Authors: Mercedes Keyes
The torch appeared, triggering Red Crow
to let out a high pitched, startling animal cry, spooking the carrier into
dropping it as he swung out with his hatchet piercing his chest and pulling him aside with the handle, the head of it buried deep, moving him out of
the way of the shooter. In a flash, Red Crow looked down the barrel
of the rifle as he launched his dagger with accuracy, landing it with a
resounding thud in the throat of the rifleman and then dived to avoid
the blast that he knew was coming.
Outcries of agony broke the silence as he rolled. Springing to his feet, his ears were ringing from the blast; he stumbled as he ran, which
almost sent him to the ground, now feeling a fierce burning tunnel through his shoulder and out the back. Determined, he regained his
footing and ran on into the blackness, ignoring the white dancing lights that
flashed before his eyes.
The forest was alive with screams, and shots that
sounded out in frightened frenzies, while one victim then another
cried for help. "Oh God! Oh God! Somebodieee – help me, ohhh God!
" He heard as he ran, pursued by more enemies. There was
no time to stop as he could hear them chasing behind him. "He went
that way, get that bloody bastard! Don't let him get away!!"
All around him, braves were attacking, trying to make their way out of the circle that kept them from escaping. "Bingham!! Oh God
!!! Red bastards, they gutted Bingham!!!" Someone was vomiting, as another yelled, "There, I see one! Shoo-ot – shoot him!!" Shots were fired and a scream.
"Nooo! God, McGrath, you idiot, you shot one of our men!”
"Aaaaah, aaaaah!!" A voice screamed after falling
onto a body missing its head. Above, a crescent moon and sky filled with stars did nothing to shed enough light to aid those who faced the horror of his attacker, for
those holding torches unable to see what they were walking into only to discover a fallen colleague. One
torched carrier after another fell victim to being a target until those
carrying them dropped them and ran for cover realizing they were
being picked off because of the light making them a target. Someone was sobbing, praying
for daylight. "Shet up you fool! You get us killed!!!"
"I want out of here, I want out!"
"Shet up!"
Red Crow reached a crop of high bushes and forced himself
beneath them; his act convincing how desperate he was to survive. Facing death when it was right there put a whole
new light on things. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself deeper in
under the base of the bushes. Rough limbs from above scraped and
cut across his chest, making his eyes water as he bit into his tongue so
as not to cry out from the tearing pain.
Hi
s back was being cut into as well, scraped on
rocks and roots, protruding from the ground, snagging and tearing at
his wound, threatening to make him scream out in agony. He had to
stop and catch his breath, afraid that he would pass out as the world
around him spun. His entire upper body felt as if it were on fire as his pistol
wound throbbed and pulsed. He could feel a strange warmth
behind him spreading as he lay panting in the cold dark night.
From every direction, men ran back and forth, searching for him
or any one of his brothers. He wondered how many of them still
lived? He wondered at the weeping and sobbing that came to him
from the distance, a soldier no doubt, young and frightened beyond
his worst nightmare.
"I swear to God, you don't shet up, I'll shet you up! You want
them to hear you? You want your friggin' throat cut? You want-
...uuugh."
"Ai-i-i-i-i-ih, ai-i-i-i-i-ih, ai-i-i-i-i-i-ih! Lord
God, get me out of here, please Lord, I wanna go home, I wanna go home
!" The young man ran screaming as the soldier reprimanding
him met the fate he had warned him of.
Red Crow lay with his eyes tearing for the young one. He too,
wanted out of there; he too, wanted to go home. As he lay, he listened and realized that for
them, there was no hope. Knowing that his death was
close, he prayed the young one would make it out alive.
Now that
he wedged himself in under the bush, he knew as soon as the sun
rose, he would be visible, they would see him and kill him. There was
no fight left in him, no matter how much he now wanted to live.
Finally, he felt his wish was to be realized.
'I sought out this end, and soon
now... it will be upon me swift and sure.'
He swallowed back the lump in
his throat.
'Why God? Why is it that not until one faces death, does
commonsense and wisdom show its face? Regret...so much regret.'
He closed his
eyes knowing all hope ... and his Hope was lost to him.
Who would be the next man in her life? Who would be the one to
love her, as she deserved? Who would accept her, her spirit, her drive and all the things that were important to her, like family and loyalty?
Who would be the man that would patiently wait for her love? He
had known early on, that she had a strong sense of devotion for those
she loved; a fierce spirit to defend and protect them. What man
would be the recipient of such powerful passion? More tears gathered
and spilled over, because he wanted to be that man.
She was probably on her way to Webster Fields now with his mother escorting her. Perhaps her brother and father would be there waiting for her.
Maybe, at th
at very moment, she was ridding all
memory of him and all that she had suffered because of him. After wanting her for so long, how could fate be so cruel as to give him a
taste only for it to be lost to him now? He swallowed and sniffled; he
didn't care who heard him. Time was running out, the cloak of
darkness was slowly lifting, soon to be replaced by daylight.
His father had died as
he
would. At least he had left him to carry
on. Now, he would perish with nothing to leave behind, but the
reputation of being the savage red devil. He sniggered despite his pain.
Someone would no doubt claim the honor of slaying the red devil.
All that his father had dreamed for him was about to be snuffed out
in a matter of moments. The red devil, Red Crow; Joseph Avery O'Brien, a Harvard graduate with honors, in the middle of an Indian
revolt, about to die without his father's dream fulfilled of him using his
law degree to fight for his people and their rights to keep their land,
the legal way.
