Then they came upon the unthinkable.
Nate King was in the lead, tracking. Drawing quick rein, he said, “Dear God, no.”
Zach was next. His countenance conveyed what his silence did not.
Blaze stopped and sniffed.
Chases Rabbits was almost on top of the sprawled body before he saw it. That it was a woman was obvious. It wasn’t big enough to be Flute Girl. It had to be one of the other two.
“No!” Chases Rabbits cried. Vaulting down, he rolled the body over. “Lavender,” he said, relieved.
“They shot her in the face,” Nate said. “Must have been near point-blank range. Look at the powder burns.”
Chases Rabbits didn’t care about that. All he cared about was that it wasn’t Raven On The Ground. He felt guilty for being so glad. “Why they kill her?”
“Their kind don’t need an excuse,” Zach said. “Maybe it’s to get back at us for Dryfus, Gratt, and Berber.”
A new fear coursed through Chases Rabbits. “Maybe they kill Raven On The Ground, too.”
“They haven’t yet,” Nate said, “or we’d have come across her body.”
“We must hurry,” Chases Rabbits urged, and was on his pinto and trotting to the east. The Kings came up on either side.
“Better slow down,” Zach warned. “This could be just what they want.”
“For us to rush after them into their gun sights,” Nate added.
“Me not care,” Chases Rabbits declared.
“You should if you love her. We’re her only hope.”
Every fiber of his being screamed for him to ride like the wind, but Chases Rabbits slowed the pinto to a walk. “There. Happy?”
“Don’t take it out on us,” Zach said. “We didn’t steal your one and only.”
Chases Rabbits had not sulked since he was small, but he sulked now. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
A series of hills appeared, broken by bluffs and patches of woods. They spooked a few deer, but Chases Rabbits hardly noticed. In his mind, he saw only Raven On The Ground’s face, floating in the air and beckoning him to hurry. “Me kill Geist for this,” he vowed.
“You’ll have to get in line,” Zach said.
Chases Rabbits refused to be denied his coup. “Him not take your woman. Him take mine.”
“We all have a stake in this,” Nate said. “The mountains are our home. Anyone who poses a danger to one of us is a threat to all.”
Chases Rabbits had to think for the right word. “This personal.”
“I get the chance, he’s dead,” Zach said.
A bluff reared ahead, its face split by cracks.
Nate reined up. “Do you see what I see?”
“What?” Chases Rabbits asked.
Zach produced his spyglass. He trained it on the bluff, and swore.
“What?” Chases Rabbits said a second time.
“Take a gander,” Zach said, handing him the brass tube. “But keep hold of yourself.”
“What you mean?” Chases Rabbits asked, and pressed the spyglass to his eye.
“Turn it a bit if you can’t see clearly.”
Chases Rabbits saw a blur. He fiddled with the end, and the bluff came into focus. So did the two figures wedged into cracks, their long hair loose and spilling over their shoulders. It was Raven On The Ground and Flute Girl. They were bound and naked.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Zach was reaching for the spyglass when Chases Rabbit let out a war whoop and slapped it against the pinto. “Don’t!” Zach cried.
Pumping his rifle in the air and yipping, Chases Rabbits charged toward the bluff.
“Consarn it. He’ll get us all killed.” Nate charged after him.
Zach slapped his legs and reined to the right, then to the left. High on the bluff, a rifle boomed and a leaden wasp buzzed his ear, missing by a whisker’s width. Bending, he lashed the reins. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed his father swing on the offside of the bay. He did likewise on the dun.
Chases Rabbits, though, continued to charge straight ahead and was almost to the bluff when a blast from a cleft sent him catapulting backward over the pinto’s rump.
Zach let go of the reins and dropped. He was in waist-high grass and hidden from the shooter in the cleft, if not from the rifleman on the bluff. As if to confirm it, a shot cracked from up high and dirt kicked into the air a few inches from his face. He crabbed into thicker grass. The shooter in the cleft must have spotted him, because another shot clipped stems close to his head. He heard his pa’s bay galloping around the bluff, and figured his pa was going after the rifleman.
