Blood

by Cheryl Twaddle

  “Greetings,” said the leader who sat upon a tall, black stallion. Max was impressed with his strong voice. This was a man that commanded with an inner power; more dangerous than those who seemed in control but weren’t. This man would have followers that would do anything for him, no questions asked. That was the kind of power a man like him would have. Max knew he should be careful but he was desperate and needed help.

  “Cheers, mate,” Max said, not caring that he was standing naked, with no weapon.

  “You speak funny,” said the leader. “Where do you come from?”

  “Scotland,” answered Max. “But that was a long time ago.”

  “Is that not across the great water?” Max nodded. “How did you get here?”

  “I was working on a ship when I fell down here,” Max explained, squinting his eyes in the sun and wincing at the pain this had caused him. “I landed in the middle of the great water and swam for the shore. I’ve been here ever since.”

  “Hmmm,” pondered the leader. “I’ve never seen this before. Your arrival is unprecedented.”

  “I’d like to think I’m one of a kind,” Max said bringing a smile to the leader’s face.

  “You are with wit, I see,” the leader said. “Even in your current state. What happened to your clothes?”

  “Well, you see there were these women...” Max started.

  “Say no more,” said the leader. “Women are the cause of every man’s most trying times. You need clothes, water, food. We have all of that and will take care of you. You can not stay out here much longer or you will die.” The man got off his horse and walked over to Max.

  “I am Howling Wolf,” he held out his hand, a gesture he learned in the white man school. Max shook it and felt the strength in the man’s grip.

  “I’m Max,” he said.

  “Men,” Howling Wolf addressed his men. “We will stop here for the night and help Max out; give him the rest he deserves.” Howling Wolf knew the Scottish man probably deserved what he got. He could smell the alcohol on his breath and he felt the arrogance that emitted from his pores. It didn’t matter; his blood would be just as good as anyone else’s, maybe even better. He could make it seem like the sins committed by this man could be absorbed through each of them, making them stronger than ever before. First, though, he had to clean him up; cleanse his blood of the alcohol that poisoned his body. Nobody would want a taste of such tainted blood. They would make camp for three days; by then the Scottish man would be ready for sacrifice.

  It didn’t take long for Max to realize he had made a mistake letting Howling Wolf and his men help him. There was something not right about the native leader. For one thing, he had a real god complex. It wasn’t like he struggled with god or religion, it was more like he thought he was a god. At least, he wanted his men to think he was a god.

  Max could tell that Howling Wolf didn’t believe in any of it but made sure that his men did. He saw the way he studied them when he gave orders. He was always judging how they talked to him; to see if they truly believed that he held the power of a god. He was always quick to turn their doubt into lessons and speeches that kept their attention on him and his word. He was good, Max thought, he knew exactly what people needed when they came to this world. They needed to feel safe; to feel like they weren’t abandoned down here. They needed to know there was a god looking out for them. Men were funny that way. They just couldn’t except that life just happened, for no reason whatsoever, life was just there. They needed to know there was an invisible force keeping them all safe and as long as they did what their god told them, they would be the chosen few who would be rewarded with riches for their loyalty.

  Max saw all this but didn’t say a word. He would stay one more day then he would sneak away in the middle of the night before Howling Wolf realized that Max could see right through him. It wouldn’t be easy, though, his every move was being watched. Then, on his first night, he got an unexpected surprise that would guarantee his freedom.

  It was the middle of the night and Max was feeling a little sick. He had come to rely on alcohol so much over the past few years that not having any made him shake and feel feverish. He knew it would pass but until it did he would feel sick from the wanting. He lay in his newly acquired sleeping bag on his side, his eyes closed, trying to fight the nausea in his stomach. He could hear a few of the men talking. They must have thought he was asleep.

  “Do you think we should?” asked one of the men.

  “Would you rather wait for that crazy Indian to kill us?” asked another.

  “No,” said the first, “but if we get caught, he’ll kill us.”

  “All the more reason to do it quickly,” said a third. “We can wait until sacrifice night, that’s only a day away. We do it while he’s busy slitting the Scott’s throat. We wait until he’s dipped his cup then we shoot the arrows from our posts. Hopefully, we all hit the target but, even if just one of hits him, it should be enough to bring him down. If we have to, we’ll finish the job with a knife. By then, the others will see what we’re doing and, hopefully, help us.”

  Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sacrifice night? What was that? And what did they mean by slitting the Scott’s throat? Was that what Howling Wolf had planned for him? He recognized that he was using a phony religious spiel on these men but human sacrifices? That was carrying it a little too far. He now knew that there was no way he’d be able to sneak out in the middle of the night. He had to come up with another plan to stop Howling Wolf from sacrificing him to his made-up god. He opened his eyes just a sliver to try and see who was talking. They weren’t very far from him and he thought them fools to be hashing out a plan this close to him. Did they really think they wouldn’t be heard?

