Eagle People

by Benton, W. R.

  This evening, Colonel entered the room with a man Mongoose had seen before, but hadn't met. He said, “This is Sergeant Dooley and he's to accompany you back to your village and your return. He and his men will remain there until you're ready to return.”

  The Sergeant extended his hand and said, “Ma'am, I will see you safely there and back.”

  “They will be properly armed for their mission, and I think you'll be safe enough during the whole move. However, he'll need the help of your warriors, especially when on the move here. Keep in mind, Sergeant Dooley, Mongoose is in charge and obey her as you would me.”

  “An order from her is an order from you, sir.”

  “When do you plan on leaving?” the Colonel asked.

  “We leave at first light.” Dooley replied.

  Chapter 16

  BYRON WAS WALKING around the campfire, circling and cursing as he thought, Here you are, a big chief, but with no people. Something must be done about this, except what can really be done? The damned sores on my pecker hurt today too, and it puts me in a foul mood.

  Ora neared and said, “There is word of a group of about a dozen men and women moving toward the big Eagle People village. One of our scouts spotted them the day before yesterday, but just returned.”

  “How many many women in the group?”

  “About half, but all look to be warriors.”

  “Prepare all the men. We must move now.”

  “I'll see to it immediately.” Ora replied, and then moved toward the men, who were constructing shelters.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the men were mounted and Byron did a quick head count. He had 102 warriors left from over 200, so he needed to use caution or he'd soon be alone.

  “Men,” he said, “we are going to attack a small group moving toward the Eagle People and the group has women. Then, we will visit some remote villages, and send scouts to steal women as they bathe or go for water. We must have women to produce more warriors. All males that fall into our hands are to be killed. Now, let's ride.”

  Byron called out, “Ora!”

  “Yes?”

  “I want riders on point and drag. Also, put some outriders on both sides. Just because there has been an illness, doesn't mean we're the only ones moving.”

  “I'll see to it right now.”

  When we take these women, I must deny myself one. I will place them in a single lodge so all the men may use them. The sooner we start having children, the faster our people will grow. If I take one, all will come down with my illness, and that must be avoided, he thought.

  It was just a bit before noon, when a scout returned and said, “I have spotted some Northern Plains women, a large group, bathing in a stream. I saw two guards and no more. Their main village is about a mile to the north.”

  “How many women?”

  “I counted twenty-six of them, and all are of child bearing age.”

  Byron instantly said, “Ora, take twenty-five warriors and capture the women. Make one sweep of the stream and then leave. Detail four men to take the guards out before you attack.”

  Ora smiled and said, “If there are only two guards, the attack will be over in minutes. What of the group moving toward the Eagle People?”

  “We'll take these women first, then move toward the other group. There are more women here.”

  Soon Ora was moving, and he'd sent four men ahead to get into positions to kill the two guards. When they heard the cry of a hawk they were to take the warriors out with arrows. At that point, the warriors would, if all went properly, steal the women.

  An hour later, all of the men in position, Ora gave the cry of a Hawk. Both guards raised their heads toward the sky, shielded their eyes from the sun with their hands, and then the arrows struck them. One fell instantly, dead before he struck the ground, but the second man fell screaming as he moved behind a huge rock he'd been sitting on just seconds before.

  With loud war cries, the Wolf warriors attacked.

  Within a couple of minutes most of the women were gathered up and secured but two ran for the boulder the guard was behind. Four warriors rode fast for the position. The wounded man raised and released two arrows and two men fell. The wounded Northern Plains warrior never really stood a chance, because seconds later, a lone Wolf warrior stepped from the woods behind the man. The Wolf swung his war ax hard and the man screamed as the sharp blade bit into his skull. From his position, Ora saw blood spurt from all directions from the fatal injury. Other warriors were off their horses in seconds, securing the hands of the women. The killer pulled his ax from the man's mangled head and gave a loud victory scream.

  A warrior known as Lucas suddenly screamed, and when Ora looked in his direction, a captive woman had a knife blade buried in the man's back. Again and again she stabbed until the warrior fell, fatally injured, but still screaming. Two arrows flew toward the woman and one struck her in the left thigh, pinning her against her now injured horse. The horse reared and almost dropped the rider, but the woman maintained her seat in the saddle, and then shot across the stream. Arrows followed her, only she made good her escape.

  Ora yelled, “Quickly now, we must escape.”

  As a group they galloped from the stream, with twenty-three captive women for the tribe. After a mile or so, Ora dropped by the scout who'd initially reported the women to Byron and asked, “How large was the village you saw?”

  “Not large. I figure they might have forty or fifty men, so we've little to worry about.”

  “Let's hope you were right, because they will come for us.”

  “Why run from them? Let us ambush them when they ride after us. When we reach the main group, we can make an ambush there. Once the warriors are killed, we can easily overrun the village. I know there are more women there, because I saw them with my own eyes.” Ora said.

  Ora smiled, because he'd suggested the idea to Byron and knew the man would take credit for it, but it would come at a cost for the Chief—two women.

