Mouth of Hell (The Law Wranglers Book 2)

by Ron Schwab

  "Let me go with you," Wolf said. "I know exactly where the village is if they haven't packed up and moved. Regardless, we should be able to track that many people from the site without any trouble."

  "I appreciate the offer," Josh said, "but we intend to ride right into the village. If somebody recognizes you as the man who tried the rescue a few weeks back, it might not go so well for any of us."

  "I understand, but I would like to do something."

  "You tried. Sometimes that's all we can do. Besides, it seems to me the army's going to be wondering what became of you. Don't you think it's time to report back?"

  "Yes, I'd better, but I sure hate to go back with my tail between my legs."

  Cal observed, "You're damned lucky you're going back with your balls between your legs." Then he turned to Goodnight. "Are you the fella that rode with the Texas Rangers?"

  45

  Tabitha lay naked on a soft buffalo robe in the tipi she shared with her Comanche hostess and her son, the feisty boy who was also Tabitha's nephew. The night, after a blistering daytime heat, had not brought much relief from the stifling heat, and the little breeze that sifted through the air openings was too feeble to ward off the oven-like blast. Clothes stuck to one's skin like they were pasted in this situation, and along with her roommates, she had quickly learned to shuck both her clothes and her modesty.

  She surmised from their rhythmic breathing on the other side of the tipi that her roommates were sleeping soundly. Tabitha could not join their slumber because of the steady drumbeats and chanting coming from the far end of the camp. Jael had seemed in a hurry to rush her off to their robes tonight, with a rather brusque explanation that the men were gathering for a ceremonial evening. But she definitely heard women's voices among the chanters and singers.

  She was finding herself becoming quite comfortable in the Comanche encampment. On the other hand, she knew she was nothing if not adaptable. It had been a week now since she had been brought as a captive to the camp, and she felt she and Jael were laying the foundations for trust between them, and they had certainly formed an alliance that was moving toward friendship. It was Jael who had suggested that between the two of them her former name be used, especially since the Comanche pronunciation of her name was almost impossible for the white tongue to enunciate, and the English version was a bit cumbersome for conversation.

  Suddenly, a horrifying scream echoed through the darkness. And then another. And another. The chanting grew louder and louder, and the drumbeats came faster, but they did not drown out the incessant screaming. Tabitha sat up and snatched up her dress and moccasins and crept out the tipi opening. Outside, she pulled the doeskin dress over her head and slipped into her moccasins. Then, slowly and quietly, she wove her way through the maze of tipis led by the ear-shattering screams that rose above the other eerie voices and drumming that never seemed to quit. She stopped abruptly just outside the range of the orange glow of the fire. She edged behind some drying deerskins that were stretched out on poles near one of the tipis. From here she had a fairly clear view of the celebration.

  When her eyes fastened on the objects in the center of the mass of chanting Comanche, she turned away and wretched and vomited. Staked out naked on the ground not far from the spitting fire were two of the buffalo soldiers. One had a smoldering coal planted in each eye, and his stomach had been sliced from groin to sternum, and his guts had spilled from his abdomen. A gaping, bloody hole was all that remained of his penis and scrotum. He had obviously been scalped, because his kinky-haired scalp was split by a wide strip of raw, bleeding meat. He was no longer screaming, and she assumed he was either unconscious or dead. She hoped he was dead.

  The other soldier was not so fortunate. His screams had subsided, but his sobs had not. She saw a slightly-built warrior circling him and realized it was Sour Face, the warrior who had tried to rape her. She had since learned that his name was Hawk Talons. Tonight he paraded around the council fire like a circus ringmaster announcing acts, she thought. The black man who lay spread-eagled near the fire still had his eyes and sight, but they just allowed him to watch the red-hot fire coals that had been piled on his stomach, as they burned their way through his tender flesh. She watched in horror as Sour Face made a sudden turn and stepped between the victim's legs, bent over and began sawing on the man's scrotum with a stone knife. After mere moments, Sour Face raised his hand, clutching the dark, blood-slick sack that contained the man's balls. A squaw broke into the fire circle, fingers outreached, and Sour Face tossed her the trophy.