The urge to laugh out and then cry out was so strong that he bit
into his lip to keep his silence. Automatically his mind went back to
Hope. If only he could be granted one dying wish, it would be to hold that
woman in his arms just one more time. He would lay her down and
kiss every inch of her body, lingering for moments at a time in all his
favorite spots. He would surge deep within her, praying with every
thrust to plant, once more, his seed within her to hold fast and true.
'Oh God, I'm going to die! I'm going to die! Why have I been such a fool?
Life...to live...means there is always ... hope. Death, means, all hope is gone.
And I chose death ... why? Why?'
Blinking to drive the tears from his
eyes, Red Crow stared up through the limbs of the bush, the sky was
turning gray, dawn was upon them. Death, the grim reaper stood
waiting to gather him in.
His heart hammered. He took a deep breath, it was only a matter
of minutes before someone would see him, and kill him. Counting
down the minutes, he waited for his fate to arrive.
"Let's move now." Hope whispered to Greeneye.
"Not yet." He whispered back, looking to all of his braves
indicating that they were to stick close to him and Hope at all cost.
His instruction to them was that at no time were they to leave her,
they were to guard her and kill any that came her way.
"It's so quiet...what if it's too late." She whispered, short of
breath and afraid.
"Do not venture far from my side." He warned her.
"I have to call out to him, how will he know, we are here?"
Greeneye sighed as he stared at her, silently wondering if they
were too late. "Are you certain you are ready for this?"
"I want my husband out of there; there is only - one way."
Greeneye stared into her eyes, wishing with everything in him,
that she were his. He knew now, with certainty, that he could easily
love her, make her his number one wife, yes, even before his Silkie Whisper. Gold Raven was made up of all the stuff that a mighty chief needed, to be mighty!
"The soldiers will rise to attack any moment now. As soon as they do, we will rush in, attacking those who will fire the big gun first."
"Train the cannon in that direction, that's good... now when I say
ready...and give the signal, you fire! That will flush out a good
number hiding, and we can wrap this up and be on our way home."
The sergeant in charge directed as he watched the sunrise. "Get
ready... another moment to light and-..."
Four Arrows pierced his chest almost simultaneously and the man
beside him, about to light the cannon, watched him fall. He turned to
see a horde of Indian's rushing in to attack them from their flank. Gunfire once again echoed in the air surprising the soldiers and
militiamen as they turned to see that they were now surrounded and were shocked even more... the Indian's had rifles.
"Retreat – retreat – retreat!!!”
"Good God!! To where!? Where’d they come from?! We’re surrounded! They have weapons
!!"
Red Crow lay hearing sounds and screams that confused him. There was a lot of scrambling around him, gunfire, lots of gunfire,
and it seemed, it was not aimed at him.
'What? What is happening! What
is going on?'
He thought as he lay watching running feet rush by him,
men screaming, soldiers, militiamen were now being shot at. He watched as one flinched and fell to his death on the ground not far
from him. More cries and screams, and then an Indian war cry.
Red Crow's head jerked up alert as the cry lit the air, resounding
repeatedly, reinforcements had arrived, but he had not a clue as to
how or why. His heart hammered with new found hope. More shots
were fired in succession as the shouts of retreat were called out from
the panicking militiamen.
Red Crow didn't know where they'd come from, but for some
reason, more Indians had come to their aid, and knowing that this
was his last hope to survive, he tried to come to grips with his pain.
He must face the agony it would cost him to pull himself from under
the bush he had hidden under.
He knew that now was not the time to feel weak, and taking a
deep breath, he went to push himself out when the extent of his
injuries hit him full force. As he had lain in the cool of the night, he
had allowed the hard, sharp edges of the branch limbs to bed into
place upon his flesh, and now to move, meant he would have to go
against them. Not about to be left behind, he grabbed the thick base
of the bush and took several deep breaths to gear up to push himself
out. Making just that sudden move brought tears to his eyes, the
burning pain and soreness had every nerve ending in his body
screaming for him to stop and not move. There was no way he could
budge without bringing further injury to his wound.
Suddenly, rushing feet passed him, there was a lot of fighting
taking place with rapiers and swords, he could hear the clashing and clinking of the metal, he looked up from his hiding place and thought he was in a dream, losing his mind. He stretched and blinked his eyes
in disbelief. There was his wife, wielding a sword and fighting off
soldiers, with Greeneye at her back doing the same, other braves
staying close fighting with their hatchets and clubs. She swung,
parried, jabbed, sliced and killed one and then another. Turning from
them, she suddenly screamed loud and clear.
"Red Cro-o-ow! Red Cro-o-ow!! Where are yo-o-ou?!
! Red Cro-o-ow! Greeneye, I don’t see him, anywhere!!
" Hope screamed over the loud fighting around
her.
"Keep looking, we will not leave without him!
!" Greeneye yelled back. "Look out!!" as a
soldier was about to run Hope through, she turned just as Greeneye threw a dagger catching him in the chest. "Greeneye!!!" Hope screamed, because while he was saving her life, he was shot in his arm. Hope pulled out one of her pistols and fired, hitting the man
between the eyes.
"Greeneye!!!"
"I'm okay... let us find Red Crow!"
Tears fell from Red Crow's eyes as he struggled to get from under
the bush; he tried to call out to them but could not get his voice to work. He could not believe it; his wife was there, looking for him and not on her way to Webster Fields, to her family. Somehow she
had convinced those of his tribe to come for them, she had risked all to come for him.
"Red Cro-o-ow!!" Hope called again as they were about to move on.
He began forcing himself from beneath the bush, an unavoidable
cry tore from his throat as he felt the sharp points of the limbs stab
and dig, cutting and scratching deeper into his flesh, forcing him to stop.