“Well, then, I reckon I can stay here to help out if I’m needed.”
Preacher clapped a hand on Lorenzo’s shoulders.
“Good. That’s a load off my mind.”
Now that the wounded young man had told his story, the warriors were already making plans to go after the raiders. Two Bears seemed to be taking charge. Even though Bent Leg was the chief of the band, in times of trouble a younger man could assume command as a war chief. Obviously that was Two Bears’ role.
Followed by Audie and Nighthawk, Preacher approached Two Bears and said in the Assiniboine tongue, “The three of us are coming with you.”
Two Bears scowled at the mountain man.
“No one asked you to accompany us.”
“No one has to ask,” Preacher said. “For as long as we are here with your people, our hearts are Assiniboine.”
“No white man’s heart can be Assiniboine,” Two Bears snapped. He looked at Nighthawk. “Nor any Crow’s.”
“Wait,” Bent Leg said. “You would turn down the help of a true warrior such as Preacher? Little Man and the Crow are respected fighters as well.”
“They are not of our people!” Two Bears insisted.
“A wise man does not go into a fight with less strength than he might have had otherwise, solely because he is stubborn.” Bent Leg’s voice was hard as flint. Two Bears might be in charge of the war party, but Bent Leg’s tone left no doubt as to who was the ultimate authority in this band of Assiniboine.
“Very well,” Two Bears said through clenched teeth. “The white men and the Crow will go with us.”
Bent Leg crossed his arms over his chest and nodded solemnly.
“But I will not save them at the cost of Assiniboine blood,” Two Bears added with a fierce look.
“Nobody’s askin’ you to,” Preacher said. “We’ll take care of ourselves, don’t worry about that.”
“If that’s settled,” Audie said, “we’d better go gather our gear and say farewell to the ladies.”
“Umm,” Nighthawk agreed.
Preacher returned to his lodge to get his rifle, powderhorn, shot pouch, and extra pistols. By the time he reached the brush corral where the horses were kept, Audie and Nighthawk were there, too, readying their mounts for the trip. Dog padded along behind Preacher, going wherever the mountain man went, as usual.
Horse greeted Preacher with a toss of his head. After a few days here in the Assiniboine village, the rangy gray stallion appeared to be ready to get out and stretch his legs. Preacher felt the same way, which was why he had suggested the hunting trip.
Unfortunately, they were going to be hunting men, and he wished that breaking the routine of village life hadn’t come at the cost of two young men’s lives.
It didn’t take long to saddle Horse. The three men led their mounts back to the center of the village where the rest of the war party was gathering.
The warriors were saying good-bye to their women. Preacher spotted Raven’s Wing moving through the crowd and thought she was probably there to tell Two Bears to be careful and wish him well.
Instead, she stepped up to Preacher, facing him from a distance of less than a foot. She lifted her arms and put them around his neck, then pressed her mouth to his in the sort of kiss that white men and women exchanged.
Raven’s actions took Preacher by surprise. He supposed he could have avoided her embrace if he had tried hard enough. Maybe deep down he didn’t want to, he thought as she kissed him. He had been leading Horse, but now his left hand dropped the stallion’s reins, and that arm went instinctively around Raven’s waist. She moved closer, pressed her body into his.
“White man!”
The loud, angry voice belonged to Two Bears. The warrior’s exclamation didn’t surprise Preacher. He figured that was exactly the sort of response Raven intended to provoke when she kissed him in front of everybody like that. She was declaring herself to be Preacher’s woman.
He wasn’t expecting Two Bears to grab him, though, and that was what happened. Two Bears’ hand came down hard on Preacher’s shoulder and jerked him around, tearing him away from Raven’s embrace.
The warrior wasn’t content with breaking them apart, though. He threw a fist at Preacher’s face.
The mountain man reacted to that as instinctively as he had to Raven’s actions. He pulled his head aside so that Two Bears’ fist shot past his ear. That missed blow threw Two Bears off balance and made him stumble forward a step.