  Suddenly, a hand clasped over her mouth, and a strong arm wrapped about Tabitha's waste and yanked her backward. She was pulled behind a tipi, and a voice whispered in her ear. "Quiet. Not a word. I'm going to release you."

  She turned and faced Jael, whose lips were sealed tight and whose eyes shot spears of anger. Jael grabbed her arm roughly and began dragging her away from the fire and did not release her iron grip until they returned to their tipi. Then she pushed Tabitha toward her buffalo robe. "Don't say a word. You risk your life if you leave again. We will talk tomorrow."

  Tabitha disrobed and lay back down on her sleeping place, but she did not sleep that night. She could not release the nightmare from her mind, and her thoughts turned to Zeke. The massive buffalo soldier had not been staked out on the ground tonight. Was there hope for him yet? It was strange, she thought, she barely knew the other two soldiers and she was deeply aggrieved about the end they met. Still, it was always more profound when someone near and dear was involved. We hear of atrocities around the world, and they may sadden us, but we shrug them off. Too bad such things happen to people. The death of a stranger is a passing thought, a tragedy only to those who loved or cared for him. It becomes a truly sorrowful event only if it is our own family member or a dear friend who has suffered or died. She still tried to deny what she had witnessed. And the thought of Zeke enduring the same torment nearly drove her mad.

  The next morning Tabitha was not brave enough to broach the subject of the previous night's events with Jael. She went about her camp chores and, for the second day, worked with Flying Crow on his alphabet, showing him how all of the confusing letters could spell his name. He seemed annoyed that he had to put up with the lessons, yet he obviously could not resist the challenge. His initial hostility seemed to have faded away, and he had at least accepted that she was going to be sharing their tipi for the foreseeable future. He was a bright boy, and she found herself enjoying these moments when she could toss a surprise word out for his vocabulary.

  After the boy was dismissed to join his friends, Jael returned to the tipi. "Come with me," she said. "We are going to take a walk."

  Tabitha got up and followed.

  "You were very foolish when you left our tipi last night," Jael scolded, as they walked down the slope toward the creek. "I did not want you to see what was happening."

  "I gathered as much. I heard the screams, and my curiosity got the best of me. And I will never forget what I saw. It was barbaric and sickening. I cannot believe people can take such joy in the torture and maiming of other people." She shook her head. "Those poor men . . . to die such a terrible death."

  "This is what The People do to their enemies, and it is what their traditional enemies would do to them if circumstances were reversed."

  "But our soldiers do not torture. It is not a part of our culture."

  "They do terrible things. They attack undefended villages and rape and kill the women and girls. They bash in the heads of babies with the butts of their rifles or behead them with their long knives. No child is spared when they attack. Twice I have escaped such slaughter with Flying Crow, but I saw with my own eyes the work of your own savages. Do not lecture me on the moral differences of our people."

  Tabitha realized she was not going to win this war of words. Someday she would write of what she witnessed, and she would learn more of the Comanche viewpoint and report the atrocities committed by her own people. For now, she
had more immediate concerns. "What about Sergeant Hooper? They have not harmed him, have they?"

  They strolled along the creek bank while Jael seemed to be pondering the question. Jael stopped and removed her moccasins and sat down on the creek bank and dangled her feet in swift-flowing cool water. Tabitha joined her.

  "Sergeant Hooper, as you call him, is seen as a great warrior. He is a physical giant and has refused to exhibit fear. Among the Kwahadi it is an honor for him to face his death alone."

  "Then he will be tortured."

  "When the circle of the moon is filled, about a week from now. There will be a great celebration."

  "I want to save him. I had hoped the others would not be harmed. We spoke to Quanah, and he said he would try."

