Seed of Evil (12 page)

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 must 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.

When Zach first saw the dark spot in the grass, he
didn’t think much of it. An animal, he reckoned, an antelope or a lone buffalo. Then he saw how low to the ground it was, and that it was the color of buckskin. Drawing rein, he reached into his parfleche for the item he had helped himself to back at the mercantile.

The brass tube glistened in the bright sun as Zach unfolded the spyglass. He put his eye to the small end and fixed the large end on the distant figure. He took a moment to bring it into focus, then swore.

It was Chases Rabbits. Securely bound, the young Crow was on his knees, his head practically brushing the grass, held there by a rope around his neck that was tied to a stake. Another stake was attached to a rope around his ankles.

Zach lowered the spyglass. There was only one reason for Geist to leave Chases Rabbits out there like that. The devil of it was, trap or no trap, Zach had no choice but to go to his friend’s aid. He held on to the spyglass until he was several hundred feet out. Stopping again, he scanned the ground around Chases Rabbits, then shoved the telescope into the parfleche and rode on at a slow walk. He had the Hawken cocked, the stock on his thigh.

Chases Rabbits looked up. A gag prevented the young Crow from saying anything. Frantically bobbing his head, he uttered gurgling sounds.

Tense with the certainty of being ambushed, Zach gripped the Hawken in both hands and he slid down. “If they’re here, bob your head once for yes.”

Chases Rabbits’s chin rose and fell.

“How many? Bob once for each one.”

Chases Rabbits nodded—one time.

Zach was mystified. All he saw was flat ground.
There was nowhere for anyone to hide. He edged closer and Chases Rabbits made choking sounds and jerked his head in Zach’s direction.

Blaze was sniffing at the ground.

Zach looked down and saw that the grass was speckled with brown spots. He bent, and realized the brown was dirt.

The earth heaved upward. A swatch of grass six feet long and three feet wide was flung aside and out of the ground sprang Dryfus. Clutched in his right hand was a long-bladed knife and on his face was an expression of pure hatred.

Zach aimed and fired, but Dryfus swatted the barrel and the heavy ball smacked into the hole he had been lying in. Dryfus held on to the rifle, and wrenched. Zach let it go flying. Backpedaling, he streaked his hand to his bowie and swept the big knife up and out. Steel clashed on steel as he saved his throat from a savage cut. Dryfus snarled and came in fast, his blade a whirlwind. Zach dodged, parried, countered. He had considerable experience in knife-fighting, but so did his adversary. Their blades wove a glittering web of death. A mistake in this fight could be fatal. Dryfus sidestepped and speared his knife at Zach’s chest. Zach blocked, shifted, slashed, and scored, opening Dryfus’s sleeve and the flesh under it. But the cut had no effect other than to incite Dryfus into redoubling his efforts.

Stabbing and cleaving, they circled in one direction and then the other, both so intent on their duel that when the two of them stumbled over Chases Rabbits, their surprise was mutual. Zach came down on his side, and rolled. Dryfus landed on his back but was up in a bound and lancing his knife at Zach’s neck. A lightning dodge, a flick of Zach’s wrist,
and his bowie was buried to the hilt in Dryfus’s throat.

Only after the convulsions ceased did Zach yank the bowie out and wipe the blade clean on the dead man’s shirt. Quickly, he cut Chases Rabbits free from the stakes and removed the gag.

Spitting and coughing, Chases Rabbits slowly sat up. “Thank you. Me cannot move much. Arms, legs hurt.”

“They had you tied tight,” Zach said. “It cut off the circulation.”

“The what?”

“The flow of blood.” Zach slid the bowie into its sheath. He examined where the sod had been cut out and the hole dug to hide Dryfus. “I bet this was Geist’s doing.”

Chases Rabbits, rubbing his wrists and grimacing, nodded. “He much clever, that one.”

“Only four of them now,” Zach said.

“But they have women,” Chases Rabbits reminded him. “They have Raven On The Ground.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything to get the love of your life killed.”

