harris is loading his medicine bag and following them out.
“What’s that about?” Chase asks his dad.
“They have a wounded Cheyenne buck screaming about a Devil. He's been shot in the shoulder,” Dane answers looking worried. “I think we need to get Dalton.”
Solomon sees the birds circling in the sky as the first snowflakes fall. “Damn.” Vultures mean one thing, prey, whether dead or alive. He gallops hard in the general direction, trusting them to guide him and soon is crossing a river.
The first thing he notices is the stench. The putrid scent of death permeates the air. His gag instinct is strong, but he quickly lifts his bandana tied around his neck to cover his nose and mouth. It helps with the flies but does not cleanse the aftertaste of death from his tongue.
He slows his horse to a trot, and the large black birds bounce away, but stay close falling back on their prizes when he passes. They tear at the flesh on multiple mounds of carcasses. The snow has begun to frost the bloodstained clearing and Solomon stops in his tracks.
Death is not new to him, he has survived it, even dealt it, but never like this. Dropping from his saddle, he walks amongst the dead Indians, and a savage scene begins to unfold in his mind.
“Butchery!” he growls, and he wonders if Dalton Rivers can possibly be prepared for the horror that is coming. He mounts and kicks his horse into a fast run knowing full well that he is chasing the Devil himself.
Sitting with the young warrior, Dalton wonders the same thing. The Indian tells them of the “Tsalagi” or the devil man who destroyed his brothers with fire. Harris is translating as he speaks. The language used by the Shoshone is a version of Arapahoe. The Cheyenne have their own langue but can speak a mixed version of Arapahoe as well. Lucky for them Harris speaks both.
As a doctor, it is important to him that he can speak the different dialects, although he has noticed that over time the tribes are mixing and it is changing the languages. The young warrior speaks and interrupts his chain of thought.
“He speaks of the devil man attacking at night. He had helpers, and they scalped and butchered all those left behind.” Harris says as he speaks rapidly to the medicine man. “I need to remove the bullet from his shoulder before lead poisoning sets in. If he survives the surgery and blood loss, you will have to watch for infection.” Freshwater is boiled, and Harris cleans up as they give the young man some morphine to help sedate him.
“We need to get back to the ranch. I'm going after him, I can't let this butcher get to our family.” Dalton snaps.
“Not yet. We need to talk to the Chief and ask for his help Dalton. If what this young man says is true, we must be prepared. Act don’t react!”
After an animated discussion with Harris, Dalton follows him to the Chief’s war tent to discuss the plan, then returns to the ranch, ignoring the snow falling and blowing wind.
The snow falls swift and hard for hours painting the River’s Ranch in a beautiful winter wonderland. The sparkling snow glitters, but its beauty is lost on the six shadows who push through the day, destroying the perfect blanket. They ride twelve hours without stopping before they arrive a mile from their target just after sunset.
“Kill without thought!” Aiden sneers. “Everyone here, male or female is an enemy. They will not give you a second chance.”
Checking their guns and ammo, they break up under cover of darkness and creep along silently moving into positions around the main house and barns. Aiden's orders are to wait until just before sunrise, when everyone on the ranch is sleeping or too exhausted to be truly alert before the attacks begin.
The five men move away, leaving the horses with Aiden. He ties them under a tree and moves in the direction of the ranch. Cassie will be kept in the main lodge. That
is where he will start. As he crests a low rise in the forest backing up to the main house, he's impressed with the spread before him. It is a large ranch style cabin, with a wraparound porch. The windows are glowing, and laughter can be heard inside as the family shares an evening meal or perhaps a drink. His anger begins to grow as he pulls his overcoat tighter about him to fend off the cold, ‘Enjoy your last eve together.'
Settling down in a dry spot of pine needles he waits. He thinks of Cassie's body beneath his, and her sharp cries as his blade cuts into her. His blood pumps through his body warming him until he sees the first light in the east signaling the time.