  Turning to the young scout, Byron said, “I have thought of this already and you're correct, we can kill those who follow and then take the village. You're a good man, because already you are thinking like a leader.”

  The young warrior smiled, realizing his idea would work.

  Ora said, “I know they will come for us because one woman escaped. The scout says the village has few men and most will die in the ambush. No tribe can afford to lose this many women.”

  Once at with the main group, Byron said, “See the men are placed on one side of the trail. No one, and I mean no one—under penalty of death, is to release an arrow until I do the job first. Now, get the word out and the men in position.”

  Less than an hour later, as the warriors of the Wolf People hid in the brush, the Northern Plains warriors rode cautiously down the trail. The point man was allowed to ride through the trap, while the Wolf warriors waited anxiously. The group looked to number about fifty.

  A voice, obviously a leader, turned in his saddle and said, “Keep your eyes and ears open, I have a feeling we are being watched.”

  Byron pulled his bowstring back all the way and let an arrow go, seeing his target, the leader, take the arrow deep in his chest. Each of the 100 warriors of the Wolves, except for four guarding the bound women, let arrows fly. Men fell from their horses screaming by the handfuls and after releasing two arrows each, the Wolves ran for their enemies.

  The survivors of the Northern Plains People were in shock, because the attack caught them by surprise, and men were dying all around them. Then the running Wolves struck. They straightaway began to kill and mutilate and within a few short minutes, the battle was over.

  “Ora!” Byron yelled.

  “Here!”

  “I want a spear driven through the chest of each of the downed warriors. There can be no survivors. Then, get a count of our dead and wounded.”

  Screams, a higher pitch than others, were heard as each wounded man was killed. Then, Ora walked to Byron and said,
“Fifty of the enemy killed, against our two dead and three injured slightly.”

  “Can our injured still fight?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Send them after the point man we let ride by and then join us in the village.”

  “I'll send them in a second.”

  “Good. Then, once they leave, we'll attack the village and remember, no males left alive.”

  Ora nodded and then left to send the injured men after the one warrior that yet lived.

  An hour later, in the woods surrounding the village, Byron grinned when he saw not a single man, but he suspected a few youngsters and old timers were there. Stepping from the woods, he gave a loud scream and ran for the village.

  They met no resistance until they'd actually entered the village, when some men well past their prime clashed with them briefly. Once they were killed, the Wolves continued into the village center. Women were already being gathered up and males were being murdered where they were found. Byron captured an old man and his wife and placed a guard on them, because he had plans for both. Finally, all sounds of battle stopped, as if turned off by the hand of God. Moans and groans were heard, but very little screaming.

  “Ora, kill all of their wounded, except for any women lightly injured that might recover. Also, save me an old man and old woman. I have need of them.”

  “You heard him, men, kill all of these bastards, except for the women and an old couple.”

  Once again screams filled the air and within a few minutes it was so quiet the lack of noise grew suddenly loud.

  Ora neared, his chest, face, and arms spattered with blood. He grinned and asked, “What do you want done with the old couple?”

  “Cut some limbs, about six feet long, an inch thick, and as straight as you can find. Then, trim all the branches from them. Make the limbs as smooth as you can. Then have the men gather up a stack of dry brush and place it in the village square, because we're going to have a little entertainment and scare our enemies at the same time. Once the limbs are ready, pound them into the ground in the very center of the village. Once they are about a foot and a half deep in the dirt, sharpen the tops to points.”

  “What of the brush?”

  “Have it placed close to the two limbs.”

  Less than an hour later, Ora returned and said, “The stakes in the ground are ready, as is the brush.”

  “Good. Guards, bring the two captives to the center of the village.”

  Once all were near the limbs and brush, Byron said, “Undress both of our captives.”

  The man stood unmoving as his homespun shirt and trousers were cut from him, but the old woman begged and screamed, but it did no good.

  “Now, tie their arms behind them and make sure the knots are secure.”

  The man made no resistance, but the woman had to be knocked to the ground before she could be secured. She begged and pleaded, thinking they were to be burned to death.

  “Ora, I want you and another man to take horses, one on each side of the man, and using his upper arms lift him. Ride to the stakes and impale him.”

  Ora, confused asked “And how do we do that?”

  “Use an orifice of each. The woman has two, so use either.”

  “My God, Byron, do you really want to do this? I have never heard of such a thing before. I don't know if I can do this to a living person.”

  “Do as I say or I'll replace you, and I'm making no threat, but a promise.”

  “Grant, mount your horse.” Ora said, and then walked toward his horse shaking his head.

  When both riders neared the old man, Ora said, “Four of you lift him, so we can get a strong grip.”

  The old man was lifted and the two riders moved toward the stakes. Once in position, they lifted him slightly over the sharp point as a warrior near the stake lined up the stake and his orifice.

  “Lower him now.” The warrior said, and he watched closely as the stake entered.

  Meeting some resistance as the sharpened point entered, Ora yelled to be heard over the man's screams, “Push him down by his shoulders, hard and do it now!”

