by Sharpe, Jon
“You didn’t try to talk him out of it?” Fargo asked.
“Why should I? I don’t make army policy. It’s just this one band that’s acting up. Colonel Carlson figures to put them in their place.”
“There are women and children in that village,” Fargo said.
“If they stay out of the way, they won’t be hurt.”
Sadie bowed her head and said, “I didn’t reckon on this. They’ll be upset with me and I can’t blame them.”
“Who?” Badger said.
Fargo had heard enough. He must reach the village before Carlson. He slid the rope off the chestnut and was about to climb on and ride it to the Ovaro when Badger brought his own mount over, blocking his way.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I told you,” Fargo said. “To take California’s horse to him.”
“He can wait. You’re going to stay right here until the colonel shows up.”
“Like hell,” Fargo said.
“There’s something fishy you showing up like this,” Badger said. “I think you’re up to no good, and I’m keeping you here so the colonel can sort it out.”
“Don’t do this,” Sadie said.
“I told you before to butt out,” Badger snapped. “Injun lover,” he added.
Sagebrush Sadie blushed.
“So the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?” Fargo asked.
“About little miss scout here,” Badger said, but he didn’t elaborate.
“You think you know but you don’t,” Sadie said. “There’s more to it.”
“I don’t give a good damn,” Badger said. “All I care about is doing my job.” He smiled a cold smile and said to Fargo, “Which is why you’re staying put.”
Fargo turned from the chestnut. “Let’s talk this out.”
“Nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”
Fargo took a step and held his hands out in appeal. “I’m asking you to do me a favor and pretend you didn’t see me.”
“And then what? You hurry off and warn the Bannocks that the colonel is coming?”
“Only a handful of warriors have gone on the warpath. Not the whole village.”
“This is war, and in war you attack an enemy where it hurts them the most.”
“Damn it, Badger. The women. The kids.”
“The warriors who are killing whites have squaws who feed them and shelter them and kids they’re raising to be just like them.”
“So they should suffer too?”
“What about all the whites who have suffered? All the white women and kids who have been massacred?”
“It doesn’t make attacking the village the right thing to do.”
Badger shook his head in disgust. “I never took you for a weak sister. It shows how little we really know each other.”
Sadie said, “Please, Badger. Let him and me get the women and children out of there.”
“How will you do that without the warriors finding out?” Badger shook his head again. “You must think I was born yesterday.”
Fargo took another half step. He would try one last time. “Tell me something, and be honest.” He paused. “Is there any chance at all that I can talk Carlson into surrounding the village and take the Bannocks prisoner without harming them?”
“Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“It would stop the killing.”
“The renegades might not even be there.”
“All the more reason not to attack.”
Badger bent toward him. “The renegades need to know that when they kill whites, their own people suffer. Maybe then they’ll think twice about killing any more of us.”
“It’s like being in quicksand,” Sadie said. “Nothing I do can stop me from going under.”
Badger glanced at her in annoyance. “What in hell are you talking about?”
Fargo had tried. Honestly tried. Badger and he didn’t always see eye to eye but he liked the man, and didn’t want to do what he did next: he sprang, grabbed Badger’s leg, wrenched it from the stirrup before Badger could react, and tumbled him from the saddle.
He darted around Badger’s horse to get to him before Badger could stand but he’d forgotten how uncannily quick the man was.
Already in a crouch, his knife in his hand, Badger hissed, “You son of a bitch.”
Fargo went for his Colt. He didn’t intend to kill Badger, only to wound him. But as he cleared leather Badger leaped and kicked. The impact sent the Colt spinning from his grasp. Fargo backpedaled and Badger’s blade narrowly missed cutting him open.
“Stop it! Please!” Sadie cried. “This has gotten out of hand.”
Neither Fargo nor Badger so much as glanced at her. Badger wagged his knife in circles, his eyes twin daggers.
“Make it easy on yourself. Sit down and keep your hands where I can see them and we’ll wait for the colonel.”
“I can’t do that,” Fargo said.
“Then it’s you and me,” Badger said, and came at him fast and low.
Badger thrust and Fargo sidestepped. He kicked at Badger’s face, only to have Badger dodge and grab his boot and wrench. Unbalanced, he fell onto his side. As he hit, he rolled. Pushing to his feet, he palmed the toothpick.
Fargo was forced to give way as the other scout unleashed a dazzling display of glittering steel. It was all he could do to keep from being stabbed or slashed. Badger was good, damn good, as good as he was.
Twisting, shifting, countering, always in sinuous motion, they were so intent on each other that they didn’t realize how close they were to the edge of the bank.
“Look out!” Sadie tried to warn them.
Fargo felt the ground give way. He threw himself aside and sought purchase for his boots but there was none to be had. He dropped like a rock.
The water was six inches deep, if that. He got some in his mouth and nose and sputtered as he rose.
“For God’s sake, stop the fight!” Sadie pleaded.
Badger surprised Fargo by saying, “It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“It does unless you’re willing to let us warn the village.”
