Beyond The Horizon (29 page)

Vance’s words did little to dispel Blade’s premonition of disaster. “What is it, Major? I haven’t heard of any attacks in the area. The Sioux are engaged in spring hunt and have little time for raiding.”

“It’s not Indians, Blade, at least I don’t think it is. It’s—” His words fell off when Lieutenant Goodman rode up to join them. It was all Blade could do to keep from seizing the man and squeezing the life out of him.

“Have the men fall out for a ten-minute rest,” Vance ordered crisply. Reluctantly, Goodman turned to carry out orders, leaving Blade and Vance alone.

“I feel the same way about the man,” Vance said, admiring Blade’s restraint. “Besides, we can trust no one except Colonel Greer. And even he isn’t aware of your position with the government. I’d like to keep it that way until we catch the culprit who is smuggling guns across the prairie.” Vance dismounted. “Walk with me out of earshot and I’ll explain.”

They walked to a rocky ledge where Vance stood shuffling his feet and staring off into space. He knew Blade would be devastated to learn Shannon had been abducted, and he wanted to break it to him gently. But Blade would have none of it.

“All right, Wade, spit it out. What aren’t you telling me?” Suddenly Blade froze, his bronze features drained of all color. He knew! He
knew!
“It’s Shannon, isn’t it? Something has happened to Shannon.”

Amazed at Blade’s perception, Vance nodded, his face grim. “Shannon is missing, Blade. A search was organized as soon as I learned of it. She is nowhere in the fort.”

“Did you question Clive Bailey?” Blade asked, his heart pounding furiously. He blamed himself for telling her about his investigation and Clive Bailey’s involvement, even though she had more or less forced the truth from him.

“Bailey is missing also,” Vance revealed. “That’s not all. The night before she was discovered missing, Shannon came to see me. Said she had something urgent to discuss. I could only assume it concerned Bailey. Unfortunately I was in a staff meeting and couldn’t leave.

“I sent her home, telling her I’d see her later that evening. But when I arrived, her house was dark. I assumed she had grown tired of waiting and retired for the night. I left, but returned early the next morning. Her house was empty and her bed hadn’t been slept in.”

“Do you think Bailey has her?” Blade asked fearfully. For a man who didn’t frighten easily, he was scared out of his wits. “Wouldn’t he suspect he’d be under suspicion?”

“Bailey has no reason to believe he is suspected of anything,” Vance responded. “When he returns, I’ve no doubt he’ll have a good explanation for his absence. He often visits nearby Indian villages to trade. Do you have any idea where he’d take Shannon?”

“If Shannon learned something to connect him to gun smuggling, he might just decide to kill her,” Blade said, choking on his words. “Is there any possibility that Mad Wolf might have taken Shannon? When he wants something bad enough he rarely gives up.”

“I’ve thought of that, but no one has seen him this past winter, though he might have returned to the summer hunting grounds by now. Do you know where his camp is located?”

“No, but it will be in a place well hidden and not easily accessible. I think we should operate under the assumption that Bailey has Shannon and try to pick up his tracks. Who is doing the tracking?”

“Lieutenant Goodman, and he’s doing a damn poor job of it,” Vance complained disgustedly.

“I’ll take over,” Blade said. He did not ask permission but accepted responsibility on his own. “The sooner we get started the better. But I promise you one thing, Wade, if Bailey has Shannon and he’s harmed even one hair on her head, I’ll derive great pleasure from killing him.”

Released from the gunny sack once they were well away from the fort, Shannon now rode behind Clive, her hands bound securely around his waist and her gag still firmly in place. Thank God Clive had seen fit to remove her blindfold, Shannon reflected gratefully. They rode almost continuously through the night, stopping for two hours near dawn to rest the horse and allow Clive a brief nap. Shannon was left tied to a tree, unable to move or speak.

“I suggest you get some sleep,” Clive hinted nastily, “for tomorrow you’ll belong to Mad Wolf and there will be little enough rest for you after that. Hell, I’m hoping he’ll let me have a poke for bringing you to him. I’d take you here and now except I need some sleep and we’re not far enough from the fort for me to relax.”