Careful to avoid the creaky porch, he slowly snakes around the side of the house looking for any openings. The windows are shut tight against the snow and cold. Perhaps the backdoor will be unlocked? Checking the door, he curses and turns away. A quick look and he chooses his hiding spot, behind the outhouse. Grinning in the darkness he knows soon they will have to come out and that is when he will move inside! No need for him to freeze all night.
He squats down beside a tree and rests. He pulls his prized knife out of its sheath. The large bowie knife has come in handy. Killing Cassie would be too easy, and she must be punished. Will she beg? His smile grows, he knows better. She is a fighter! A door opens, and light fills the predawn air, Aiden freezes.
“Damn, it’s cold,” the old man’s voice whispers. He rushes to the outhouse and shuts the door, leaving the back door of the house wide open.
Aiden stands up and runs quietly for the door. He can feel the heat rush out and embrace him as he steps inside the kitchen. He swiftly looks around for a hiding spot and finds a large dining room off to the side. The long curtains over the windows provide the perfect cover. Just as he settles behind them, he hears the back door slam shut. Sock muffled footsteps sound out and fade away as the man returns to his bedroom at the other end of the house.
Aiden breathes a quiet exhale and looks down, realizing he has left wet footprints leading directly to where he is hiding!
‘Well, so much for stealth,’ he mumbles lowly. Now is better than later. He strips the outer layer of his clothes off so he will be able to move unhindered and stashes them under the dining room table and chairs.
Aiden knows that the old man went to one side of the large ranch style house. That means the guest rooms are probably the other side of the house, perfect. He moves silently as his wet boots leave his trail through the house towards the back rooms.
A long hallway has three doors entering it. He chooses the closest one and places his ear against the smooth wood surface. Hearing no sound, he opens it and steps inside, pulling the door shut behind him. The soft light of dawn filters in from the two windows. He sees a sleeping form in the bed and moves to the side to see if it’s his target. No, not Cassie, but someone else.
This death will need to be silent. His raised knife stops as feels the cold hard press of steel against his temple and the sharp bite of a blade against his throat.
“Drop your knife,” Dalton orders him.
Chapter 36
Bill takes up his position outside of the barn while the other four spread out on the ranch. He will draw as many to him as he can. He looks around and finds a gas lantern on the barn wall. He steps through the door into the barn and ignores the animals inside. He breaks the top off of the lantern and pours the oil in the corner of the first empty stall he quietly passes. Listening for the ranch hands he knows will be showing up for work soon, he takes a small amount of hay from the animals feed trough and stacks it inside to increase the heat.
The sun is still working its way up when he lifts the match to strike it. Pain explodes on the back of his head, and he falls to his face unconscious.
“Now you look like a Bloody Bill,” Pierce jokes as he ties the man's hands behind his back. Two of the barn hands, jerk him to his knees while Pierce throws some water in his face. He slaps him hard to help him wake up.
Bill groans and his eyes roll open. Pierce glares at him, and the jovial nature is gone, replaced by steel. “You picked the wrong family to attack.”
On the other side of the ranch, Bob watches from hiding as two ranch hands bring horses to the trough to water them and he grins. ‘I could use a horse,' he thinks as he waits to see if the men separate. When they don't, he smiles and moves in. A flick of his wrist and a knife buries itself in one man's throat. The shock flickers in his eyes as he falls gurgling and clutching at the cold steel in his throat.
The other man spins, drawing his pistol and is killed instantly when the other knife before he can fire a single shot.
“Two down, oh shit…” the first man has ripped the knife from his throat and raises his pistol to shoot Bob. John appears from the side of the trough and swings his bowie knife, slicing the man’s hand off at the wrist before turning and ramming it in his heart.
“What are you doing here?” Bob snarls retrieving his bloody knives.
“You're welcome. I smell a trap. I don't see anyone moving around. This place should be busier than this,” John murmurs looking around nervously.
Cole is thinking the same thing as he hides in a tree blind from across the cattle pens, watching the two of them take out the ranch hands.