“I can’t do that.”
“And I can’t let women and kids die.”
“Suit yourself.”
Badger feinted, half spun, and stabbed at Fargo’s ribs. Fargo blocked, did a spin of his own, and felt his blade bite flesh.
Badger retreated out of reach and stared at scarlet rivulets running along his forearm. “You’re the first to ever cut me.”
Fargo was given no time to reply. Badger flew at him as if possessed. He was forced to give way and backed into water that rose midway to his knees. Badger grinned, and he knew Badger had done it on purpose.
Badger pretended to feint, and Fargo’s counterthrust met empty air. There was a stinging sensation in his left thigh, and now he had scarlet spreading down his buckskins.
“Time to get this over with,” Badger said.
Fargo coiled. Badger came straight at him and drove blood-flecked steel at his throat. Instinctively, he whipped the toothpick up to block. He didn’t see Badger’s foot rising but he felt the kick that connected with his side and damn near fractured a rib. Recoiling, he held the toothpick in front of him to keep Badger at bay. But the other scout did a strange thing; he dropped onto his free arm and swung his body in a blur. Badger’s legs slammed into the back of Fargo’s, sweeping Fargo’s legs out from under him. Before Fargo could even think to try to recover, he was on his back, his head above the water.
Badger swept in. Fargo stiffened as his neck pricked to the sting of the tip of the other’s knife.
“Twitch and you die.”
Fargo turned to stone.
“Drop your knife.”
Fargo did.
“I don’t want to kill you, Skye,” Badger said.
Fargo didn’t reply. Any movement of his throat might drive the knife deeper.
“I want you to promise that you’ll sit here and wait for Colonel Carlson.”
Fargo yearned to rise up, to continue their fight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been whipped.
Badger applied pressure to his blade. “I don’t hear you.”
“You’d take me at my word?”
“You’re like me. When I give my word, I keep it. No matter what.” Badger paused. “Now, is it yes or no?”
“I give my word,” Fargo said, and grew hot all over at the humiliation.
Badger chuckled and stood. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? I’ll get a fire going and we’ll have some coffee while we wait.”
Sagebrush Sadie cleared her throat. “You’re forgetting about me.”
“Not likely,” Badger said. “You’ll wait here with us.”
“Like hell,” Sadie said, and went for her six-gun.
21
Emmett Badger had his knife in his gun hand. Sadie probably thought she could draw before he could drop the knife and go for his Colt. She was wrong. His Colt was out and pointed at her before she cleared leather.
Sadie did as Fargo had done—she imitated stone.
“That was plain dumb,” Badger said as his knife thwacked the ground at his feet.
Flushing red, Sadie took her hand off her revolver.
“I suppose you want me to give my word, too.”
“No,” Badger said.
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust you.”
Her flush deepened. “He’s a man so him you trust. I’m female, so me you don’t.”
“No,” Badger said. “I trust him because I’ve never heard tell of him breaking his word. I don’t trust you because you’re a conniving bitch.”
“Why, you miserable—” Sadie balled her fists and took a step.
Badger cocked his Colt, stopping her in her tracks. “If you think I won’t shoot, you’re mistaken. Fargo wouldn’t, because he treats women with respect. Me, I’d as soon gun a female as a male.”
“Ain’t you something?” Sadie said.
“Go ahead. Rile me. That’s real smart.” Badger motioned. “Unbuckle your gun belt, careful-like. Give me an excuse to squeeze this trigger and I by-God will.”
As Sadie pried at her buckle, she snapped, “You’re one of those, aren’t you? A hater of everything female.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Badger said. “I just think you have no business pretending to be a man.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Scouting is man’s work. No matter how good you get, you’ll always be half the scout most men can be.”
“Goddamn you.” Sadie looked at Fargo. “Did you hear him? This is exactly what I was talking about the other night. It’s why I have to work three times as hard to get half as much work. How fair is that?”
“Need a shoulder to cry on?” Badger taunted. “Maybe Skye will let you bawl on his.”
Sadie was a volcano about to explode. “I hate you,” she declared.
“I’ll try not to lose sleep over it.” Badger gestured. “Why is that gun belt still around your waist? You don’t have all day.”
With sharp, angry movements, Sadie cast it to the ground. “Happy now?”
“Take a seat next to Skye.”
Sulking, Sadie came over and sank down. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll see you pay for this.”
“Do you see my knees shaking?” Badger said.
Fargo was thinking about the Bannocks, and what he could say to convince Colonel Carlson to change his mind.
Sadie tore out a handful of grass and threw it at the water. “I reckon this has gone on long enough.”
Both Fargo and Badger said at the time, “What?”
“He’s held off because I told him not to do anything, but now I have no choice.” Sadie sighed. “I’d hoped that I wouldn’t have to show my hand.”
“What in hell are you babbling about now?” Badger demanded.
Sadie turned to Fargo. “Do you speak much Bannock?”
“Not much at all. Why?”
She looked at Badger. “How about you, woman-hater? You’ve been at Fort Carlson a while. You must have picked some up.”