  "He did try. You must understand that Quanah is a war chief, but our band has other chiefs, as well, who have different views. One of these is Isa-tai, who is also a shaman, who wields great influence with the council."

  "I have seen him. He is a squat, little man with bulging eyes."

  "Yes, he looks like a toad doesn't he?" They both giggled.

  "He doesn't look like a man of influence."

  "I am struggling for the words, but there is a saying for that."

  "Looks can be deceiving?"

  "Yes, that's it. But my point is that there are a half dozen or more in the band who have rank and influence in these matters. Quanah and Isa-tai are both young men, and while Quanah is respected for his skills at war-making, the older chiefs often listen to Isa-tai because he tells them what they want to hear."

  "I guess whites and Comanche are not all that different in that respect."

  "We will meet with Quanah again, perhaps with the entire council, about the fate of the buffalo soldier, but I have something else to discuss."

  "Yes?"

  "Your brother, the lawyer, is traveling this way. Our scouts report he is accompanied by a tall, yellow-haired man who was seen with One Hand Mackenzie during the battles of a year ago. I may have seen this man when the red-haired woman was ransomed."

  "If you were involved in the ransom exchange, you may have seen him. When I last spoke with him, he was planning to marry the red-haired woman. The man would be my brother, Cal."

  "It is believed the riders are seeking our village, and they seem to be on a direct course. For some reason, they appear to know exactly where to find us. That is worrisome to Quanah. We will likely be moving very soon, but Quanah and the other members of the council will wait until they hear what your brother has to say. They are probably two days' ride from here. You and I must have an understanding. The lives of both of your brothers depend upon it."

  "Go on."

  "Your brother is expected to be coming to conduct business with Quanah. I doubt if he knows of your presence here, and certainly he has no reason to know Flying Crow is his son. You and Flying Crow must remain in the tipi while your brothers are in the village. We do not want them to know that either of you are here."

  "But I have told you I want to stay."

  "And if he is aware of your presence, you will have the opportunity to tell him that. You must not say a word about Flying Crow, however. You must understand that if your brother learns of Flying Crow's presence and that if he attempts to take him, he will die before he leaves the village with my son. I will kill him myself, if necessary, to stop him. Every warrior in the village will rise to support me. Many would like the excuse to kill two white men, especially to give them the death that was delivered to the buffalo soldiers last night. Remember, Flying Crow is Comanche, and white men are not allowed to abduct our children."

  46

  The crowd was growing. Cal had first spotted the Comanche scouts yesterday, commenting that he had felt them before he saw them. At first there were two, but now there were a half dozen Indians split on each side about fifty yards out. It was a positive sign, Josh thought. There had been no harassment or feints in their direction, so Cal had suggested the Comanche riders made up more of an escort than anything else.

  An hour and five more Comanche later, the village was in sight, and Josh caught sight of a delegation riding out in a cloud of dust to meet them. They reined in and waited. He had mixed feelings when he spotted She Who Speaks among the riders. He was surprised to find his heart raced a bit at the sight of her. She was indeed a woman who would catch the eye of most men, and he wished the circumstances were different.

  On the other hand, he felt anger at her deception. He was almost certain this woman held Michael captive. When the time was right, he would find out. He wondered if she would lie about Tabby's capture as well. The Comanche riders pulled up twenty paces in front of them, and then She Who Speaks kneed her black mare forward.

  "Josh, we were not expecting you. We had not sent a messenger."

  "Greetings, She Who Speaks--or is it Jael now?"

  "Jael is acceptable."

  "Your messenger is dead. Killed apparently by someone who is in no hurry to see peace between the Kwahadi and the white soldiers."

  "We will find another messenger. But you must have business. You would not have come this far to tell us that our courier had been killed."

  "I have progress to report on the negotiations. And I have other very important business," he added meaningfully.

  She did not flinch. "Then we will try to address all of your business. Now, follow us into the village. Quanah is waiting."

