Karshchov recovered, wiping at the tears in his eyes. “I will tell His Grace what has happened here.” He forced himself to take another look. “Strashanyi!”
“Were they married?” Gavin asked.
“Yes,” Karshchov said. “Now there are three widows. So sad.” He took a deep breath, further steadying himself. “Are we going to take them back?”
Gavin shook his head. “You don’t think their families should see this, do you?”
“No,” Karshchov said.
O’Hearn had already pulled his spade from his saddle pack. He looked at the Russian and laid his hand on his shoulder. “This ain’t the first time to see something like this for me, but I reckon it’s always just as bad.”
“Give me the shovel, please,” Karshchov said. “I prefer to make the graves myself. These are my people—brothers of blood to me.”
Gavin nodded to O’Hearn. “I think this is important to him.”
“Yes, sir,” O’Hearn said, handing over the tool. Gavin watched the Russian begin to dig, suddenly having a new and growing respect for him.
Six
The wagon train had been rolling slowly and steadily for almost five hours in a continuous, monotonous, swaying trek. The journey, like the surrounding vista of flat, open country, now held no one’s interest.
The travelers nodded and dozed with the gentle rocking caused by the flat, grassy prairie terrain. Others, walking alongside the wagons, were also lethargic on this journey which had now slipped into one of silence except for the occasional protesting squeaks from wheels that needed grease, a bit of murmuring between the people, or the thud of a dragoon mount’s hoof onto the soft earth.
The Russians were all travel-weary. After long weeks of journeying out of Asia, into northern Europe, a sea voyage, then more overland trekking, the former subjects of the czar neared the point of exhaustion.
Lieutenant Gavin MacRoss, however, was wide awake and alert to his surroundings. The longer they rolled along, the more he looked at his map and studied the countryside through which they traveled. Finally, satisfied that he knew their exact location, the army officer stood in his stirrups and looked around in all directions for one final time.
“Halt!” the lieutenant hollered out in a loud voice.
The startled people, along with the dragoons, reined in. There was a bit of bumping inside the wagons as some of the loads shifted slightly. Suddenly everyone was wide awake and a bit fearful as they peered around half expecting to see a horde of shrieking Indians appear from nowhere.
Gavin cantered over to Count Valenko’s wagon and gave him a cheerful salute. “We’ve arrived, Your Grace.”
Valenko held a musket in his hands. “Vhere?”
Gavin gestured all around. “My calculations say this is where you chose to establish your settlement.”
Valenko, now in a better mood, stood up on the seat and slowly turned as he took in the vast panorama around them.
“Are you sure, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“As sure as I can be without surveying instruments,” Gavin said. “But don’t worry. Even if you’re not exactly on the spot, you and your people can still claim this area, and any government land office will recognize your ownership through first rights of possession.”
“Then, ve are here, eh?” Valenko said. “This is Nadezhda.”
“Nadezhda, Kansas Territory,” Gavin reminded him. “A part of the United States of America.” He pointed outward. “See that creek? That’s the one shown on this map, and that curve there matches it exactly. For that reason I am absolutely positive we are in the exact location. This is where you chose to put down stakes.”
“Stakes? Vhat is this here stakes?” Valenko asked.
“Never mind, Your Grace,” Gavin replied with a grin. “You’ve no competition out here, so it won’t be necessary.”
Valenko jumped down from the wagon and kicked the blades of grass aside to reach down and grab a handful of dark earth. He crumbled it, letting the soil fall through his fingers.
“Is good this dirt,” the count said. “Is somethink I learn from serfs. They know the land and if it is good or if it is bad.”
“I’m no farmer,” Gavin said. “But from the way the wild plants grow, I would venture to say you are in a most fertile area.”
Valenko turned his attention to the Russians, shouting at them in their language and gesturing wildly. They cheered and waved back. He yelled again, and they began to drive their wagons into a protective circle. Valenko winked at Gavin. “Now you see, Lieutenant? I am learnink from you. Until ve got houses, ve keep vagons like this for protection.”
