We walked for what seemed like hours, but we never crossed a fence or a road. The sun slowly fell in the sky and at just before dark we came upon the glow of a small campfire. I could see a solitary form squatted over the fire and the smell of cooking meat made my stomach rumble. I began to run as I recognized the man as Dog Breath.
He looked up at me and smiled, yet there was no sign of shock in his face. He looked as if he had expected me to come, and to arrive as an Ojibwe Brave. “Buffalo Head,” he said. “Sit down and have some elk. I made it just for you.”
Crooked Walker followed me into the little camp and he stretched his limbs. “It has been a long day and I am very hungry. That elk smells good, grandfather.”
“The elk is not for you, it is for Buffalo Head. There are some dried toads in that sack over there. Help yourself. They are not too bad with a little salt.”
Crooked Walker made a sour face and walked over to look inside the bag. He shook his head in disgust before popping a dead toad into his mouth.
Dog Breath took me by the shoulder and sat me down at the fire. He then took the huge chunk of elk from the fire and handed it to me on the stick it had been cooking on. I ate hungrily as Dog Breath watched me, he was obviously very happy to see me and it showed in his eyes. Crooked Walker looked glum and not very interested in his toads.
“I think I smell Soliah!” I shouted, standing up and pointing off into the blackness. “That way!”
Both Crooked Walker and Dog Breath leapt to their feet. Dog Breath charged out of the camp, letting out a fierce war whoop as he ran. When Crooked Walker went to follow, I held out my arm and stopped him. I then handed him the remains of the elk steak, which was nearly half. I pointed in the other direction. “Go,” I said.
Crooked Walker licked his lips and smiled. He then headed off into the opposite direction as Dog Breath had gone and disappeared into the woods.
Crooked Walker was the first to arrive back at the fire. Dog Breath came back a few minutes later. “I did not see anything,” he said. “Your nose must have been playing tricks on you.”
“That is what I said,” agreed Crooked Walker.
Dog Breath eyed the two of us, suspiciously. He simply nodded his head and took his place at the fire. After a little while, he pulled out his pipe and the little pouch of tobacco from the satchel he carried over his back. “Now, it is time to smoke. We must pray to the Great Spirit to guide us on our journey.”
I sat with my legs crossed as we smoked tobacco from the long pipe. The fire felt warm on my face and crickets chirped in the distance. I prayed like I had never prayed in my life, I think we all did, and when the pipe finally burnt up all of the tobacco, the old men curled up on their sides and closed their eyes. I did the same and quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.
We woke at first light and we quickly broke camp. The morning was chilly and I wished for a light jacket and a pair of blue jeans. Dog Breath offered me the sack of toads and I shook my head. “I am still full of elk,” I said.
Dog Breath peered into the bag and then looked back at me. “I would say you are about half full,” he said, cocking his head.
I quickly excused myself and dashed off into the woods. When I came back, Dog Breath never said another word about the toad sack or the elk. I was happy for that. I did not want him to be cross with me. We began to walk down a whisper of a trail that led through the tall pines. Dog Breath led the way and he seemed to be in a great hurry. With Crooked Walker following at his heels, he strode down the trail like a man on a mission. I had to do my best to keep up, which surprised me. I had thought they would slow me down and it looked as if the exact opposite was true. They were constantly reminding me to stick close.
The sun was obscured by clouds, which made it very difficult to estimate the time. I don’t know how far we walked, but my feet began to get sore. I guess my new skin still needed to develop calluses. Just as I was about to ask if we could take a breather, the forest thinned and we walked out into a wide open prairie. What I saw there stopped me dead in my tracks. Thousands of the Original People, of every creed and age, had gathered on the prairie around a roaring fire. A great cry rose from them as we walked out of the woods.
A few hours later I would find myself in the middle of my worst nightmare.
I stuck close to Crooked Walker and Dog Breath as we were welcomed into the group. The camp was buzzing with activity and I quickly found myself riding bareback on one of horses, which is something I had never done before. It seemed that we were the last pieces to the puzzle and the men were in a great hurry to leave once we arrived in their camp. Dog Breath selected a dark brown Bay for me to ride and I took to it like a fish to water. We rode across the open prairie and soon the forest was a distant memory. The temperature seemed to be falling fast. I followed behind Crooked Walker while Dog Breath rode at the front with the leaders of the group. The sound of clomping hoof-beats across the prairie and the snorting of horses were the only sounds I heard for a long time.
