Seed of Evil

by David Thompson

  “It stands for the woman you care for the most,” Zach explained.

  “Sweetheart.” Chases Rabbits grinned. “That fit. Me like it.”

  “The whites have a saying,” Zach said. “We can’t live with them and we can’t live without them. Or as Uncle Shakespeare puts it, we can’t live without them and we can’t chuck them off cliffs.”

  “Chuck?”

  “Throw.”

  Chases Rabbits was lost. “Why we throw sweethearts off cliff? They maybe die.”

  “Doesn’t Raven On The Ground ever get your dander up?”

  “Dander?”

  “Temper. Doesn’t she ever make you angry?”

  “She mostly make me happy and warm.”

  Zach suddenly switched his attention to the hollow. “One of the whites.”

  The twilight had darkened, but there was sufficient light to reveal Petrie walking in a wide circle around the trading post.

  “What him do?”

  “Maybe he’s getting some fresh air,” Zach speculated. “Or maybe he’s making sure everyone has gone for the day.”

  “Him never talk much, that one.”

  “He strikes me as a sidewinder. The most dangerous of the bunch.”

  “How you know that? You see him shoot or use knife?”

  “It’s how he carries himself. It’s his eyes. He’s a killer. You stay shy of him, you hear?”

  Chases Rabbits had learned to trust Zach’s judgment. It compounded his worry: his sweetheart in the hands of a killer. “The other whites like him?”

  “Could be, but he’s the one I’d watch out for.”

  An inky mantle replaced the velvet blue of sky, and stars sparkled like so many diamonds. A coyote yipped, and as if that were a signal, the night pealed with a bestial chorus of roars and shrieks and bleats.

  “Petrie’s gone back in,” Zach said. “Time for your look-see. Give a holler if you run into trouble and I’ll come on the run.”

  “What I holler?”

  “ ‘Help’ is always good.”

  Careful not to bump the wolf, Chases Rabbits rose and crept down the slope. He excelled at stalking. Crow children played a game where they snuck up on one another, and he had always been good at it.

  The smell of the burned wood got into his nose, and he felt the urge to sneeze. Quickly pinching it, he waited until the urge faded.

  Moving slowly, Chases Rabbits came to the front corner of the mercantile and peered around it. The door was closed. Inside, the whites were still talking and laughing. A celebration of some kind, he concluded. Crouching, he sidled to the window and raised an eye to the bottom of the glass.

  The mercantile was a mess. Goods had been thrown all over the floor and shelves had been upended. Geist was on the counter, drinking from a long-necked bottle. Petrie was watching Dryfus and Gratt, who also had bottles. They were pushing a woman back and forth, cuffing her and squeezing her bosom. The woman was horror-struck.

  So was Chases Rabbits.

  It was Raven On The Ground.

  Chases Rabbits was at the front door before he realized his feet were moving. Jerking on the latch, he pushed the door open and rushed inside, his new rifle level at his hip. He was so mad, he wasn’t thinking. “Stop!” he cried.

  The whites turned to stone. Geist had the whiskey bottle to his lips. Gratt was about to shove Raven On The Ground and had his hand on her shoulder. She turned, her face pale and sweaty, and said in Crow, “Chases Rabbits? Is that you?” Her speech was slurred and she couldn’t seem to stand up straight.

  Petrie started to raise his rifle.

  “No!” Chases Rabbits yelled, and took aim. His brain began to work. He had blundered in charging inside. He was one against four; he couldn’t possibly shoot them all before they shot him. In Crow he said, “Come to me, Raven On The Ground.”

  “I can’t.”

  Chases Rabbits didn’t take his eyes off Petrie, the one Zach had warned him about. “Why not?”

  “I can hardly walk. They held me down and poured firewater down my throat.”

  Moving wide around Dryfus to reach her, Chases Rabbits said, “I will get you out of here.”

  “Lavender and Flute Girl are in a room in the back,” Raven On The Ground said.

  “Where is Spotted Fawn?”

  “They killed her.”