“Excellent idea, Your Grace,” Gavin said. “It looks like my job is done where you and your people are concerned.”
“You are not to be leavink us soon, I hope,” Valenko said. “I vould like if you vill spend some time vith us.”
“I regret that we are only able to stay overnight, thank you,” Gavin said. “I have some mapping to do between here and Fort Leavenworth. I must return to my duties.”
“Of course,” Valenko said. “You are a soldier, eh?”
“Yes,” Gavin said. “Soldiers have duties to perform, do they not?”
The Russian smiled, saying, “I am hopink it is truly duty that calls you from us. You are not mad because I yell at you vhen ve stop so many times, are you?”
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Gavin said. “Please let me assure you that no offense was taken.”
“Then, I inwite you to have supper vith me this ewenink,” Valenko said. “Irena vill cook good Russian food to send you off strong like ox.”
“I accept your invitation with thanks,” Gavin replied.
“Udivitelnya!” Valenko exclaimed. “I haf Russian wodka safed for special purpose. Tonight, ve drink some toasts to our friendship.”
“Thank you very much,” Gavin said. “I would be delighted to have drinks with you.” He saluted again. “I know you are busy, Your Grace, and I must speak to my men. Please excuse me.”
“Of course,” Valenko said. “Da skorogo!”
Gavin rode his horse down the line of circling wagons to where Sergeant Douglas waited. He passed the vehicles belonging to the widows of the men killed by the Cheyennes. It had been a terrible experience to bring back the news of their deaths.
The wives had immediately gone into uncontrollable hysterics, shrieking and wailing. Other women had to physically hold them back from harming themselves. It reminded Gavin of the time he’d seen some widows of slain Indian warriors cut themselves in their frenzy of grief.
After the women had calmed down some and returned to their senses late in the afternoon of the next day, they had demanded to know why the bodies hadn’t been brought back for burial by the group. Basil Karshchov tried to explain to them in the most delicate of terms that the cadavers had been mistreated by the Indians. When this didn’t satisfy the widows, the sensitive Russian had been forced to describe in some detail—but not fully—the condition of the corpses. Their only consolation came when Gavin informed them the men had obviously already been killed when the mutilations took place. At least they hadn’t been tortured to death.
The situation had also shaken Count Vladimir Aleksandrovich Valenko down to the core of his noble soul. In their private conversation about the killings, Karshchov had spared the old man nothing in his description of how the arrow-pierced and stripped bodies had been sliced and hacked into pieces until it was difficult to tell who was who among the trio of dead men.
After the conversation, an ashen-faced Valenko had sought out Gavin to apologize for giving him so much argument about all the worry concerning security from Indian attack.
Now, riding up to Sergeant Douglas, Gavin took the noncommissioned officer’s salute. The lieutenant smiled and shrugged. “Well, this part of the mission is accomplished, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir,” Douglas said. “We got ’em here safe and sound all right. When’re we heading back, sir?”
<
br /> “First thing in the morning,” Gavin answered. “We can spend a final evening with our Russian friends, I suppose. Only God knows when we’ll get a chance to see them again.”
“Especially the lady, huh, sir?” Douglas boldly asked. “What lady?” Gavin snapped.
“I’ve knowed you for some years now, sir,” Douglas said. “I ain’t never seen you look at a woman like you do that daughter of Count Valenko.”
“The lady is engaged to marry Mr. Karshchov,” Gavin said. “There is nothing more to say about it.”
“Yes, sir,” Douglas said.
Gavin turned to ride away, but he stopped and looked back at the sergeant. “Was it that obvious?”
“Only to me, sir,” Douglas assured him. He gave the younger man a paternal smile. “You’ll get over her, Lieutenant.”
Gavin nodded. “Of course.”
“She’s just one o’ many you’re gonna meet,” Douglas said. “A perty gal captures the heart, but another’n frees it from the first.”
“You’re right,” Gavin said.