Though Shannon couldn’t speak, her blue eyes flashed her hatred for her captor, her revulsion, her utter contempt. But her furious glances slid off him like water off a duck’s back. Tossing a blanket over her, Clive rested his head on his saddle and promptly fell asleep. They were on their way again shortly after sun-up.

Clive knew exactly where he was going, having been to Mad Wolf’s encampment before. He only hoped the renegade would be there and not off somewhere raiding. Clive was reluctant to kill Shannon himself, but if it came to that he would suffer no guilt over performing the deed. He needn’t have worried. Mad Wolf was at his encampment along with a dozen or so of his followers.

Mad Wolf’s eyes widened in astonishment when he saw Clive Bailey ride in with Little Firebird bound and gagged behind him. He waited outside his tipi until Clive halted before him, untied Shannon’s arms from around his waist and dismounted, dragging Shannon behind down him. He waited for Mad Wolf to speak first, not wishing to anger the hot-headed renegade. Mad Wolf’s piercing black eyes never left Shannon’s face as he addressed Clive in halting English.

“Why have you brought Little Firebird to my camp?” He knew but wanted to hear it from Clive’s lips. Mad Wolf felt nothing but contempt for the trader, aware that a greedy man like Clive Bailey would betray his own mother if the price was right.

“I thought you wanted her,” Clive answered, licking his lips nervously. Indians made him edgy, especially renegades like Mad Wolf. “I went to great trouble to bring Shannon Branigan to you. I expect to be rewarded accordingly.”

“Have you harmed her?”

“I haven’t touched her, you can see for yourself she is in perfect condition. You promised me gold if I brought her to you.”

“We will smoke first, then you will have your gold,” Mad Wolf said haughtily. “Bring the woman.” He turned and entered his tipi, leaving Clive no choice but to follow. Grasping Shannon’s arm, he pulled her after him.

Blade, I need you!
Shannon silently implored. Just thinking Blade’s name gave her a shot of courage. He rescued her once from Mad Wolf, perhaps … But no, Blade was miles from here, helping his grandfather hold their tribe together. He had no way of knowing she needed him. Shannon knew what Mad Wolf planned for her couldn’t be pleasant, but somehow she would survive. Somehow she and Blade would be reunited. But would he still want her after Mad Wolf had defiled her?

Once inside the tipi, Shannon was shoved rudely to the ground. She felt hands fiddling with her gag and looked up to see Mad Wolf pulling the offending material from her mouth. “Water,” she croaked, desperate to wet her parched throat. The gag hadn’t been removed since she left the fort.

Mad Wolf grunted, handing her a skin pouch holding water. She raised it to her lips and drank greedily. When she had drank her fill she set the pouch down and faced Mad Wolf squarely. “I won’t stay here. This—this slimy toad can’t sell me. He doesn’t own me, no one owns me.”

“Quiet, woman, or I will bind your mouth again.” Then he promptly ignored Shannon as he regarded Clive Bailey through shrewd black eyes.

“What is your price for the woman, Trader?”

Never had Shannon felt so degraded as when they discussed her attributes in terms that made her cheeks flame. After several minutes they struck a bargain, settling on a sum that brought a gasp to Shannon’s lips. Where would Mad Wolf get so much gold? She was stunned beyond words when Bailey boldly asserted, “I want the woman one time before I sell her to you. It’s part of the deal. Either I have her or no deal.”

Mad Wolf’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I could kill you here and now and keep both Little Firebird and the gold.”

“But you won’t,” Clive stated smugly. “Who will supply you with guns if I’m dead? By now you should be low on ammunition. I have plenty at my store.”

Mad Wolfs hardened features showed none of the utter contempt and hatred he felt for Bailey. He’d kill him in a flash if he didn’t need what the trader could give him. As for Little Firebird, he no longer wished to make her his wife. She had scorned him, a great warrior, and bedded a half-breed instead. He still wanted her; just looking at her swelled his loins with lust. He’d have Little Firebird, oh yes—as his whore. And this time he’d share her with his friends. The trader wanted her too. And unless Mad Wolf wished to halt the supply of arms and ammunition at a time when they were essential to their survival, he must grant the trader’s request, though it galled him to do so.

“You may have Little Firebird, trader, for one night,” Mad Wolf conceded grudgingly. “Then she is ours.”