Preacher hooked a punch of his own that landed solidly on Two Bears’ jaw. The impact twisted the warrior’s head to the side but didn’t put him out, or even knock him down.
Instead, Two Bears caught himself and roared in anger as he lunged forward and grabbed Preacher, locking his arms around the mountain man’s torso as he drove Preacher backward.
Preacher’s feet came off the ground. Two Bears was a big, powerful man, and he had some momentum behind him. Preacher chopped at his attacker’s head, but he couldn’t stop Two Bears from slamming him to the ground. Two Bears landed on top of him, and that weight drove the air from Preacher’s lungs.
Over the pounding of his own pulse in his ears, Preacher vaguely heard the shouts of the crowd. He figured most of the Assiniboine were rooting for Two Bears in this fight.
But the whole thing was crazy. They shouldn’t even be fighting, he thought. They were on the same side, and they had prisoners to rescue.
Meanwhile, Two Bears pressed his left forearm across Preacher’s throat, keeping him from drawing in the air he needed to replace what he’d lost. Preacher hammered a fist into Two Bears’ ribs, trying to dislodge him, but the warrior shrugged it off.
Two could play at this choking game. Preacher’s right hand shot up and the fingers locked around Two Bears’ throat. Using that grip as leverage, he was finally able to throw Two Bears to the side and get the man’s crushing weight off his chest. They rolled over, and Preacher dragged some air back into his lungs at last.
He drove a knee into Two Bears’ belly and hung on to the warrior’s throat. Two Bears slugged and kicked at him, but Preacher hung on. He got his other hand around Two Bears’ neck, and with that grip he was able to lift the man’s head and slam it back into the ground a couple of times. Two Bears’ struggles became weaker, but they didn’t stop completely.
“Preacher! Preacher, that’s enough!”
Slowly, Preacher became aware of the urgent voice yelling at him. He recognized it as Audie’s. Blinking, Preacher shook his head and looked around. Audie and Nighthawk flanked him protectively, but they were all surrounded by the Assiniboine warriors, most of whom looked angry.
“Preacher, you’d better let him go,” Audie went on. “If you choke him to death, things aren’t going to go well for us.”
Audie was right, of course. Preacher knew that. He had just let his own instincts and the battle fever that gripped him get the best of him. Whenever somebody attacked him, he fought back. That reaction was as much a part of him as breathing.
And he usually fought back to kill, because most of the time the varmint he was fighting with wanted to kill him.
In this case, though, it was just jealous rage that had prompted Two Bears to jump him. Preacher let go of the warrior’s throat and heaved himself to his feet. Two Bears lay there, dark of face because of his near-suffocation, and heaved rasping breaths.
Bent Leg stood nearby, glaring at him.
“I’m sorry, Chief—” Preacher began.
Bent Leg silenced him with an upraised hand.
“It is not your fault,” he said. “Two Bears attacked you. You merely fought back. I would expect nothing less for a warrior of the Assiniboine, even a … winter warrior.” The chief looked around at the others and raised his voice as he continued, “This was a fight between two men over a woman. Nothing more. They will settle it between themselves … but not now. Now, two of our young men are dead, and others are in danger, captives of the hated Gros Ventre. Have you all forgott
en this?”
Two Bears struggled to his feet.
“My apologies, Bent Leg,” he said in a hoarse voice. “If you wish me to remove myself as war chief—”
“No!” Bent Leg’s voice was firm. “Go, and bring back our young men. Punish the Gros Ventre! And there will be no more trouble over the affections of my niece while this is going on. Do you understand?”
Two Bears bent his head.
“Your word is law, my chief.”
“I’m agreeable to that, too,” Preacher said.
“Very well.” Bent Leg motioned toward the eastern part of the valley. “Our enemies are fleeing, even as we speak. Find them! Kill them!”