A low groan fluttered on the breeze. It had to be Chases Rabbits, but there was nothing Zach could do for him until he dealt with the killers. Wisps of gun smoke told him which cleft the shooter was in, and when a shadow moved, Zach reared up and fired. The shadow pulled back.
Zach reloaded. Whoever was on top of the bluff had stopped shooting at him, no doubt to deal with his pa. He fought down a bout of worry. His pa could take care of himself.
“You hear me out there, boy?” Geist yelled.
The man did love to talk, Zach thought, as he tamped the patch and ball down the barrel with the ramrod.
“No need to answer. The important thing is that you listen.”
Zach wondered how Geist had lasted so long, with the mistakes he made.
“I want you to stand up where I can see you, with your hands in the air.”
Zach almost laughed.
“If you don’t, your friend’s sweetheart dies. I planted a keg of black powder at her feet. All I have to do is light the fuse, and she’s a goner.”
Zach didn’t recall seeing any kegs of black powder at the mercantile—but there could have been.
“I’ll count to five, boy, and then it’s all over for her,” Geist hollered.
Zach slid the ramrod into its housing and took aim at the cleft Geist was in.
“One.”
Both Raven On The Ground and Flute Girl appeared to be unconscious.
“Two.”
Zach debated firing even though he couldn’t see him. The slug might ricochet and score.
“Three.”
Zach coiled his legs under him but didn’t show himself.
“I thought you liked that simpleton,” Geist said. “Or is it that the squaw means nothing to you?” He paused. “Four.”
Zach’s every instinct was to stay put. Instead, he laid the Hawken on the ground and rose with his arms overhead. “Don’t kill her.”
From the cleft came a cackle. Geist stepped out, a burning lucifer in one hand, a pistol in the other. “Well, now. I honestly thought you’d let me do it.” He blew on the lucifer. “Tell me true. Dryfus, Gratt, and Berber, are they dead?”
“Dead as dead can be.”
“Damn, you are a hellion. Any last words before I squeeze the trigger?”
“The war party will be here soon,” Zach said, and took a step.
“What are you talking about?” Geist peered past Zach to the west. “What war party?”
“About a dozen Crows.” Zach took another step. “They showed up at the mercantile as I was heading out. We split up to cover more ground, but they were bound to have heard the shots.”
“You’re lying.”
“Suit yourself. But I sure wouldn’t want to be in your boots when they get their hands on you.” Again Zach edged forward.
“I have the squaws.”
“You disgraced those girls. The warriors might figure they’re better off dead.” Zach advanced another stride. He was close enough; he might take a slug, but he mustn’t let it stop him.
“I hate those damn Crows almost as much as I hate you. Their women aren’t the whores I thought they were.”
“You made the same mistake a lot of whites do,” Zach said, and took another step for good measure. “You think Indians are inferior. You think they’re animals. That they’re nothing but savages. But most of them are smar
t, and decent human beings.”
“Don’t lecture me, boy,” Geist snapped. He was still scouring the terrain to the west for any sign of the war party.
“People are people. They might dress different, and talk different, and eat different, but that doesn’t make them less than you.”
“I said no lectures!”
“How about I just kill you,” Zach said, and sprang. Geist thrust his flintlock out to shoot, but Zach swatted it. The gun went off, but the barrel was pointing down. Zach got hold of Geist’s wrist. Geist cursed and punched Zach on the chin. It hurt, but Zach stayed on his feet and slugged back.
There was a flash and puff of smoke, followed by a loud hiss.
Zach glanced down. Geist hadn’t been lying; there was a fuse, and it had somehow ignited. Sparks and smoke were rippling along it toward Raven On The Ground. At her feet was a small keg with the other end of the fuse attached. Zach let go and turned to try to stomp the fuse out, but Geist slammed the spent pistol against his temple while flinging out a leg and tripping him. Zach fell to his knees. Before he could rise, Geist was behind him, his boots on either side, the pistol against his throat. Zach’s breath was choked off as Geist, holding the pistol in both hands, sought to throttle the life from him.