Most of the men were armed with long bows and many carried lances. I saw war clubs and stone hatchets, but none of the men appeared to be carrying any firearms. I was unarmed, except for the two teeth that dangled from my earlobes. I prayed that they would protect us.
We crossed a shallow river and the terrain began to roll with hills and valleys. Up and down we trotted across the never-ending sea of tall green grass and wildflowers. We followed the riders down to the bottom of the largest of these hills where the leaders had stopped. There, we spread out in a great line that stretched nearly as far as my eyes could see in both directions. My stomach churned as I realized that whatever waited for us was waiting on the other side of the tall grass of the great hill. We rode together in a single line, climbing up and up, ever closer to the precipice and I could feel my heart beating inside my chest.
Crooked Walker rode close and he gave me a hard look. “Stick close to me,” he said softly. I nodded my head just as we topped the rise.
What I saw before us was enough to take my breath away. A wide valley stretched out in a massive bowl that was teaming with men and animals. They seemed to be running in our direction. What looked like a solid wall of reddish black smoke rose to the sky from the opposite side of the valley. This smoking cloud seemed to be pursuing the men and animals below. We paused at the top for less than a minute as our line formed at the top of the ridge. I desperately searched for Man Killer and my grandfather as we waited there, but the shapes were too far away to make out and my heart sank as I realized that the smoke was moving much faster than the men and animals could run.
A loud whoop erupted from the middle of our group and our horses bolted down the hill at a full gallop. The sound of thousands of hoofs trampling the earth, thundered in my ears. I held onto my reigns and continued my search. The further down we traveled, the less I thought the chances were that I would find them in this stampeding herd of men and animals that was headed straight for us. They began to part in the middle as they saw us approaching and we were soon swallowed whole by the terrified creatures that had been fleeing the approaching storm of death. I cringed when I saw that most of the men and animals bore wounds, some were missing entire limbs. They were ravaged and bloody, but the sight of us coming down the hill seemed to reenergize them and they began to circle around us in a great arc. Crooked Walker turned on his Mustang and gave me a solemn look. The look only lasted a second, but I understood it completely. He was saying good-bye. We slowed our charge to a trot and prepared to meet whatever was inside the spreading gloom.
A long brown cougar, bloody and nearly exhausted, turned tail and joined us on the skirmish line. He slipped in between us, his paws digging up chunks of the trampled grass. He was a brave animal. I remember thinking that as we were enveloped by the blackness.
The air was nearly too thick to breathe and I fought to see anything beyond my own nose. Screams began to break the silence and some ended so abruptly that it sent chills up my spine. I urged the Bay forward, but
the horse was having none of that. I could feel him stiffen as the smoke began to slowly clear and the red light began to glow with increasing intensity. I swallowed hard as I caught my first glimpse of the blackened soil. A white skull was staring back at me with hollow eyes. I then saw another, and pieces of another.
A troll flew out of the murk with uncanny speed. He charged at the Bay with something that looked like a pitchfork. His squashed features were set in a deadly grimace and he held the pitchfork leveled at my Bay’s chest as he dashed forward. The Bay reared up, and just before the troll was able to deliver the blow, the cougar leapt onto the troll and sank its teeth into his hairy face. The pitchfork fell to the ground and there was a brief struggle. The Bay had nearly thrown me and I scooted forward as the big animal dropped back down on its front legs. The entire incident took only a few seconds, but the faceless troll was lying on the ground and looked like a half-eaten apple. The cougar was already gone.
I could now see ten to twelve feet inside the suffocating reddish-blackness. I took a firm grip on the reigns as the Bay turned in a tight circle. The sound of the ferocious battle was all around me, yet I had met up with only a single troll. I spotted a lance lying on the ground, the business end dripping with blood. I let go of the reigns and slipped to the ground. The troll had taught me that I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. I had nearly gotten my horse killed. I picked up the lance, it was heavy, but well-balanced and it felt good to hold it. I turned, but the Bay had vanished. Before this had time to even register in my brain, a group of five or six trolls stepped out of the mist. They smiled at me.