“We ride,” Two Bears told the members of the war party. He started toward his horse.
The others followed suit. As Preacher mounted up, he looked around for Raven’s Wing. He didn’t see her. Maybe she was ashamed of what she had done and was hiding her face because she was embarrassed.
He had a hunch she wasn’t all that ashamed, though. He had a hunch she was the sort of woman who knew what she wanted and figured it was her right to go after it, any way she pleased.
And if that meant raising a little hell along the way, so be it.
Nighthawk lifted Audie into the saddle and then swung up onto his own pony. The three visitors fell in with the war party. Two Bears gave Preacher a grim nod.
Preacher understood what the warrior meant by that. Two Bears wouldn’t go against Bent Leg’s orders. For now, Two Bears and Preacher were allies, and each of them could trust the other with his life.
But when this rescue mission was over, if both of them returned alive to the village, then it would be a different story. A very different story …
One that might well end in blood.
CHAPTER 11
The wounded young Assiniboine, whose name was Stormbreaker, was in no shape to go with the war party to show them where he and the others had been attacked.
He was able to give good directions to the spot to Two Bears, though, and since the war chief knew every inch of the valley, he would have no trouble finding it.
The warriors took enough provisions with them to last for several days, in case the pursuit turned into a lengthy one. Preacher’s saddlebags held a good supply of jerky, flatbread, and pemmican. There was plenty of game in these mountains, too, if it turned out that they needed fresh meat. They might not want to risk a shot, but snares could always be set for rabbits.
In most situations, Preacher just naturally took the lead. That wasn’t the case here. He didn’t push himself to the front of the group. He was content to ride in the middle of the bunch with Audie and Nighthawk and let Two Bears lead the way.
A couple of hours after leaving the village, they reached the site of the ambush. The bodies of the two fallen Assiniboine young men were still there, each riddled with arrows. Two Bears picked out a couple of men to take the bodies back to the village, and then the others pushed on.
It was impossible to flee quickly through these woods without leaving some sign, and after taking prisoners, the Gros Ventre had been more interested in speed than stealth. So the trail wasn’t difficult to follow. After a while, Preacher realized that it was leading generally in the direction of a notch in the rugged ridge that formed the western boundary of the valley.
No matter how Two Bears felt about him, Preacher didn’t want to ride into anything blind. He pushed Horse up alongside Two Bears’ mount and said to the war chief, “It’s been a while since I’ve been in these parts. Refresh my memory. What’s on the other side of that ridge?”
“Badlands,” Two Bears replied curtly. “Many gullies and more ridges. There are paths that lead through, but it is easy to get lost if one does not know the way.”
“And beyond that?”
“The area controlled by the Gros Ventre.”
Preacher nodded. Something else had occurred to him, so since Two Bears seemed willing to talk right now, he went on, “Those two young men back there were killed with arrows.”
“Yes. Gros Ventre arrows.” Two Bears’ voice was full of anger and bitterness.
“The bunch that attacked us, the ones who captured Raven’s Wing, they were armed with rifles.”
Preacher knew it might be a mistake to bring up Raven’s Wing, but he really wanted to satisfy his curiosity.
Two Bears’ face hardened at the mention of the woman’s name, but he said, “The Gros Ventre possess a few old rifles. Trade muskets. Not very good. Since Snake Heart was sending those men into Assiniboine territory, he must have armed them with the best weapons he had.”
“We shouldn’t be outgunned too badly, then, once we catch up to them.”
“If they have rifles, there will only be one or two. And they may blow up when they are fired.”
Preacher nodded. If Two Bears was right about that—and Preacher had no reason to doubt the war chief’s word—it was possible that the rifles and pistols carried by the two white men and the Crow might be enough to swing the odds in their favor, even if the raiding party outnumbered them.
Preacher knew how much damage a man armed with a bow and a quiver full of arrows could do—he was a pretty fair hand with a bow himself—but powder and shot usually trumped arrows.