The bell rings on the front porch of the ranch house, and Cole turns to watch the housekeeper greet some men and sips on hot coffee. The bunkhouses start to become more active, and he relaxes a little. A sharp sting explodes in his neck, and his hand reaches up, and he pulls out a feather-tipped dart from his neck. He stares in shock for a minute before dropping his rifle and tumbling from his perch into the blanket of snow and leaves with a thud.
Steele grins and waves his blow gun as he removes the white blanket that hid his position
“I guess being a vet does pay off,” Chase remarks with a smile. He moves quickly and begins to tie the man up. Steele helps knowing the tranquilizer will knock him out for a couple of hours. They carry him back, draped across the back of a horse, towards the main courtyard.
Just before they break through the cover of the trees, Chase stops him. “Wait,” he whispers.
A glint of glass flickers across the field. “I’ve got this one, you get to the main house, but keep the horse between you and that tree line.”
Chase disappears into the trees and moves quickly as his brother continues and watches in horror as the stranger trains his rifle on Steele. He will never make it to him in time to stop him! He makes his choice and bounds from trees protection and charges across the field firing his pistol at the man, hoping to draw his fire.
Frank smiles watching the desperate act of the man running at him, “Fool. You should know better.”
A crunching echoes behind him and his stomach drops.
“So should you,” Chief Nashoba says before he sinks his war ax into the top of Frank’s skull.
John and Bob hear an earsplitting scream followed by gunshots. Recognizing Frank's voice, they start to run in his direction. Bob skids to a stop, and John cusses him and pushes past to escape, only to stop. A small army of Indians appearing around them from the cover of the surrounding buildings. The two men are no match for a band of Indians this size. Yuma, the son of the Chief, has surrounded them with a group of Indians all pointing rifles at them. John and Bob drop their weapons and march to the center of the field with their hands held high.
Chase skids to a stop and falls to his knees. He is shaking and can’t believe his luck. He thought he was going to have to watch his brother die. After a few moments, the Chief signals his men and the two hundred Shoshone Indians converge on the ranch. They circle the main ranch house to wait for Dalton.
Yuma, the son of the Chief Nashoba, drops Frank's body on the ground before pulling his father's ax free. Chase walks up and watches Steele drop Cole's sleeping body on the ground beside Frank. Bob and John are shoved into the center with their comrades. “Where's Bill?” John whispers.
Yuma returns to his horse and comes back holding t
he scalps of the Indians they took. “Let me finish them now!” he demands with rage in his heart. He holds the scalps high for all the Indians to see and throws them on the ground at their feet.
Pierce rides up with Bill tied and dragging behind the back of his horse. He has drug him across the field from the barn. The Indians part to let him through and some cheer and smile through their rage. Bill is lucky the ground is covered in snow from the day before. He is more humiliated than hurt when he is cut free and tossed on the ground beside his gang.
Inside the house, Aiden drops the knife and starts to laugh as the door opens and two more men enter with pistols trained on him. “Where is she hiding?”
“I'm not hiding from you, Aiden,” Cassie says as Dalton removes his pistols and knife and the brothers tie his hands behind his back.
The hateful glare of Aiden burns into Cassie's eyes filling her soul with dread. He is a vile human being, and she knows what she must do, but she is dreading it. She walks towards him with her own pistol trained on him and looks at her husband. He nods in reassurance, and they move him to a chair and tie him to it.
“I am disappointed in you, Cassandra. I expected more of a fight. You know, like the one you gave my father and our men!” he says, pulling against his ropes as if to jump on her. Dalton pistol whips him while Dane puts an arm around her shoulder.
“There's no need for you to be here, Cassie. We can do the rest without you.”
“Thank you, Dane, but if I can save lives, then I will do what I must.” She whispers as Dalton walks to her side.
“Yes, poor Cassandra. Ever in need of rescue.” Looking at the cold stare of death coming from the men around her, Aiden decides to try to reason with them. “Look, I can be reasonable. I only want the mine. My father died from the wounds you inflicted on him. Give me the deed to your family's land, and I will never bother you again.”