“They blame me,” Chases Rabbits said sadly.

“Who does?”

“Flute Girl and Lavender. Maybe more of my people when hear of this.”

“Geist had most everyone fooled. He even had Toad hoodwinked. I’ll speak to your people for you, make it clear how two-faced Geist was.”

“Him have two faces?”

“It’s a white expression. It means a person who smiles at you and acts all friendly while at the same time he’s reaching behind you to stab you in the back.”

“That Geist,” Chases Rabbits agreed.

Zach stood and scanned the prairie. “Where did Dryfus leave his horse?”

“In old buffalo wallow, that way.” Chases Rabbits pointed, his lips compressed against the pain. “We go after them right away?”

“We sure as hell do.”

“Dryfus should have caught up with us by now.” Geist paced and glowered, his hands clasped behind his back, his fingers constantly flexing and un-flexing.

“He’s damn good with that knife of his,” Gratt said.

“From what I heard, so is Zach King.” Geist stopped and stared to the west and swore. “Lesson learned. The next time it will be two.”

“Why not all four of us?” Berber asked.

“Two will be enough.”

“You said that about Dryfus,” Berber said.

Geist stopped pacing and turned. “Something on your mind?”

“I’m just saying four is smarter than two.”

“Are you saying I’m dumb?”

Gratt glanced at Berber and gave a barely noticeable shake of his head.

“Yes,” Berber said. “I am.”

“You don’t say.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not bucking to take your place. I’m only saying that if this Zach King is as tough as everyone says, it might take all four of us and not just two.”

Geist walked up to Berber and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you have a point.” With his other hand, Geist drew a pistol and slammed it against Berber’s temple. Berber staggered, and Geist hit him
again, and then a third time. With a groan, Berber collapsed to his knees.

“And maybe if you ever talk back to me again, you’re dead as dead can be,” Geist said.

“Please,” Berber pleaded.

“Please what? Don’t hit you again?” Geist hefted the pistol, then jammed it under his belt. “You’re right. I need you in fighting shape for Zach King.”

“Let me try next,” Petrie said.

“Always save the best for last.” Geist grinned. “Or next to last.” He stepped to where the three Crow maidens lay on their sides, bound fast. “Ladies, I know you can’t understand a goddamned word I say, but I want you to know that after we take care of the half-breed, we’re going to celebrate by treating ourselves to you. Then we’re going to cut your hamstrings so you can’t walk and leave you for the wolves and the coyotes to finish off.”

Gratt was giving a wobbly Berber a hand up. “What’s the next trap going to be?”

“How would I know? I haven’t thought it up yet. Depends on the lay of the land.” Geist scratched his chin. “It has to be something the half-breed won’t expect, like that trick with the sod.”

Petrie had a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. “I see trees yonder. Could be a stream.”

Geist smiled. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Zach and Chases Rabbits drew rein well out of rifle range. Zach took the spyglass from his parfleche and swept the belt of vegetation for movement.

“Are them there?”

“I don’t see anyone. But it’s where I’d try next if I
was him.” Zach replaced the telescope and gigged the dun.

“Me much want to kill them,” Chases Rabbits said. He had Dryfus’s rifle, pistols, and knife. He had also appropriated the man’s ammo pouch and powder horn.

“Some folks deserve to die,” Zach said.

“Them bad people.”

“Whites would call it being our own judge and jury, but this isn’t the States.”

“Sorry?”

“Whites don’t believe in killing bad people outright. They put a bad man on what they call a trial, where one side says how bad he is and another side says he’s not as bad as everyone claims. Then a chief decides whether to throw him in an iron cage or hang him.”

“Apsaalooke banish bad men.”

Zach patted his rifle. “Quick and final is best. Then they can never cause you trouble again.”

The trees were a mix of cottonwoods and oaks. In places the brush was thick. A blue ribbon of water flowed as slow as molasses.

Tracks revealed where Geist and the others had stopped to let their horses drink and ridden on.