“I’ll see to settling the men in and organizing a guard for the night,” Douglas said.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Gavin wanted to ride out in the country a bit to be by himself. He wasn’t as flippant as he appeared when it came to leaving Natalia Valenko. Deep in his heart he knew his affection for her was a lost cause, and the ache would be a bit easier to bear with some solitude.
The lieutenant purposely went out of sight and sound of the wagon train. A lone cottonwood stood a few hundred yards away. He rode directly to it and dismounted. After hobbling his horse to allow the animal some calm grazing on the grass, Gavin sat down in the shade cast by the leafy branches and leaned against the thick trunk.
Natalia Valenko certainly wasn’t the only pretty girl he’d known. But most of the others were obtainable. In fact, a couple had obviously set their caps for him, but he’d managed to avoid matrimony when army duties called him away for long absences. Gavin MacRoss admitted to himself that a couple of the young ladies could even be described as prettier than Natalia Valenko—though not much—and one had the added attraction of political connections through an uncle serving in the U.S. Senate. Such a situation had the potential of being very advantageous to an army-officer husband.
Yet, Natalia had a charm about her. Her voice was soothing and melodious in a nice way, and her smile warmed his heart. The way she walked and moved was pure feminine charm that could capture any man’s admiring glances. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t love Gavin MacRoss; she loved Basil Karshchov.
“Goddamn it!” Gavin cursed and got to his feet. “This is ridiculous! I can’t sit here and brood, for God’s sake! I’ll forget her after a while anyhow.” The he sadly added, “At least I hope so!”
The lieutenant quickly unhobbled the horse and swung back into the saddle to ride back to the wagon train. He vowed that in the future when he began to think of Natalia Valenko, he would consciously smother the image and turn his mind to something else.
Gavin was glad to see the wagons were in a tight circle, arranged so that everybody could cover the neighbor on either side of them in the event of an Indian attack. Valenko and his people were fast learners. He was also sure that the terrible deaths suffered by three of their members had impressed them about the very real danger they faced out on the prairie.
As the lieutenant rode into the middle of the vehicles, he noticed the Russians all gathered at one end of the circle. A couple of off-duty dragoons, O’Hearn and Carlson, also stood there. Curious as to what had attracted their attention, Gavin turned his horse in that direction and cantered across the open space.
O’Hearn saw the lieutenant ride up. He grabbed the bridle of the officer’s horse as Gavin dismounted. After rendering a salute, he announced, “Them Russians is flogging one o’ their men.”
Gavin pushed his way through the crowd to find a shirtless man tied by the wrists to a wagon wheel. Another Russian, large and muscular, held a short length of rope. From the look of the prisoner’s back, he had already been given three or four good, blood-drawing blows.
“Hold on!” Gavin shouted. “What’s going on here?”
Valenko stepped away from where he stood with Irena. “Ve got a man vhat talk vithout respect to me!” He glowered. “To me! Count Vladimir Aleksandrovich Valenko!”
“That’s too bad, Your Grace,” Gavin said. “But you have no right to have him beaten.”
“Vhat? Vhat?” roared Valenko. “I am member of nobility!”
“That’s true,” Gavin agreed. “But you haven’t the authority to order a civilian beaten for exercising his constitutional rights.”
“Rights?” Valenko questioned. “He don’t got no rights! He is serf! A peasant! My property!”
“Maybe in Russia, Your Grace,” Gavin said. “But here, unless a person is black, he can’t be owned by anybody. I might add that there’s many an American working on changing that cruelty, too.”
“But—but,” sputtered Valenko. “He call me stupid; he says I am wrong about setting up town. Then he tell me to close my mouth!”
“That’s the freedom of speech guaranteed everybody,” Gavin said. “Besides, he wasn’t given a choice of staying in Russia or coming out here, was he?”
“Of course not!” Valenko said. He glared at the man who dared to speak back to him. “Bah! I will have him beat!” Valenko turned back to the man with the rope whip. “Besprerviya!”
The man raised the device to strike as the prisoner braced himself for more painful hits to his back.