They began climbing toward the notch. Preacher wasn’t sure they would reach it before nightfall, and the Gros Ventre had a lead on them. If their quarry made it into the badlands today, the Assiniboine might not be able to follow them.
“Can you get through that mess you told me about in the dark?” he asked Two Bears.
The war chief shook his head.
“No one can, not even the Gros Ventre. They will make camp somewhere on the other side and wait for daylight.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Two Bears glared.
“You asked me a question, white man, and I answered it.”
“Fair enough,” the mountain man said.
“But we will continue to climb,” Two Bears went on. “By morning they will not be far ahead of us.”
Preacher nodded. It sounded like a reasonable plan, although it meant they would be traveling in darkness, which was often a risky proposition.
Preacher and his companions, along with the Assiniboine, were very watchful as they pressed on during the slate-gray afternoon. It was possible, though unlikely, that the Gros Ventre would double back and try to ambush them.
There was a much better chance the raiders had lit a shuck out of the valley as soon as they grabbed those prisoners. They probably wouldn’t try anything fancy. Only a fool didn’t keep his eyes open, though.
Given the time of year and the overcast skies, it was still early when the light began to fade. Dusk started to settle down when the war party was still a couple of miles shy of the notch.
True to his word, though, Two Bears kept the men moving. They were lined up on the gap in the ridge that was their destination, and as long as they kept going in a straight line, they ought to reach it without much trouble.
Another worry started to nag at Preacher. He had considered it unlikely that the Gros Ventre would double back and ambush them here in the Assiniboine valley … but that gap up there was another story. He tilted his head back and took a good look at it before all the light faded away, and what he saw confirmed his hunch.
That gap in the ridge was a perfect place for a trap.
It was only wide enough for a few riders to pass through it at a time. Once the war party, some thirty strong, was strung out, even a much smaller force could do considerable damage to it in a short period of time.
If the Gros Ventre were smart, they could split their force and send some of their warriors ahead with the prisoners, while the rest found hiding places that commanded a field of fire in that gap.
Then all they would have to do was sit and wait for the Assiniboine to show up. A couple of volleys of arrows would thin their ranks in a hurry.
Preacher had fallen back to ride with
Audie and Nighthawk, but now he pushed ahead to come alongside Two Bears again.
“Are we gonna stop and make camp this side of the gap?” he asked.
“I told you, we must cut down their lead. We will stop on the other side of the gap.”
“You’re gonna ride through there in the dark?”
Two Bears didn’t look over at Preacher, but the sneer was evident in his voice as he said, “Are you afraid of the dark, white man?”
“No, but what’s in it can make me a mite nervous sometimes. What if the Gros Ventre split up and left some men behind to ambush anybody who rides through the gap?”
Two Bears shook his head.
“They are too stupid and cowardly for that. Now that they have prisoners, they want only to get back to their own land as soon as they can.”
“You seem mighty certain about that.”
“They are my enemies, not yours. I know them better than you do.”
“They’re pretty much the same thing as Blackfeet, and I know Blackfeet. They can be tricky critters when they want to.”
“We must catch them before they get through the badlands. We will keep moving as long as we can.”
Preacher saw that it wasn’t going to do any good to keep arguing. In fact, it might have been a mistake for him to even say anything to Two Bears. The war chief was going to disagree with whatever he said, just on general principles. He was too mad at Preacher to listen and really hear.
With a sigh, Preacher fell back again. Audie asked, “What were you and His Nibs talking about?”
“He plans for us to ride on through the gap in the ridge tonight and make camp on the other side.”
Audie frowned.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“I’m not, either,” Preacher said, “but he pretty much told me to go climb a stump.”
“Because he’s angry with you over Raven’s Wing.”
“And because he’s a proud, stubborn varmint to start with.”
“Umm,” Nighthawk said.
Preacher’s Fury Page 7