  Shock gripped Chases Rabbits. He had feared something like this, but to have it happen, to have the whites prove to be so callous and cruel after they had sought to convince him they were friendly, tore at him like the claws of a grizzly. “How could you?” he said to the one who had done the most convincing.

  “Stupid Injun,” Geist muttered. Lowering the bottle, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “She got what all your kind deserve.”

  “All Crows?”

  “No, you damned numbskull. Anyone with red skin.”

  Chases Rabbits almost shot him. He had been tricked, shamefully and terribly tricked, and now a Crow maiden was dead because of his mistake. He reached out to Raven On The Ground. “Take my hand.”

  She started to but put her hand to her head instead and groaned. “I think I am going to be sick.”

  “We must…” Chases Rabbits trailed off when a hard object was jammed low against his spine.

  “Not a twitch, redskin, or I’ll blow you in half,” Berber said.

  Chases Rabbits had made another mistake. He had failed to look behind him. He hesitated and was undone. Petrie was suddenly there, wrenching the rifle from his grasp and saying to the other whites, “Cover the windows and the doors.”

  “What for?” Gratt said.

  “When he was here last he was with the breed.”

  “Zach King?”

  Geist swung off the counter and drew a pistol. “Do as Petrie says. Gratt, you go watch the back door. Berber, keep your rifle on the simpleton.” He ran to the front door and opened it but only a hand’s width. “King!” he shouted. “Can you hear me out there?”

  Silence reigned, save for the whisper of Petrie’s boots as he glided to Geist’s side.

  “Zach King! I won’t ask you again! And in case you’re thinking you won’t answer me, I have your Injun friend and all of the women.”

  More silence.

  Chases Rabbits reached for Raven On The Ground, but Berber struck his arm with the rifle, sending pain and numbness from his elbow to his shoulder.

  “Don’t move.”

  Geist looked worried. “By God, I will shoot them one by one! So help me, I will!” He pointed his pistol at Raven On The Ground. “Starting with the prettiest.”

  From out of the darkness came, “I’m here. What do you want?”

  Geist smiled and winked at Petrie, but Petrie was grim. “Drop your weapons and walk in here with your hands in the air.”

  Zach laughed.

  “I wasn’t joshing about shooting her or any of the rest,” Geist threatened. “I’m a man of my word.”

  “Like hell you are. But I am.”

  “Meaning what?”

  When Zach answered, it was apparent he had changed position. “For every shot I hear, I’ll shoot one of your horses.”

  “Hell!” Dryfus blurted. “He does that, we’ll be sitting ducks for the Crows.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Geist snapped. “I’m trying to think.” He chewed on his lower lip, then yelled, “I’m not sending them out to you, if that’s what you’re expecting.”

  “All I care about is that they go on breathing.” Zach had changed position yet again.

  “Damn him,” Geist hissed. “He has us over a barrel.”

  “Only until daylight,” Petrie said.

  Geist glanced sharply at him, and nodded. Then he raised his voice once more. “All right, King. I won’t harm them so long as you don’t try anything. But if you shoot any of our animals, if I hear so much as one shot, I start the killing. You hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  Geist shut the door, leaned against it, and smiled. “L
isten up,” he said to the others. “Tie up Chases Rabbits and his girlfriend and put them in the storeroom with the rest. We’ll hunker down until first light.”

  “Then what?” Dryfus asked. “What can we do with him out there covering the place?”

  “You sound scared.”

  “I’ve been with you long enough, you know better,” Dryfus said.

  “King is just one man. That’s our edge. Come morning, I have a surprise in store for him. A surprise he’s not going to like one little bit.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Zach King was on his knees where the bank of the stream curved, fifty yards from the mercantile, when dawn splashed the eastern sky with color. He had been there most of the night, Blaze beside him.

  Zach smothered a yawn and ignored twinges of pain in his legs. Soon the sun would be up. With luck he would get a clear shot at Geist. Geist was their leader. Shoot him, and the rest might panic.

  Barring that, Zach was counting on Indians to show up, as they customarily did. If the first to arrive were Crows, he would enlist their help. If they were from another tribe, he would ask them to get word to the Crows. Either way, once reinforcements got there, the whites were as good as worm food.

