Eagle People (7 page)

“She cut his throat.” Byron said as he squatted by the old man's body.

“No, a stick was used first to his eye to distract him, and all his other wounds were done to shorten his yells or screams. When she struck his nose, his death quickly followed. Parts of his nose entered his brain and death was fast.”

“Then why'd she cut his throat?”

“To make sure he remained dead. The Eagle People always cut the throats of those they kill, because they will no longer have to worry about that person. They know beyond a doubt the victim is dead.”

“How can you know this? I mean how Ninian was killed.”

Shaking his head and growing frustrated, Asa said, “Why in the hell would she cut his throat, stab him the eye and neck, and then bust his nose all to pieces? Look while using your brain and not just your eyes. Think. This killer has been well trained to kill and when we catch them, we'll see how strong they are when tied to the fire poles with flames licking at their skin. Gather up ten men and go after them, and do it now.”

Nodding, Byron said, “As you wish. I will try to bring them back alive.”

“No, you will not
try
to return them alive, you
will
bring them back alive. We must show the Eagle People and our own People we will avenge the death of our shaman. I don't care is it costs you all of your men, bring them back alive.”

“I will do what you ask.” He turned to leave.

“Take your pistol and enough ammunition to down their horses. We must extract reprisal for this, or The Wolf People will think we are weak and cannot protect our clan. Now go.”

Four hours later, they were following the easy to read tracks of the horses, when the tracker, a warrior named Ora said, “The tracks have disappeared in this stream. It has been some time back, maybe four hours or more, because the movement of the water has smoothed the tracks out.”

“Do you suppose they have gone up or down stream?”

“Most move upstream and by going down stream, they'd travel south, and so far they've headed west. I think they'll move up stream a few miles and when they leave the water, they'll move west again.”

Ora said, “As we follow the stream north, all of you pay attention, and we'll spot where they left the water. Then we'll pick up their trail again easily enough. Depending on how far they are ahead of us, the bank may be wet or dry, so look for tracks, not water.”

Hours later, a warrior called Alonzo said, “I see tracks here, but they disappear after a few feet.”

“Disappear?” Byron asked and then said, “That's impossible.”

“Stay where you are and let me check their sign.” Ora said. He dismounted, made his way to the tracks, and looked them over closely. Finally, smiling, he said, “One of them is very smart. I can't be sure, but the hooves of their horses look to have been covered with buckskin or hide. They still leave tracks, only they're faint as hell.”

“What now?” Byron asked, worried the two might get away and he'd have to admit failure to Asa.

“It's not likely the coverings will last long, so look for any sign, such as horse apples, scuff marks in the soil, or bent grasses. We can still trail them, just not as quickly now.”

A few miles later,  Alonzo said, “I see some leather in the grasses here, but just one piece, and the tracks are easy to read too.”

Byron, thinking it would be easier now, said, “Alonzo, you take point and Ezra, you drop back on drag. I wouldn't be surprised if the woman shot an arrow or two into our main group, because she's smart. As we ride, keep your eyes open for any movement. An hour before dusk, I want our point man to select a good place to spend the night and wait for us to catch up. It'll be a cold camp tonight, too.”

Alonzo moved out about a hundred meters and started following the tracks. He wasn't real worried about a woman, because the Wolf People had very few women warriors and he didn't accept this one as his equal. The tracks led through a small grove of mixed trees and he kept his eyes scanning the countryside, expecting an arrow from the trees any second. His eyes should have been on the trail.

He heard a loud
twang
, felt something hit him in the chest, and his horse stopped moving. He looked down to see he'd ridden into a limb, or had he? Pain abruptly began to radiate up his neck and he gave a loud piteous scream, both of fear and pain. His hands were now on the sharpened stakes, feeling the stickiness of his own blood, as well as the texture of the wood. He watched crimson flow down his chest to his stomach, only to collect on his crude saddle. The sweet coppery smell of his blood filled the air. His scream was now continuous, the pain growing.