Chases Rabbits started to climb down.

“Wait,” Zach said.

“Something wrong?”

Zach raked his gaze over a patch of brambles. He had the sense that something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“We not take long,” Chases Rabbits chafed. “Raven On The Ground need us.”

“We won’t be any help to her if we’re dead.” Zach
looked at the brambles again. Few would choose it as a spot to hide, what with all the thorns. The center of the patch was especially dense, which would also discourage anyone from crawling in. Almost too dense, he thought, at the same moment that Blaze growled.

Details came into focus with sharp clarity—a squat form that seemed to be part of the brambles, but wasn’t; branches that were going every which way, when most grew straight up or at right angles to the main stems; and the dark eyes that were fixed on him with fierce intensity.

Zach snapped his Hawken up. In the brambles a gun boomed. He felt a searing shock to his shoulder, and then his right arm and fingers went numb. He lost his hold on the rifle. As it fell, he dove from the saddle and clawed at a pistol with his left hand. He heard another shot behind him, and Chases Rabbits cried out. The water rushed up to meet him. He came down hard, but the stream was a wet cushion. He managed to hold the pistol in the air so that it didn’t get wet. As he heaved to a knee, he pointed it at the form in the brambles and fired.

A few yards away, Chases Rabbits was thrashing in the stream and turning the water red.

“I’ve got you now, you stinking half-breed.”

Zach whirled.

Berber was on the bank, a smoking pistol in one hand, a cocked pistol in the other. He glanced at the brambles in fury. “You shot him, damn you.” Berber took aim. “Now it’s your turn.” He smiled, and then the top of his forehead exploded in a shower of skin, bone, and flesh, spattering in the stream and on Zach like so much grisly rain.

Hooves pounded, and from behind Berber appeared
a giant rider on a black bay, holding a smoking Hawken. He drew rein and stared down at Berber’s body and said, “I don’t much like it when someone tries to kill my son.”

“Pa!” Zach blurted.

Nate King swung down. “Are you hit?”

Zach examined his right shoulder and his arm and shook his head. “I don’t appear to be.” He snatched his rifle from the stream. A gouge on the stock explained the jolt and the numbness. The ball had struck the rifle instead of him.

“Thank God,” Nate said. “I’ve been riding like the devil to catch up to you.”

“You’ve been following us?”

“Your ma and your wife were worried and sent me to find you,” Nate explained. “I came on your trail and have been after you ever since.” He paused. “I had a talk with Toad. He told me everything.”

“There are only two left. If we ride hard, we can end this before the day is done.”

“I should have listened to you. You were right about them. I’m sorry.”

“Toad is decent enough.” Zach tried to wiggle his fingers, and found that some of the numbness was gone. “I reckon I won’t have a problem with him.”

“Remember me?” Chases Rabbits asked.

Father and son turned. The young Crow was sitting in waist-deep water. Blood trickled from under his hand, which was pressed to a wound high on his left shoulder.

“Let’s get you to dry land and I’ll have a look at that,” Nate said. He moved around behind Chases Rabbits and carefully helped him to his feet, then held him as they moved to the bank. He had the younger man sit and hunkered down beside him.

Chases Rabbits winced. “Berber shoot me in back.”

“It went clean through,” Nate said. “The bleeding has almost stopped. You were lucky.”

“Me not feel lucky.”

Blaze came up and sniffed Nate. The big man looked at him and said, “Will miracles never cease.”

Zach went to the brambles. Squatting, he peered in at the man sprawled on his belly. As he’d suspected, it was Gratt. Brambles covered Gratt’s clothes and were even in his hair. It must have hurt, all those thorns sticking in him, but it was good camouflage. “Geist’s idea, I bet,” Zach said to himself.

Chases Rabbits was pale and pasty. “Me not feel so good,” he remarked.

“I’ll bandage you,” Nate said. “In a couple of weeks you’ll be good as new.”

“No,” Chases Rabbits said. “Me never be new again.”