Gavin yanked his revolver free of its holster and fired the weapon straight into the air. Everyone jumped, including the whipper, who looked in alarm from Count Valenko back to Gavin.
“If you have the man struck again, I will arrest you and take you back to Fort Leavenworth for trial,” Gavin declared. “That goes for the man carrying out the punishment, too. This is federal territory, and as an army officer I am charged with enforcing United States law out here.”
“Vhat you talkink about?” Valenko asked. “I see your sergeant hang the two soldiers from tree by hands for bother Irena!”
“That is permitted by Army Regulations,” Gavin said. “Even in Russia, is not military law more severe than civil law?”
“A little,” Valenko said. “But only a little. But not for serfs who don’t got the respect for their masters.”
“You are not his master,” Gavin said. “If he chooses to follow you, then he may. If he chooses to leave you, then he may.”
“Then, how do we punish wrongdoers?” Valenko demanded to know.
“First, make sure they are truly wrongdoers,” Gavin admonished him. “Talking back to you is not a crime. I hope you will remember that, Your Grace.”
“Then, vhat ve do vith criminals, eh?” Valenko asked. “Vhat ve do vith thiefs?”
“Banish them from your midst, if you will,” Gavin said. “But any penalty must be according to law and the processes provided. If any of the people of Nadezhda commit a serious crime, you must bring them to Fort Leavenworth for trial and any punishment if they are found guilty.”
Basil Karshchov stepped forward. He held a small pamphlet. “I have here a copy of the United States Constitution that I bought while we were in Boston. Must we go by this?”
“Yes,” Gavin said. “Read it to everyone here, so they can understand the Bill of Rights and other provisions of the document. If you don’t break the rules in the Constitution, then you’ll be all right.”
Valenko kicked at the ground in anger. He muttered in Russian, and the bound man was freed. Then the count turned and faced Gavin. “Do not forget! Dinner tonight! Ve drink wodka!”
“I’ll be there,” Gavin promised. “You’re not angry with me, are you?”
Valenko thought a moment; then he smiled. “Nyet, my young friend. I have no anger for you. Alvays you are teachink me somethink, are you not?”
“I’m certainly trying,” G
avin said.
“Remember! Don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” Gavin said. He took his horse from O’Hearn and led the animal toward the dragoon camp where Sergeant Douglas lounged by the small cook fire. “I’d like to have a word with you in private, Sergeant Douglas.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant stood up and accompanied the officer on a short stroll out of earshot of the other dragoons.
“Did you hang McRyan and Costello by their wrists for attacking that young Russian woman?” Gavin asked.
“Yes, sir,” Douglas answered in a flat voice.
“Some time ago, I ordered you to dispense with such harsh punishments,” Gavin said.
“No, sir,” Douglas said. “Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but you told me to consider not giving out tough licks.”
Gavin sighed. “I suppose I did, but you know I disapprove of discipline that is either extremely painful or humiliating. I don’t care if Army Regulations permits it or not.”
“They deserved what I done, sir,” Douglas said stubbornly.
“It’s all right to give men extra duty,” Gavin argued. “Even hard labor such as digging deep holes or chopping down trees. There is at least a semblance of dignity in work.”
“Are you ordering me not to apply ropes or kicks and punches no more, sir?” Douglas said.
“Yes, Sergeant Douglas, I am,” Gavin said. “I respect you very much and consider you a friend, you know that.”
“Yes, sir,” Douglas said. “I’m happy to have your friendship, sir. It don’t always happen in the army between an enlisted man and an officer. We got a proper way between us, and we can speak plain and still keep military respect mixed with kindly feelings for each other.”
“I hope you understand how I feel,” Gavin said. “No, sir, I don’t,” Douglas said. “I’m just an old-fashion soldier, and always will be.”
“But an excellent one,” Gavin interjected.
“Thank you, sir,” Douglas said. “I reckon you know I won’t do nothing behind your back.”
“I do,” Gavin said.
Comanchero Blood (A Dragoons Western Book 2) Page 6