“Move forward and do the job now! Spread out and keep your eyes open. The women are to be taken alive.” Byron said, expecting Alonzo had taken an arrow.

At first Byron thought the warrior has ridden into a limb, until he saw the bloody sharpened stakes protruding from his back. Alonzo was no longer screaming, but whimpering like a wounded animal.
His lungs are injured, so he'll die,
Byron thought.

Nearing the man, the leader said, “His wound is fatal.”

“H . . . help me.” the wounded man pleaded with both his voice and eyes.

The men gathered around and one asked, “What in the hell kind of trap is that one?”

“It's ancient, and the old Indians of the 1800's used them all the time.”Ora said and then added, “Tension keeps the limb pulled back until the trip wire is thrown, then the limb swings forward to impale anyone in it's path. It's a simple, but deadly device.”

“Hel . . .p me.” Blood was now running from the wounded man's mouth, nose and ears. A wheezing sound was heard when he spoke and his body was shaking.

Byron rode to the man's side and pulled his skinning knife. He grabbed Alonzo's hair and pulled his head back as the man pleaded, “Help . . . me.  Don't kill —”

The blade flashed once and a fountain of blood shot high into the air. Alonzo began to cough, his eyes grew large, and a few seconds later the light in his pupils died. His body gave a mighty quiver as he died.

Turning to his men, Byron said, “His injury was fatal and there was absolutely no hope. Now, Lum, remove any gear on his body, all of it. Seth, once the gear from his body has been removed, take his horse and supplies. We're wasting time.”

The horse was skittish from the smell of blood and after pulling her out from under the man, Alonzo remained suspended a foot or so above the ground by the limb. Seth then pulled an old shirt from the dead man's gear and wiped the blood from the saddle.

It was then another scream was heard behind them, and all knew Ezra had trouble on his hands.

“Move to the drag man and do the job now.” Byron ordered, and then kicked his horse into a gallop.  

When they neared Ezra, he was holding his bow, arrow ready, and he swung his weapon toward the approaching group. When he recognized his friends, he lowered the weapon.

Byron shook his head. Ezra had three arrow wounds, but none looked to be fatal.
This was done on purpose, to slow us down; well, by God, it'll not work,
the leader thought.
I can't kill this one, because he's not fatally injured, but we can make a travois and take him with us.

They all dismounted and then Ora asked, “What happened?”

“Ambushed. What happened with Alonzo on point?”

“He's dead, and killed by a trap. None of your injuries are fatal, so do you think you can ride?”

“She tried to kill me. Ride? Hell no, not hurting like I am.”

“We'll let you have some of the whiskey or marihuana we took from the Eagle People, if you think it'll kill your pain.”

“I ain't much of a smoker or drinker, but right now I'll try anything.” he replied through clenched teeth. “If we can kill the pain enough, I might be able to ride.”

Byron said, “Give him two cups of whiskey right now, and then we'll remove the arrows. I want the rest of you mutton heads to establish some sort of security to prevent her from injuring more of us.  She didn't want you dead, Ezra, but injured, so we'd have to take the time to doctor you. She's as cunning as a wolf.”

As the men circled the injured man, Byron said, “Ora, remove the arrows and once they're out, feed him two more cups of whiskey and let him smoke two pipes of the weed. I don't like how the weed or alcohol makes me feel, but both do help with pain. You might be forced to cut the arrowheads out.”

The tracker laughed and said, “I've pulled my share of arrows out of folks, so relax. I know what to do, but Ezra may not care for the treatment much.”

“You just do the job, you old fool, and I'll handle the pain if you give me the medicine.”

Ora pulled the whiskey from his supplies and a ceramic cup. Filling the cup to the brim, he handed it to the wounded man and said, “Put this down and I'll give you another. Once the drinks are down, I'll fill your pipe with the weed.”