They made a fatal mistake and tried to surround me. That gave me time to drop the lance and take hold of the bear’s teeth with both hands. What happened next was sudden and violent. I spun on my heels and as I did, the trolls began to burst like rotten fruit. I completed the circle and spun another time. All that remained were some weapons and the hairy, overgrown feet of my attackers. One of them had been carrying a sword and I bent forward to pick it up. The weapon felt better than the lance. The sword was perhaps eighteen inches long and it looked as old as time. I swung it in an arc and then back again.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I felt something behind me. I turned, just in time to avoid being run through by another of the wicked little trolls. This one was dressed in rags and wore an expression of complete madness. He quickly composed himself and lashed out with a sword that looked identical to mine. I met the blow and there was a loud clash of steel. The troll was muscular and determined to kill me. I held my sword with both hands and swung my blade hard, straight down at the troll’s matted skull. The troll stuck his sword up in the air, hanging onto both ends as the blades came together. His block saved his life, but he now had a split scalp and it looked as if he had lost a thumb.
“My thumb,” the troll muttered in disbelief. “You bastard!”
We fought for the better part of a minute. I met his charges and he met mine. He was very fast, even with only one hand. Blood squirted from his missing digit, and dripped down his oval-face and into his tangled beard. I could see his yellow teeth clenched with fury as he continued to swing his blade. He grunted like an animal with each clash of steel.
A whitetail deer bounded past us, close enough to nearly knock the both of us over. The deer was engulfed in flames and it was bleating like a stuck pig. My troll dropped his blade for a fraction of a second and began to chuckle. “Let’s go get some cooked venison,” he grunted. He then roared with laughter. I took the opportunity to sink my blade into his exposed belly. He looked at me with shock in his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he said. Then he dropped to his knees and awkwardly pitched forward. His big feet kicked like he was trying to swim away, but then he was still. I gave him a kick and picked up his sword. I hadn’t liked his joke and felt no pity for the creature.
I walked on, killing at least five of the trolls in more or less the same manner. I continued moving deeper into the fray, armed with two bloody swords and a resolve to seek vengeance. I heard the unmistakable crack of gunshots. The explosions sounded loud and foreign, in what had been a battle fought in the ways of old. I didn’t like the sound, for I knew that our group hadn’t brought in any firearms. The shooting began suddenly and rose to a terrible crescendo. I could feel bullets whizzing by my ears and one hit the earth at my feet. I was standing among a dozen dead Braves and a few of their dead horses.
“Kill me, please?” asked a raspy voice during a short pause in the gunfire.
I looked down and into the long face of a bloody Mustang. The horse was looking at me with fear in his eyes. I looked and saw his belly had been slashed and his entrails were oozing from the wound. I looked back into that pleading face and sank to my knees. “I can’t do it,” I said. “I’m sorry, big fella.” I dropped one of the swords, placed my hand on his neck and waited for death to take him. Bright light suddenly glowed from the belly of the fallen beast and I could feel something passing from my hand into his neck. My arm began to tremble as the horse’s head began to thrash from side to side. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I didn’t know what I was doing, but whatever it was, I wasn’t going to stop until it had run its course.
The Mustang looked at me and I swear it was smiling. The light dimmed to a glow beneath the magically repaired wound and it slowly faded away. I smiled back at the noble creature. I only wished that I knew what I had been doing, just in case the opportunity presented itself to save something, or someone else. The Mustang twisted and rose to his feet.
“Get on my back,” the horse ordered.
“You’ll be safer if we both walk.”
“You gave me the second chance to live and I want to use that chance to get back into the battle! Now, hop on my friend. Let’s go kill some trolls!”
I took the reigns in my free hand. “What’s your name, big fella?” I asked.
“I am called Andy,” said the horse in a voice with a southern twang. “I am a friend of the Oddfather, do you know him? We have to save him!”
I needed no further encouragement and I was on Andy’s back in the blink of an eye. The Mustang reared back and we headed off into the darkness. I held my sword at the ready in my right hand. We galloped with increasing speed and I sank low on Andy’s back. We were moving far too fast to react to anything that I saw, but it looked as if Soliah’s friends were winning. We passed soldiers here and there, ghostly white and wearing dark blue cavalry uniforms. They would fire blindly after us and only one of the shots came close to hitting me. The black mist swirled by us like so much smoke. Dead bodies littered the earth.