  “What if they don’t?” asked the first one. Max could hear the fear in his voice. This was a good thing. If this man was so afraid of Howling Wolf, there must be a reason. Maybe he could save his life after all and still give the crowd a sacrifice. He knew what to do. All he needed was ten minutes alone with their messiah. He closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from shaking. He cursed the alcohol that had turned his body against him and swore that, if he got out of this alive, he would never drink again.

  The next day saw Max receive gifts of food and water. Some of the men gave up some of their clothes for him to wear but, then again, why wouldn’t they? They probably figured they’d get them back after the sacrifice anyway. He knew they were trying to fatten up the calf before the slaughter and he played along with them, pretending to be grateful for everything they gave him. He had stopped shaking by mid-morning and his fever had subsided. He still had a craving for a shot of whiskey but he could control that. He wanted to meet with Howling Wolf while he felt good enough to. He got his chance after a supper of dried fruit and roasted rabbit.

  “Your cook is good,” Max said as he took a seat beside Howling Wolf. The man was finally on his own, the nearest follower far enough away not to hear them. This was his opportunity to tell him about the planned mutiny. “This food is pretty good.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling good enough to eat,” he said. “You were not at your best last night.”

  “No,” Max smiled. “I think I’ve dabbled with the liquor bottle too many times. Last night was a sign that I should quench my thirst with water from now on.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Howling Wolf. “Alcohol is white man’s poison. Eventually it will kill you. You are a smart man for learning your lesson before that happened.”

  “Yes, I am,” said Max. “I believe you’re a lucky man to have so many men under your command. It must be hard to keep them all happy.”

  “If you give them reason, men will do almost anything,” Howling Wolf said as he looked over his men.

  “Is that what you give them, reason?” Max asked and the warrior turned to look him in the eye.

  “It’s worked so far,” he said.

  “So it has,” said Max, “but, surely, there are
some that question your authority?”

  “Do you have something you would like to tell me young, Max?” Howling Wolf was staring into Max’ eyes, looking like he could perform the sacrifice right here, right now.

  “I wanted to let you know how grateful I am that you helped me,” Max started. “I would also like you to know that if anything or anyone, was going to do you harm I would tell you. I would have no reason to lie. You’ve saved my life and I am in your debt.”

  “Yes?”

  “Last night I overheard a conversation that both disturbed me,” said Max, “and, quite frankly, made me worry for your life.”

  “My life?” Howling Wolf looked angry and Max could see why the man who questioned the success of the assassination was so scared last night.

  “Yes,” he said. “Three of your men are planning to kill you.”

  “Three of my men?” Howling Wolf showed no emotion. Max couldn’t tell if the information was a shock or if the man had his suspicions all along.

  “Yes, they want to do it tomorrow while you’re slitting my throat for the sacrifice,” Max showed no sign of fear or anger at his statement. He just relayed the information as if his death was not a part of it. This took Howling Wolf by surprise. He had never met a white man who talked so bravely when his life was in danger.

  “Who are they?” Max looked around the camp until he saw the three men. They were sitting together, finishing their supper and laughing.

  “That’s them,” Max whispered and nodded his head towards the trio. “Over by the pile of blankets.”

  “What is their plan?” Still no emotion.

  “Each has a bow and arrow,” Max explained. “They plan to take positions on either side of you and one in the crowd. When you slit my throat they’ll shoot their arrows, hopefully hitting you from each position. They want your murder to be a rallying cry for the others so that, if they fail and you are still alive, they’ll join in to finish you off.”

  “That’s the plan?” Howling Wolf didn’t seem impressed by it. “They’d be better off to wait until I’m sleeping and kill me then. Fools! Thank you Max for telling me this.”

  “Well, like I said, I owe a debt to you for all you’ve done for me,” Max was feeling a little relieved but something told him it was to be short-lived.

  “I will wait until the ceremony,” said Howling Wolf, “and I will catch them in the act. I will say nothing to them until then. Thank you, again, Max. You may go now.”

  “Wait, you’re still going on with the ceremony?” Max couldn’t believe that his head was still on the chopping block.

  “Yes, Max, the ceremony will still take place,” Howling Wolf looked the Scott in the eye and Max shuddered under the stare. This man was more terrifying than any other he had encountered, including some of the pirates he sailed with. “I know nothing of you. How can I trust a word of a naked drunkard? If you are telling me something false only to gain your freedom, I will still happily slit your throat and bathe in your blood but if you are telling me the truth, I will be in your debt for the rest of my life. Now, go. I will see you tomorrow.”

  Max spent the rest of the evening and the next day searching for ways to escape. He didn’t like the fact that the ceremony was still going to take place. What if the men got scared and didn’t try their little coup de tat? He wanted to find an alternate way to deal with saving his life but everywhere he went there were two or three men watching him, following him. He wasn’t left alone for a minute. So, he sat back and accepted their food offerings and gifts and kept an eye on the three men who held his life in their hands. In the evening, about a half hour after a huge supper that was practically shoved down his throat, the preparations for the ceremony began.