There sounded a sound like a hand slapping leather, followed by a loud scream, and looking to his left, Byron saw Luke drop to the soil with an arrow in the center of his chest. The man continued yelling, as his feet kicked frantically and his fingers clawed at the dirt. Blood was already pooling under his back, and his eyes were moving in all directions.

“Did anyone see where that arrow came from?” Byron asked.

“I spotted movement to my left, but never really saw anything.” Lum said.

“Lum, I want you and Nimrod to pack Luke to the trees off our left. The rest of you, once in position, prepare for an attack. We may have ran into a group of Eagle warriors.” Byron said, then he scanned the countryside carefully but saw nothing out of place.
It can't be just one woman doing all of this to us,
he thought.

Chapter 5

MONGOOSE WAS POSITIONED BEHIND
a large log on the western side of the village, facing where Uriah had claimed danger was coming. Coming from the west it was likely the attackers were Dark Mountain People and they were a fierce tribe; the arrow in the back of the Dog Soldier Uriah clearly stated they were on the war path. Uriah had died shortly after the shaman arrived, but it was yet to see if his self-sacrifice would save his people.

Mongoose divided half her fight force to guard the women and children, along with the old, while the rest would do battle. The non-combatants were in the very center of the village in trenches dug years ago. Long sharpened stakes were pointed up and away from the trenches, to prevent any horses from getting too close.

Suddenly, about fifty Dark Mountain warriors rode over a small crest and sat mounted on their horses. Mongoose yelled, “Ella, tell the younger Levi to watch our flanks. I suspect while this bunch hits us, others will strike when and where we are least prepared.”

Ella quickly ran from the boulder she was hiding behind.

One of the Mountain warriors raised his spear and gave a loud war cry. The mounted braves rode straight for the Eagle warriors. Mongoose waited until the riders were close and then screamed, “Now!”

Eagle archers, who their had their long bows ready, released arrows and men began to fall from their mounts. Some screamed, but others fell almost silently, their feeble cries unheard in the pounding horse hooves. Spears flew from the Eagle People, some taking riders, while others hit the big barreled chests of the horses, and down they went. The Dark Mountain warriors were in confusion.

With over half of his fighting force now gone, the leader of the Dark Mountain People attempted to retreat, but Mongoose cried, “Attack!”

As Amon moved forward at a dead run, he glanced at a movement to his right and saw about thirty Dark Mountain warriors riding over a small summit for the center of the village. He knew Mongoose had close to fifty warriors there, so all should be safe.

A huge bulk of a man ran for Amon, but the Eagle warrior lunged with his spear and saw the point go through the man's stomach. He let the spear fall and pulled his war ax. The next man was still mounted and attempted to stick him with the point of a spear, but Amon stepped aside, brought his ax down hard and the man's right hand fell to the grasses. Feeling a light sting to his back, he turned and saw a young warrior holding what Amon recognized as a sword. The young man tried to backup, except he tripped over a body and fell flat on his back. The big ax swung hard downward, the man-child screamed, and a split second later his head rolled from his body. With each beat of the young man's heart, blood would spurt from the severed neck, splattering on the grasses near his neck.

Amon saw one horse take a spear to the center of his chest and the animal fell immediately, landed in a cloud of dust, with the rider's left leg trapped under the heavy animal. As Amon smiled he moved for the trapped man, his big ax swung twice more, dropping Dark Mountain warriors screaming to the grass. Soon standing beside the fallen horse, Amon lifted his ax, but before it descended, Mongoose grabbed his hand and said, “Take him as a prisoner.”

“So be it.” he replied, and then smiled.

The Mountain People were now withdrawing, taking their many wounded with them, but arrows from the Eagle Clan archers were still being released into the air. Amon reached for a fallen sword in the grass and smiled when he held it in his hand.
It is so beautiful and heavy,
he thought,
it is an excellent weapon.
Then he yelled, “Pick up the metal swords! Some of the dead and injured have swords with steel blades!”