  The victims head swung from side-to-side as his high pitched screams vibrated off the lodges. Finally, the sharpened point popped out of his chest, slight above his sternum. Blood, flowing like a river, ran down the stake and pooled on the ground.

  “That's enough.” Byron said. “Now pile half of the brush around him and start a fire.”

  Flames were soon eating at the wood, and they danced and flickered in the light wind. The old man's screams ceased, but a whimpering sound came from him, until the flames began to lick at his bare skin. A deep warbling scream sounded for a few minutes and then his head fell limply to his chest. When his hair caught fire, no movement was seen—the old one was dead.

  Suddenly sexually excited by watching the torture of the old man, Byron said, “Take the old woman into the lodge behind her. She will die another way.”

  Ora motioned with his hand and the woman was pulled into the lodge.

  Byron entered and asked the woman, “Can you please a man many ways?”

  “Y . . . yes . . . is that what you . . . you want? I can do that and make you a . . . very happy man.” she replied, because after seeing what they'd done to her husband, she'd do anything to survive.

  “That is what I want. If you truly make me a happy man, you will live. If I am displeased, you'll meet the same fate as your man.” Then turning to the guards he said, “Wait outside the door.”

  Twenty minutes later, Byron walked from the lodge grinning and said, “Secure the old woman, she is mine until I tire of her. She knows how to please me.”

  The old woman, thinking she'd now survive left the lodge willingly, unaware she now carried the French pox, but even if she had known, it didn't matter. Byron planned to cut her throat after he used her over the course of a week anyway.

  “Ora, take twenty-five men and take the women back to the village. If one escapes, I will have your head. Do you understand me?” Said Byron.

  “What of the old woman?”

  “Leave her with me. I enjoy her company. After what we did to her husband, she's too scared to run away.”

  “As you wish. We will leave now.”

  “Go; the rest of us will move to the group moving toward Eagle People.”

  Mongoose and her group were near her people and they'd met no one as they traveled. The men sent by the Colonel were good warriors and not once on the trip had a member of the Eagle Clan pulled guard duty. She wasn't sure if it was because they didn't trust her and her people, or if they wanted them to rest. It didn't matter to her, and she knew Eldon enjoyed sleeping all night.

  A day from her village, one of the soldiers walked to Sergeant Dooley and said, “One of our scouts spotted a large group of warriors moving toward us from the southeast.”

  “How many warriors?”

  “He counted over fifty and then stopped, but he knows they are less than a hundred.”

  “Recall all our men and scouts. In the valley below we'll establish our defenses. Tell the men to allow the warriors to get close and I'll open the fight. I want no guns fired until I shoot the first round. Any questions?”

  “None, and they know how to do the job. Our guns will surprise them greatly.”

  “Now move and see my orders are carried out, Corporal.”

  As the man moved away from them, Dooley said, “Move toward the trees in the valley below. Once there, prepare for an attack.”

  Mongoose gazed into Eldon's eyes and they sparkled with mirth. A group of warriors were about to attack eleven men armed with rifles. It was something they both wanted to see.

  In less than thirty minutes, the soldiers were all in the trees and in positions. In the middle of the trees ran a narrow stream, maybe fourteen inches wide and about half as deep. The water was clear and ice cold, so Mongoose suspected it was fed by a spring. It was good to know if the battle was long, water was near.

  The
scout looked at Byron and said, “I counted only fourteen of them, and they rode into some trees near a stream and dismounted. They know we are here.”

  “It will do them little good. We are close to fifty men and they expect to fight us? What is your name?”

  “I am called Ezra.”

  “Well, Ezra, this is your lucky day, because you're now my second in command. I want you to take thirty of the men and attack the trees. If you do well, two of the women captives we have are yours.”

  “You want the women unhurt but all males killed, correct?”

  Smiling, Byron said, “Correct; now go and start the attack. I will be watching from the hill.”

  As a group, they moved to the crest of the hill, well out of arrow range, and Byron smiled as Ezra assembled his warriors and made ready for the attack.

  A minute later, Ezra and his men rode their horses hard for the trees, sure of success.

  When the warriors of the Wolf people were thirty feet from the trees, Sergeant Dooley stood and fired his M-16 on fully automatic, knocking five men from their saddles. The squad opened fire a split second later and Wolves died. Brains, blood, bone and body parts flew from men and went in all directions. Ezra was struck in the chest and fell to the grasses, where he lay unable to move, blood seeping from his entrance and exit holes. When the bullet struck his chest, the bullet tumbled and the exit hole was in his thigh. His lungs, stomach and intestines were all punctured by the lead slug.

  The men attempted to turn and ride away, but Dooley tossed a grenade, which exploded and killed all three. Horrific screams were coming from the wounded. One soldier walked to them and shot each in the head as he moved amidst the downed warriors.

  Byron was shocked; all of his men were down—killed in just seconds—he'd heard gunfire, too. How did the Eagle People acquire guns? How can this be? he thought. I must leave now and avoid these people. Guns, they have many guns.