  Zach saw movement inside. He took aim with the Hawken, but the window was too dark for him to make out targets. He raised his head from the rifle. He could be patient when he had to. He could be very patient.

  A blazing arch peeked above the world.

  Zach looked down and patted Blaze. When he looked up again, the front door was open. Instantly, he put his cheek to the Hawken.

  “King! You hear me?” Geist shouted.

  Zach didn’t respond.

  “King, damn it!”

  Zach still didn’t reply.

  “Fine. Maybe this will loosen your tongue.”

  Suddenly Chases Rabbits was in the doorway, his wrists bound. He was pushed and stumbled, but someone jerked on him from behind. He regained his balance and stood still.

  Geist’s face appeared above Chases Rabbits’s shoulder.

  Zach fixed a swift bead. His thumb on the Hawken’s hammer, he went to pull it back.

  Geist was glancing every which way, trying to spot him. “Take a good look, King!”

  Chases Rabbits turned sideways. Geist had a hand to the back of his neck. In his other hand, Geist held a cocked pistol to Chases Rabbits’s head.

  Zach uncurled his thumb.

  “This is how it’s going to go!” Geist hollered. “We’re leaving, and we’re taking your friends with us! We’ll have guns to their heads, and if you shoot, if you so much as throw a damn rock at us, we’ll blow their brains out!”

  Zach frowned. Geist was clever; by getting out of there as early as possible, the whites would have a good lead should Zach and any Crows come after them.

  “It’s up to you, King! I’ll kill every one of these red scum if you give me the slightest excuse! Don’t think I won’t.”

  Zach didn’t harbor any doubts there. He yearned to squeeze off a shot, but he had to crouch and do nothing as, one by one, Petrie, Dryfus, and Gratt came out with guns to the heads of Raven On The Ground, Lavender, and Flute Girl.

  Berber was last, his arms laden with rifles and supplies. They took turns boosting their captives onto horses and then climbed on their own mounts.

  Geist was beaming. Not once had he lowered his pistol from Chases Rabbits. He looked toward the hill and then around the hollow and shouted, “I know you can see me. So pay attention. We’re taking your friends. I’ll let them go as soon as I’m sure it’s safe. Tell the Crows so they don’t try anything.”

  Zach had never wanted to shoot someone so much.

  Geist tugged on the reins of the horse Chases Rabbits was on, and the whole bunch rode off into the rising sun. “Damn it,” Zach said, and stood. He had two choices. He could wait there for Crows to come, or he could follow them and attempt a rescue. Since Zach wasn’t about to trust Geist’s promise to release his captive friends, he hurried to his dun and mounted.

  Zach was passing the mercantile when he remembered an item in a glass display that would be of considerable help. Drawing rein, he alighted and ran inside. A lamp still burned on the counter. He had to go behind the case to open it. As he was taking the item out, he heard a thump and then a peculiar sort of scraping from somewhere in the back.

  Zach moved to the hall. At first the wriggling form on the floor blended into the shadows. Hurrying down, he squatted. “You.”

  Toad’s ankles and wrists were bound, and he had a gag in his mouth. He made sounds of distress through the gag.

  Zach removed it and threw it aside. “I thought you were one of them.”

  “I’m not an animal, thank you very much.” Toad waggled his arms. “Untie me, if you would be so kind.”

  “You heard everything?” Zach said as he pried at a knot.

  “Are you kidding? Geist gloated to me all night about how he was going to outwit you.”

  “I’m surprised they let you live.”

  “I have you to thank.”

  “What did I do?”

  “They were worried that if you heard a shot, you’d start killing the horses.”

  “They could have slit your throat.”

  Toad said, “You almost sound disappointed they didn’t.”

  “You brought them here.”

  “It was either that or be killed, and I’m enormously fond of breathing.”

  Zach loosened the last of the knots. Enough light had filtered down the hall to reveal that Toad’s face was a bruised and bloody mess. “Geist do that?”