Zach pried at the flintlock. He tore at Geist’s hands, but they were vises. All the while, the fuse crackled and hissed, and the sparks were that much closer to Raven On The Ground.
Out of nowhere, a four-legged form appeared. Snarling and biting, Blaze tore at Geist’s leg.
The pressure on Zach’s throat eased as Geist twisted to confront the new threat.
Zach swooped his hand to his hip and drew his bowie. He cleared the sheath and drove the tip down into Geist’s boot and was rewarded with a shriek. He streaked his other hand to his waist and jerked a pistol even as he twisted around. Geist’s head was thrown back, his mouth wide open in a howl. Zach rammed the muzzle of the pistol between Geist’s teeth and fired. The top of Geist’s head spewed hair and brain matter.
Whirling, Zach scrambled toward the sputtering fuse. It was barely a foot from the keg. He slashed with his bowie, but cut the fuse behind the sparks, not in front of them. The fuse was still burning. He threw himself forward and arced the big knife down. The sparks finally fizzled, scarcely inches from disaster.
Winded, and every muscle aching, Zach leaned against the bluff. The wolf’s nose touched his cheek, and it licked his neck. “Blaze,” he said softly.
High above, someone screamed.
The horses were hidden on the far side of the bluff. Near them was a game trail to the top.
Nate King drew rein and was off his bay while it was still in motion. He raced up the slope, dreadfully aware that every second of delay increased the chances of his son being slain. He wasn’t concerned for himself, only for Zach. He pumped his legs like steam engine pistons and flew over the top with his Hawken to his shoulder, but there was no one to shoot—he saw grass and brush and a few boulders, but that was all.
Nate took several more steps. Metal glinted beside a boulder, and he flattened as a rifle went off. He felt a tug on the whangs of his buckskins. Rolling, he came up next to the boulder, and next to Petrie, who had dropped his rifle and was grabbing for his pistols. Nate rammed the Hawken’s stock into Petrie’s gut. That would double most men over, but all Petrie did was grunt and take a step back. There wasn’t space for Nate to level his rifle, so he swung it at Petrie’s legs. With a nimble bound, Petrie leaped up and over while simultaneously unlimbering his flintlocks. Nate threw the Hawken at Petrie’s face, but Petrie ducked under it. Nate lunged and tackled him. They grappled and rolled. Nate was a lot bigger, but Petrie was solid muscle. Suddenly Petrie had a hand free. He pointed a pistol at Nate’s face and fired. Nate jerked his head aside, barely dodging the bullet. The blast sent pain up his ear, and his hearing dimmed. Petrie clubbed him and his vision swam. They rolled to a stop with Petrie on top.
Nate’s head cleared. His right hand closed around the handle of his tomahawk. He jabbed a finger at Petrie’s eye, but the man shifted and the finger missed. Petrie was focused on avoiding the jab, as he had intended, and Nate took advantage of Petrie’s distraction to sweep the tomahawk up and around. The edge bit into Petrie’s head behind the ear and cleaved skin and flesh and bone as a knife would cleave wax. Blood spurted. Petrie stiffened and screamed like a stricken bobcat, a high, piercing cry of denial and disbelief, and then his body collapsed atop Nate’s.
Nate pushed the body off. He slowly rose, his side sore, his shoulder throbbing. He moved to the edge and gazed down at his son, who was gazing up. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, Pa. Blaze saved me. You?”
“As soon as I get my tomahawk out of his head, I’ll be right down.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Half a moon had passed.
Chases Rabbits lay on a buffalo robe, his head and shoulder bandaged, and gazed forlornly at the smoke rising through the hole at the top of the lodge. The flap was open so anyone could enter, and someone did.