“A few words here and there,” Badger said. “Is there a point to this?”
“Only that neither of you will have any idea what I’m saying,” Sadie said, and raising her voice, she called out in the Bannock tongue.
“What are you up to?” Badger demanded.
The answer came in the form of a whizzing shaft. It streaked out of the cottonwoods and buried itself in Badger’s back with a fleshy thwack. He was knocked forward and arched his spine, staring in disbelief at the barbed tip jutting from his chest. Then, without uttering a sound, he pitched to his knees and fell onto his side.
Sadie laughed.
Fargo started to rise but a tall Bannock, his face painted for war, strode out of the cottonwoods with another arrow notched to the bowstring and trained on him.
It was Thunder Hawk.
Again Sadie said something in the Bannock language. “I told him not to kill you,” she translated.
“Friend of yours?” Fargo said.
“Lover.”
“Oh hell.”
“His name is Thunder Hawk.” Sadie introduced him, unaware that Fargo had already encountered him. Rising, she stepped over to the Bannock and put an arm around his waist. “He’s the reason all this is happening.”
Thunder Hawk was naked from the waist up. He was well muscled, and when he looked at her his eyes said things his mouth never would unless they were alone.
“Care to enlighten me?” Fargo asked.
Sadie was about to respond when a rumble from the far end of the valley caused her to jerk her head up. “Carlson is closer than I thought.” Frowning, she scooped up her gun belt. “I should let Thunder Hawk kill you. He killed the other two. But I believe you when you say you want to help the Bannocks. So do I. It’s only fair, seeing as how they’re helping me.”
“I’m in the dark here.”
“I don’t have time to explain. I have to go warn the Bannocks about the colonel.” Sadie hurried to her horse and climbed on.
Fargo stared at the unwavering barbed arrowhead, and stayed where he was.
Sadie appeared to be wrestling with an internal conflict. She gnawed her lip. She looked up the valley. She looked down the valley. Finally she leaned on her saddle horn. “Listen, as soon as I’m gone, get on your horse and light a shuck for anywhere you want. The Snake River country. The Green River country. Anywhere but here.”
Fargo didn’t say anything.
“This isn’t over yet, and I’d hate for my friends to kill you, too. So please. I’m begging you. Get out of here and don’t come back.” Sadie drew her revolver, pointed it at him, and cocked it.
“Change your mind?”
She said something to Thunder Hawk, who lowered his bow and dashed into the cottonwoods.
“You fixing to shoot me?” If she was, Fargo would be damned if he’d go down without trying all in his power to kill her first.
“Not unless you make me,” Sadie said. She let out a long breath. “God, this is such a mess. I should have stopped it somehow. But I guess, secretly, I wanted it as much as they wanted to do it for me.”
“If riddles were gold, you’d be rich.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Sadie said. “When you do, don’t hold it against me.”
“Jed Crow and
Tennessee and Badger might.”
“Yeah, well,” Sadie said.
Hooves drummed, and around the stand came Thunder Hawk on a fine warhorse. He stopped next to her and said something, and when she shook her head, spoke sternly to her.
“He says,” Sadie translated, “that he is letting you live. But only because I want him to.”
“If you want my thanks, don’t hold your breath.”
“He says that you should take my advice and go. If you stay, he’ll count coup on you as he has the others.”
Fargo gave Thunder Hawk a cold smile. “Tell the son of a bitch he’s welcome to try.”
Sadie raised her reins. “This is good-bye, I hope. It’s for your own good to go.”
The rumble up the valley had grown louder. Sadie listened a moment, then addressed Thunder Hawk in his own tongue and the pair galloped off in the other direction, Thunder Hawk looking back as if he expected Fargo to try something.
Fargo might have, too. But just then Emmett Badger groaned.
Kneeling, Fargo rolled him onto his side. He felt for a pulse and found one, weak, but steady. “Tough as hell,” he said.
Badger’s eyes fluttered, and he coughed. “My ma didn’t raise puny sons.” He looked at the barbed tip. “Who?” he asked.
“A Bannock with the handle of Thunder Hawk,” Fargo said. “A friend of Sadie’s.”
“Take it out.”
“You should wait for the colonel,” Fargo suggested. There might be a medical officer with the column.
“What the hell for?” Badger grimaced. “It isn’t as if you haven’t done this before.”
Yes, Fargo had dug out his share of arrows, but still. “It’s awful close to your heart. Taking it out could kill you.”
“Leaving it in will kill me, too.”
“Hell,” Fargo said. Bending, he inspected where the arrow had entered Badger’s back. Carefully wrapping his left hand around the shaft, he gripped the arrow near the feathers with his other hand. “Ready?”
“Just do it, damn it.” Badger grit his teeth.
“On three,” Fargo said, and braced himself. “One. Two.” As he said three, he applied all his strength in a powerful wrench that snapped the feathered end off as neatly as if it were a dry stick. He tried not to let the arrow move but it was impossible to hold it completely steady.