Eagle People (28 page)
A big burly man walked to the shelter, grabbed a young man, no older than twenty, and pulled him to the fire. Cane asked, “How's this one, boss?”
“He'll do the job.”
It was then, as the young man turned that both Dog Soldiers saw the captive's hands were tied behind him. Albert gazed into Rufus' eyes, but they were sent to watch, not fight.
“Kneel, boy.” Cane said.
When the boy knelt, he broke into tears and as he was crying, Cane lifted a sword made of hardwood in his right hand.
“Oh, God, no!” The young man screamed and then added, “Momma, Momma hel—”
As soon as it was fully extended, he swung the blade with all his strength; the young man's head rolled from his body, and blood shot into the air. The body remained in place for almost a minute before it fell forward. The unseeing eyes of the dead man were looking right at Albert.
“Damn, he's still bleedin' out.” the man nearest the fire said.
“Hell, we cain't eat 'em if we don't bleed 'em good. Cane, as soon as he stops all that jerking and shit, cut 'em up. We'll have his left thigh for supper and the other thigh for breakfast. By the day after tomorrow we'll need more grub.”
Cane asked, “Who in the hell made me the full time cook around here? I get tired of doin' all the crap none of you guys want to do.”
“Out of all of us, you're the best cook and you know it, too.” Fat man said.
“Well, I guess I'm a good cook, but once in a while the least you can do is kill the bastards for me.”
“Butcher the meat, Cane, and do it now. Listen, there's a group of folks moving with wagons and there's a bunch of 'em just a few miles from here. I saw 'em today when I was out scoutin'. I think, if we hang on the outside edges of the group, like wolves, we can find a meal or two.”
Albert watched Cane expertly butcher the young man and within minutes, the body was dismembered. Taking a long sharpened stick, he skewered the thigh and then placed it over the fire to cook. The rest of the meat was placed in cotton bags and hung in trees, out of reach of small animals.
“Man eaters.” Albert signed.
“Yes.”
“Well, we're down to one person left for meals.” Can said.
“Just one?” the boss asked.
“It's that woman you been pokin'. I don't know if I want to eat no meat you've been playin' with. Don't you know it ain't proper to play with your food?” one of the men said, and then laughed.
The Boss said, “Mark, shut the hell up, or I'll have your ass cooked next. But, I don't want to do that, because you'd take a lot of cleaning, and your skinny ass would be tough, too.” The laughter stopped instantly. “We'll do like I said and get a few stragglers from those folks with the wagons. It'd be good if we could get our hands on some young meat. Ain't much that makes a better meal than a kid about ten or so.”
The meat was stuck on two “Y” shaped limbs stuck in the ground and the wood acted like a spit. As the meat cooked, Albert had the urge to puke.
“Franklin, you turn that meat every few minutes so it cooks evenly. Do any of you guys want the head?” Cane asked.
“Nope, because it takes too long to boil the damned things. Chuck it in the woods with the others.” Fat man said.
Picking the head up by the hair, Cane threw it into the brush and then asked, “How about the heart and liver?”
All wanted some, so as Cane cut large pieces of the meat and handed it to the men, Albert asked in sign, “Can you kill two of them with your bow?”
“Yes, and you?”
Albert nodded and signed, “Make your arrows ready. When they are cooking the meat, I will kill the biggest one, then you release your arrows. I will kill the two on the left, if you can kill the two on the right.”
“Cane, get the damned whiskey and do 'er now!” Fat man ordered.
“Cane this and Cane that, by God you sumbitches couldn't wipe your own asses without me around. I'm tired of this shit!”
“Either get the damned whiskey or pull your knife! I'm tired of your bitchin'. Hell, you're worse than a full time wife, do you realize that? I asked you to cook a meal and fetch us a bottle and you start pissin' and moanin'. Come on, pull the knife or shut your damned mouth.”
“I'll get it, but lay off me, Spence.”
“When they are drinking.” Albert signed.
They waited until Cane walked to the shelter and returned with a bottle. He tossed it to Spence and then said, “Franklin, turn the damn meat, it's burning.”
As Franklin leaned forward to turn the meat, Spence was taking a long drink of whiskey. Albert pulled back his bowstring, sighted in on the big man's chest, and released an arrow. He then made another arrow ready.
Spence didn't say a word as the arrow struck him and since the distance was short, the arrow went completely through the man. He lowered the bottle, looked down at a small finger of blood leaking from his filthy shirt, and blinked rapidly a few times.
The arrow Rufus released struck Franklin in the left cheek, exited his right, and continued through his body to strike another man seated beside him in the shoulder.