  “He delights in the suffering of others. Make no mistake. He is unspeakably vicious. Your friends are as good as dead once they are of no further use to him.”

  “I know.”

  “What will you do?”

  “What else?” Zach King said. “I’m going to kill every last one of those sons of bitches.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chases Rabbits was in despair. He was a warrior. It was his duty to protect the women of his tribe. Yet here he was, bound and helpless, at the mercy of his enemies, unable to be of any help to the three women whose lives were in peril.

  Geist rode hard and fast. Again and again he looked back.

  After they had put a considerable distance between them and the mercantile, he slowed his horse to a walk and remarked, “I thought for sure he’d try to stop us.”

  “Stalking Coyote good friend,” Chases Rabbits said. “Him not do anything get us hurt.”

  “Is that his redskin name?” Geist said. “Let me tell you something, boy. I hope to God he comes after us. I truly and sincerely do. I have you and the women and four extra rifles, besides.”

  “Zach have Zach.”

  “That makes no kind of sense,” Geist said.

  The sun was at its zenith when they finally stopped alongside a stream.

  Chases Rabbits waited to be told whether he should slide off or not. The answer came in the form of Dryfus, who gripped him by the shirt and flung him roughly to the ground. His arm and ribs flared with pain, and he grunted.

  “Did that hurt?” Dryfus mockingly asked, and kicked him in the ribs.

  “Enough,” Geist said. “We need him in one piece when King catches up.”

  “I’d as soon gut all four of the vermin,” Dryfus said, but he lowered his foot.

  Chases Rabbits’s shame was compounded when the women were dumped next to him. It was almost more than he could bear to sit up and look into their haggard faces. “I am sorry for all you have endured.”

  “It is not your fault,” Raven On The Ground said.

  Flute Girl and Lavender appeared to disagree, but they said nothing.

  “We are still alive,” Raven On The Ground said. “So long as we breathe, there is hope.”

  Chases Rabbits’ love for her filled his whole chest. She had an indomitable spirit, this woman he adored. “We must be ready when Zach King comes. We mus
t do what we can to help him.”

  “Why should the half-breed risk his life for us?” Flute Girl asked. “He isn’t Apsaalooke.”

  “He is my friend,” Chases Rabbits said. He resented her calling Zach a half-breed, but he held his tongue.

  “Quit your jabbering,” Geist snapped. “You don’t talk unless I say you can. Tell the females.”

  After that there was nothing for Chases Rabbits to do but sit and wait for the whites to move on. He had been up all night and was tired to his marrow, but he refused to show it. He sat with his back straight, his head high. He decided that, if he lived through this, he would formally ask Raven On The Ground to be his wife. He would be hurt if she refused, but he wouldn’t blame her. She deserved a warrior of great influence, one who had counted many coup and owned many horses. His dream of being that warrior had been dashed by Geist’s brutal nature; his people were bound to hold Spotted Fawn’s death against him.

  A shadow fell across them, and Chases Rabbits squinted up into the face of the man he most wished to count coup on. “What you want?”

  “Ever been hog-tied?” Geist asked.

  “Me not know what that is.”

  “You will soon enough,” Geist said with a smirk. “I aim to use you as bait.”

  That the whites made no effort to hide their tracks didn’t surprise Zach. It would be pointless with him so close on their heels.

  They had made a beeline down the foothills to the prairie. Only twice had they stopped to rest, and each time briefly. Their mounts were still fresh enough, though, that on reaching the plain, they headed to the east at a trot.

  Zach matched their pace. He was in no rush to overtake them. Not in broad daylight on open ground. Once the sun went down—that was when he would close in. With most of the afternoon before him yet, he was content to stay far enough back that they wouldn’t spot him.

  At this time of year, the prairie was green with grass that would turn to mostly brown once the summer heat hit in all its searing force. Wildflowers grew in profusion and butterflies were everywhere. Grouse took wing at Zach’s approach, prairie dogs stood on top of their dens and whistled shrill alarms. Sparrows played and swallows swooped, and hawks and eagles ruled the higher sky.