Other than a few fading bruises on her face and neck, Raven On The Ground showed no sign of the ordeal they had been through. She came and knelt beside him, placing her hand on his arm. “How do you feel?”
“I heal slowly.”
“Maybe because you think that you do not have a reason to heal fast.”
“I have disgraced myself in the eyes of our people,” Chases Rabbits said. “When I am up and about, they will shun me.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Two women died because of me.”
“The whites with no hearts killed them, not you.”
“They made a fool of me.”
“They fooled Grizzly Killer and Stalking Coyote, too. But now they are dead, and the trading post is still there. The man they call Toad has sent word that he still wants to trade with us.”
“Toad has a good heart.”
“So do you.” Raven On The Ground clasped his hand. “The council has decided. They would like for you to be the mouth of the Apsaalooke.”
“After the shame I have brought?”
“Grizzly Killer has talked to Long Hair and the others. He has told them how even though you had been shot, you tried to save Flute Girl and me. He says you have as much courage as anyone.”
“Grizzly Killer is a good friend.”
“Your shame is only in your own head. The rest of us forgive you. You must forgive yourself. You can start by taking a wife.”
Chases Rabbits started to rise, and winced. “You would want a man like me?”
“I want no other.” Raven On The Ground grasped both of his hands and held them to her bosom. “What do you say? Will you take me as your wife, or do I need to seek a husband elsewhere?”
“Here is good,” Chases Rabbits said.
The Wilderness series:
#1: KING OF THE MOUNTAIN
#2: LURE OF THE WILD
#3: SAVAGE RENDEZVOUS
#4: BLOOD FURY
#5: TOMAHAWK REVENGE
#6: BLACK POWDER JUSTICE
#7: VENGEANCE TRAIL
#8: DEATH HUNT
#9: MOUNTAIN DEVIL HAWKEN FURY (GIANT EDITION)
#10: BLACKFOOT MASSACRE
#11: NORTHWEST PASSAGE
#12: APACHE BLOOD
#13: MOUNTAIN MANHUNT
#14: TENDERFOOT
#15: WINTERKILL
#16: BLOOD TRUCE
#17: TRAPPER’S BLOOD
#18: MOUNTAIN CAT
#19: IRON WARRIOR
#20: WOLF PACK
#21: BLACK POWDER
#22: TRAIL’S END
#23: THE LOST VALLEY
#24: MOUNTAIN MADNESS
#25: FRONTIER MAYHEM
#26: BLOOD FEUD
#27: GOLD RAGE
#28: THE QUEST
#29: MOUNTAIN NIGHTMARE
#30: SAVAGES
#31: BLOOD KIN
#32: THE WESTWARD TIDE
> #33: FANG AND CLAW
#34: TRACKDOWN
#35: FRONTIER FURY
#36: THE TEMPEST
#37: PERILS OF THE WIND
#38: MOUNTAIN MAN
#39: FIREWATER
#40: SCAR
#41: BY DUTY BOUND
#42: FLAMES OF JUSTICE
#43: VENGEANCE
#44: SHADOW REALMS
#45: IN CRUEL CLUTCHES
#46: UNTAMED COUNTRY
#47: REAP THE WHIRLWIND
#48: LORD GRIZZLY
#49: WOLVERINE
#50: PEOPLE OF THE FOREST (GIANT EDITION)
#51: COMANCHE MOON
#52: GLACIER TERROR
#53: THE RISING STORM
#54: PURE OF HEART
#55: INTO THE UNKNOWN
#56: IN DARKEST DEPTHS
#57: FEAR WEAVER
#58: CRY FREEDOM
#59: ONLY THE STRONG
#60: THE OUTCAST
#61: THE SCALP HUNTERS
#62: THE TEARS OF GOD
#63: VENOM
#64: DEVIL MOON
Copyright
A LEISURE BOOK®
September 2010
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2010 by David L. Robbins
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0930-6
Seed of Evil Page 13