  Surprisingly, Quanah sat alone in his tipi. After Josh and Cal were seated, Jael explained to Quanah Cal's relationship to Josh, and Cal received a solemn nod. Jael and Quanah spoke at some length in Comanche, and it seemed to Josh they were either arguing or debating something.

  Finally, Jael turned to Josh and said, "Quanah says you have not chosen a good time to visit. Mackenzie is in the field, and we will be moving the camp early tomorrow morning. You will not be able to stay the night."

  They obviously did not want Josh and Cal to linger. It was only mid-morning. They had deliberately camped not far from the village, thinking they might not be welcome to make an extended stay after Josh raised some unpleasant subjects. "We will try to take care of our business quickly and hope you will cooperate. I think I have made serious progress toward a peace settlement. I have met with Dr. Sturm who is very influential in these matters. He is arranging for me to meet with emissaries of President Grant in early fall."

  Jael interpreted for Quanah who responded with questions. Jael said, "Quanah is impressed that the Great White Father is considering this matter but wishes to know what is attainable."

  "We never know what is attainable for certain, but I am going to focus on three or four things. First, there should be no imprisonment for Quanah or any of the other chiefs. Second, there will be no signed treaty. The chiefs would simply lead your people to the reservation. I think this makes the Comanche side of the peace a matter of honor. The whites do not have a good record of keeping treaties."

  Again Jael interpreted. Quanah smiled a bit, shaking his head in agreement, and replied in Comanche. Jael continued, "He appreciates your remark about the white man's keeping of treaties, and, of course, if prison is the fate of the chiefs they will fight to the death before being caged."

  "I will also ask for land under the ownership and control of the tribe and cattle so you can raise your own meat. I would insist on a provision for a monthly stipend, but I need to meet with the President's representatives before I can determine amounts. My question is this: if I can obtain these commitments, will the Comanche come to the reservation?"

  After a long dialogue with the chief, Jael said, "These are things that are very important to Quanah's thinking. He emphasizes he does not make the decision alone, but he is confident he can convince most of the chiefs of accepting terms near to these. He says you should work on the specific provisions, and he has other concerns about peace he wants to discuss. But when you bring a definite proposal from the Great White Father, it will be presented to the council, and he should be able to supp
ort it."

  They talked for another hour about details of any peace terms, and Josh felt he understood what would be acceptable and what would not. He decided this subject had been exhausted, and he abruptly shifted to his next concern. "My sister and three buffalo soldiers are being held captives in this village, and I want to take them back with me. This would be an enormous showing of good faith and would help greatly in successful peace negotiations."

  A long, awkward silence. Josh noticed that Jael, in contrast to her usual calm demeanor, was visibly shaken. Her eyes momentarily looked like those of a frightened doe, and she bit her lip nervously. She recovered after a few moments and began speaking to Quanah. He seemed to be protesting something, and the tone of her voice became insistent and near demanding. Quanah got up and left the tipi.

  "Quanah must speak to some of the chiefs," she said. "You wait here." She also got up and started for the tipi opening, but Josh stopped her.

  "I forgot to mention," he said. "I expect to take my son back with me."

  She did not respond and kept on moving.

  "Damn," Cal said, "you sure got a knack for stirring up trouble."

  47

  Jael had returned to Quanah's tipi and instructed Josh and Cal to follow her. She led them to another tipi, one that was noticeably smaller than that of the war chief. She entered, and they found Tabitha standing just inside the entryway. She moved to her brothers and hugged them each enthusiastically.

  "Josh and Cal. It's a family reunion. I'm glad you're okay."

  "Us? You're the one that's the prisoner."

  "Me? No, I'm not. Well, I was, but not anymore."

  "Then you'll be going with us."

  Jael backed out of the tipi, and Josh felt more comfortable with her departure. The family had things to discuss.

  "I won't be leaving with you, Josh," Tabitha announced.