And there he was, my grandfather. He was completely surrounded by trolls and was being put into chains. There must have been twenty of them in the group. My grandfather’s straw hat was gone and his white hair was matted with blood. One of his arms appeared to be broken and it hung crooked and useless at his side. I let out a howl of anger and I leapt from Andy’s back. I charged the trolls from ten feet away and I sunk my blade deep into the chest of the first one I encountered. I screamed like a madman as I withdrew the blade and turned to face the next in line. He came at me with an axe and I swung the sword with a backhand blow that caught nothing but neck. The troll’s head fell back on his shoulders and bounced on the ground. A silent scream of agony escaped from its twisted mouth.
“Stop him!” ordered one of the remaining trolls who held my grandfather. The group responded as one and they left the two of them alone as they concentrated on me. I had plenty of time to harness the power of the earrings, yet, I didn’t touch them. I met their charge head on and three of them were dead in less than ten seconds. I swung the sword with devastating results and the trolls screamed in agony and terror. I continued swinging and slashing with my blade, limbs fell and heads rolled. I felt an overwhelming need to seek vengeance and I took it out on the group before me. Soon, it was just the three of us. I casually walked over to confront the troll who held my grandfather captive.
“You had better unlock these chains,” said my grandfather. “That would be the wise thing to do.”
The troll stared stupidly at the bodies of his friends and then back to me. He quickly produced a key and began springing the locks as fast as he could. My grandfather shed the chains and stepped free from his bonds.
“I did what you asked of me,” grunted the leader of the trolls. “Now, you have to let me go.”
My grandfather limped towards me and stood by my side. Andy suddenly charged from out of the mist and he spun and kicked the troll hard in the chest, the troll made an awful sound as he flew backwards. Andy then began to jump on the body of the fallen creature, trampling him deep into the earth, long after the troll had expired. Satisfied, he walked over to where we stood.
“Andy,” said my grandfather, taking the long snout of the Mustang in both hands and kissing him on the top of his nose. “You saved my life.”
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” replied Andy. “Get on my back, both of you!”
I was going to say something about me playing a small part in saving his life, but this seemed like neither the time, nor place, to do that. Andy dipped and grandfather swung his long leg over Andy’s back. He then patted Andy’s rump. “Hop on, Huckleberry,” he beckoned. “What are you waiting for, Christmas?”
I had thought that I would be riding in front. I shook my head and handed my grandfather my sword. “Hold this,” I said. “I’ll be wanting that back.”
“Of course you do. What, do you think I can fight them off with only one good arm? How would I hold onto Andy?”
I backed up three steps and I launched myself onto the back of the impatient Mustang. I took the sword in one hand, and, with a good deal of trepidation, put my other arm around my grandfather’s middle. I could immediately feel the healing power surging through my skin. It was brief and powerful. My grandfather began stretching his broken arm, testing it in the air. Andy began to turn and he started to trot.
“Thank you Andy, for bringing him to me,” my grandfather said. “Huckleberry is a good one to have in a fight.”
I wished he would quit thanking Andy. “Where is Man Killer?” I asked.
I could feel my grandfather stiffen as I finished the question. “I am not sure,” he said in a weary voice. “She was taken from me.”
“Who took her?” I nearly screamed at him.
“Major Soliah…”
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks and I pressed my head into my grandfather’s back. Andy began to build speed and soon we were galloping away. Shots rang out, but I never lifted my head as we shot through the dark reddish haze. I saw thousands of dead bodies, some human and some not. The ground was littered with them and sticky with congealing blood and gore. I could feel the strength leaving my body as I continued to sob.
We galloped like that for a long time, passing none of our number whom still drew breath. More gunshots sounded and a bullet whizzed by my left ear. I lost my grip on the sword and it slipped from my fingers. I wrapped that arm around my grandfather and held on with my remaining strength.
Andy suddenly burst into the sunlight and he kept running until we were a safe distance away. I concentrated on my breathing and tried to pull myself together. I dismounted and turned away from them, wiping my face with my hands. I pulled my hands away and found that I was all alone on the prairie. “Grandfather!” I cried, watching him and Andy charge back into the blackness. “Don’t leave me here!” It was no use. They had dropped me off like so much baggage. I began to curse under my breath and they were gone. I collapsed to my knees and once again began to cry. I fell face forward into the soft grass and curled up into a ball. It was very embarrassing, but I couldn’t help myself. I could only imagine what Soliah would do to my Man Killer. Somehow, inexplicably, I fell fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brindle's Odyssey Page 40