“No!” Shannon howled, rage rendering her incautious as she surged to her feet and charged a thoroughly startled Mad Wolf.

The Indian’s reaction was swift and vicious as he raised his arm and backhanded Shannon, putting his considerable strength behind the blow. Shannon went flying. Dazed and hurt, she lay in a limp heap against the tipi wall.

Abruptly Mad Wolf stood. “Come,” he said to Bailey, who stared at Shannon as if he wanted to fall on her immediately and ravish her. “First we will drink white man’s whiskey, then you can have your fill of the woman.”

“But I want her now,” Bailey whined, rubbing his swollen crotch in an obscene manner. “I don’t know if I can wait.”

“White men! Pah!” Mad Wolf snorted derisively. “You are all weak, sniveling creatures with no restraint, no willpower. We will drink first, then we will all have the woman. Come, the whiskey is good. It was taken during our last raid.”

Bailey knew better than to argue. Eventually he’d have Shannon; it cost him little to humor Mad Wolf. Slanting Shannon a glance ripe with salacious promise, he followed the renegade from the tipi.

Reeling dizzily, Shannon knew her time was growing short. After Bailey used her, Mad Wolf and his friends would defile her body, perhaps even kill her if she resisted.
Blade! Blade!
she cried out in silent supplication.
Nothing they do to me will change the way I feel about you.

While Shannon cringed in terror inside the tipi, Mad Wolf and his warriors sat in a circle passing bottles of whiskey back and forth and getting drunk. Even Bailey felt tipsy, but not too inebriated to forget about the woman waiting for him inside the tipi. Suddenly he reeled to his feet. “Enough!” His face was set in determination, his voice harsh with impatience. “I want the woman and I want her now.” He staggered toward the tipi, noting with satisfaction that Mad Wolf made no move to stop him.

Mad Wolf merely grunted in response, too sated with whiskey to care. Soon Little Firebird would be at the complete disposal of him and his warriors. What did it matter when the trader took her?

With a careless wave of his hand, Bailey dismissed the guard Mad Wolf had placed in front of the tipi and entered, closing the flap behind him.

“Don’t touch me, you vile bastard!” Shannon spat as Bailey stalked her. “Blade will kill you for this.”

“Swift Blade! Bah! I should have known that savage couldn’t keep his filthy hands off you. You let him poke you and here I thought you were so damn innocent. Now you’ll find out how it feels to have a real man between your legs.”

“I’m not going to make it easy for you,” Shannon warned, preparing for the fight of her life.

“That’s just the way I like it,” Bailey responded, grinning viciously as he removed the rope from his belt and walked slowly toward her.

“Do you see either Bailey or Shannon?” Major Vance hissed in a low voice.

Due entirely to Blade’s expert tracking, the patrol found Mad Wolfs encampment. It was cleverly located in a tall stand of cottonwood trees beside a bubbling creek below a ridge of rolling hills. It came as no surprise when Bailey’s tracks led them directly to Mad Wolfs camp. Blade, Vance, and the patrol were huddled behind one of the ridges above the encampment, looking down on the renegades and circle of tipis.

“No, but one of the horses tethered with the Indian ponies is shod,” Blade whispered in response. “We can only assume that Bailey is here somewhere, perhaps in one of the tipis.”

They exchanged uneasy glances, both aware of what that statement meant in regard to Shannon but neither willing to give voice to their fears.

“They’re drunk,” Vance observed, nodding toward the Indians below.

“You’re right, Wade,” Blade concurred. “They’re probably drinking whiskey stolen from wagon trains they raided. Signal your men. We won’t find a better time to attack. I owe that bastard, and if he’s harmed Shannon, I’ll—”

Suddenly a piercing scream rent the air. Blade spat out an oath, his face grim, his eyes wild with fear.

The Indians merely laughed among themselves, exchanging knowing leers as they glanced toward the tipi that Bailey had just entered. Blade surged to his feet. Nothing or no one could stop him now.

“I’m going in.”

Vance was close on Blade’s heels, signaling his men to follow. Lieutenant Goodman was only a few steps behind. Mad Wolf and his renegades never had a chance. Seated around the campfire, they had consumed large quantities of whiskey and lolled about in a drunken stupor when the soldiers came howling down from the surrounding hills.