  Two men grabbed his arms and tied them behind his back while a third bond his feet with rope. Then a huge man grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder. He was taken a little way outside the camp where an apparatus had been erected. He looked at it and wondered when they had built gallows; he never heard any hammers and they weren’t that far from camp. Already the about eighty per cent of the camp were there and the rest were arriving every minute.

  He spotted Howling Wolf standing by the structure and got the feeling that he was going to go through with the sacrifice no matter what. He stood, shirtless, his long hair plaited into two braids and wrapped in beads. There was a table behind him with a clay bowl sitting on top, a small cup beside it. Max saw a knife laid out and decorated with more beads and feathers. This must be the knife that will kill me, he thought then shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. He wasn’t going to die, the three men would make their attempt and his life would be spared.

  He was carried up the steps of the gallows and wondered how his throat was going to be slit when he would have a noose around it but he soon learned how that was going to happen. Two men were waiting for him when he was placed on his back on the platform. They took the noose he assumed was for his neck and wrapped it around his feet then swung him, dangling upside down, towards Howling Wolf who now stood with the knife in his hand.

  Max felt sweat start to form on his brow. This was getting a little too close for his comfort. He searched the crowd for the three men, looking from left to right but saw nothing. If the men didn’t make their move soon he would be dead.

  “Attention everyone,” Howling Wolf started. “This man has come to us in a time of great need. He has appeared out of nowhere as if sent by the gods themselves. We have saved his life from the poisonous alcohol that filled his veins. Now, we must pay tribute to the gods and return his cleansed body back to them. We must take his blood and drink it as its newfound purity will give us strength and sustain us in our new life down here. Thank you, oh gods, for your gift of life giving blood.”

  “Thank you, oh gods, for your gift of life giving blood,” the crowd all spoke in unison, repeating Howling Wolf’s words. He then turned and faced the Scott. Max searched the crowd, frantically trying to locate the three men. There was movement to his left! He turned to see one of the men raise his bow. Max looked up at Howling Wolf and was surprised to see him already in the motion of throwing the knife at the would be murderer. He had no intention on ever using the knife on Max. He just had to make his attackers believe he would. The knife hit the man between the eyes, killing him instantly. Chaos broke out as the other two men tried to hide their bows but they were quickly surrounded and brought to Howling Wolf.

  Max watched it all while he helplessly dangled upside down, hoping that Howling Wolf would keep his word and spare his life. The warrior ordered his men to take Max down and watched as they attached a second noose to the gallows. They then placed the nooses around the necks of the two traitors. Howling Wolf turned and addressed the crowd.

  “It seems as if we have traitors among us. It was through the help of my new friend, Max, that I have uncovered their plan.” He made it sound as if he and Max had been friends from the beginning and that they discovered the treasonous plan together. Max didn’t care about the lies; as long as he was free. “These men have sin in their hearts and their blood has been tainted. We can not drink of their blood for it will only darken our souls. However, the gods would not want these men to remain in our family knowing that they wish me dead. I will give them a sentence worthy of their crime. Treason is punishable by death.” He nodded to the man working the gallows who swung out the two men over the bowl that was intended to hold Max’ blood. It was a slow death as they struggled to break free but, eventually, their bodies went still and they were dead.

  “I owe you my life,” Howling Wolf said to Max as he untied him. “I will be in debt to you forever. If you want to stay and help me command, I will welcome you to our group.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” said Max, “but I’m a man who likes to be on his own. I like the freedom that only solitude can give me.”

  “Very well,” Howling Wolf said, “I will give you food and clothes for your journey. You may leave whenever you wa
nt and I wish you luck wherever you go.”

  Chapter 14

  Max entered Howling Wolf’s camp cautiously. There were so many more men than when he was with them before. They had caused a lot of damage over the past few years, too. Emma Lee’s community was not the only massacre they had conducted. He’d heard of a few more throughout his travels but none quite as devastating as the one committed against the peaceful group of people who were building their city in the caves. He knew Howling Wolf was a man of his word and would welcome him without any inclination of killing him. He also knew that if he started pleading with him to keep away from the land where his friends lived, his debt would mean nothing. Howling Wolf liked power and control. If he wanted to take over his friends’ home, he would and no one could stop him. Somehow, Max would have to turn him in a different direction, perhaps west towards the mountainous forests and the ocean.

  “Well, if I wasn’t seeing you for myself, I would not believe it,” said Howling Wolf as he made his way towards the Scott, his arms held out for a brotherly embrace. He was happy to see his old friend. If it wasn’t for him, the warrior may not be alive. “What brings you out in weather like this? Surely you’re not living on the road in the middle of winter?”

  “You know me, Mr. Wolf. I may have given up the bottle but I will never give up the women. It’s my biggest weakness and it always gets me into the sort of trouble one runs from,” said Max, chuckling under his breath. It wasn’t a complete lie. He did leave, hoping Nicky would discover her love for him in his absence.

  “I told you before that women were trouble,” laughed Howling Wolf, not questioning the lie. “I’m glad you’ve given up the bottle but you should have given up the women as well. Both can poison your blood. Come, come meet some of my men and warm yourself by the fire.”