Cane, likely the dumbest of the group yelled, “Ambush!”
Albert released his second arrow and saw it take Cane, who was moving for his weapons, in the groin area. The skinny man fell to the ground screaming. Rufus' second arrow missed his target, but took Spence low and in the belly. The fat man's screams joined Cane's.
Both men picked up another arrow and released a second later as the last man picked up a spear. Albert's arrow struck the man in the right thigh, the shaft and point going in deep. Rufus' arrow struck the man in the center of his chest, but not before he tossed his spear toward the two Dog Soldiers.
Albert felt something strike him, only he felt no pain. Looking down, he saw the shaft of a spear protruding from his chest.
I've been hit and hard too,
he thought as he reached up and felt the smooth wooden shaft. He suddenly felt weak and dropped to his knees. He wasn't aware of blood running from his nose, mouth and ears, but he did feel it flowing down his chest.
“Albert, you've been hurt, and bad. I'm going to lower you to your side, and then take care of our enemies. I must kill them before I can doctor you. Do you understand?” Rufus said as he thought,
Good God, and he's one of our best warriors, too.
Killed by damn man eaters!
“Don't you die on me, Albert.” He lowered Albert to his left side.
Giving a loud war cry, the last sound some of the man eaters heard, Rufus ran into the center of the camp. Seeing all of his enemies were seriously injured, he took his time. Knowing Spence was the boss, he walked to the man, squatted at his side and then suddenly stuck his sword under the man's rib cage—deep. He pushed the sword up into the man until the point exited near his neck, all the while ignoring his pleas and cries for mercy. Spence gave a heinous scream that quavered as the sword was removed.
Moving next to Franklin, who was only slightly injured and attempting to stop the flow of his blood, which caused him to choke. Raising the blade of his sword, since the man was on his knees, Rufus brought it down fast and hard, striking the man's head. The stainless steel 440C blade, razor sharp, struck him in his forehead and almost cut his head in two. His choking instantly stopped as Rufus kicked the man violently to his back.
Walking to Cane, he passed by the man and left him whining. He moved to the man who'd injured Albert.
“Don't . . . kill . . . me . . . please. I'm already . . . dyin'.” the man pleaded as he raised his right hand in defense.
“You may have killed a good man, you sonofabitch! You're not equal to a drop of his sweat.” Grabbing the man's arms, he pulled them together and the tied them tightly with some rope he had on his belt.
He returned and tied Canes hands together as well. He then moved to Albert.
Albert was still alive, but his breathing was rough and irregular. Rufus leaned forward and placed his ear against his friends chest. His heart was pounding but it was atypical as well.
He'll not survive this injury,
he thought,
Damn me.
“Albert,” Rufus said, “I have to pull the spear the rest of the way out, okay?”
“Y . . . yes.”
Grasping the shaft near the spearhead, he pull the remainder of the spear from his body. Albert quivered and then started shaking violently. Then, after almost a minute the shaking stopped.
“I'm moving you to their fire, so I can treat your injury, okay?”
“No . . . no, God, don . . . don't move me. I . . . hurt.”
“Okay, then. I'll treat you in place.” He pulled his medical supplies from a small bag he carried and bandaged the entrance and exit holes. Rufus knew his efforts were wasted, because the spear had done too much damage to his friend.
“I wish . . . I . . . had . . . whiskey.”
Remembering the whiskey Spence had, Rufus ran to the dead man and picked up the bottle. Returning, he lifted Albert's head and said, “Take some snorts of this and the pain will lessen.”
After drinking about a half pint, Albert gave a weak smile, and Rufus saw bloody pink bubbles on his friends lips.
He'll die, because the blood is bright crimson. His lungs and major organs are damaged.
Albert began speaking to someone only he knew. Then, his body gave a great shudder, a rattling was heard deep in his chest, and he gave a loud sigh. Albert the Dog Soldier was dead. While Rufus was used to death, he and Albert had spent a lot of time in the woods and fields together, so tears ran down his cheeks.
Later, he lowered Albert's head to the dirt, stood and made his way toward the last captive in the shelter. The last prisoner was a beautiful woman at one time, only now she'd been used by Spence and beaten by the other men. Her face was swollen and her clothing torn.
Rufus asked, “Are you okay?”
“No, I hurt and . . . and . . . I need help.”
“Can you walk?”
“Yes, with your help.”
“Let's move you to the fire and then I'll fetch a bottle of whiskey I have. It'll help kill some of your minor pain.” Rufus said as he helped her to stand. “Lean on me to the fire.”
Slowly they walked to the flames and once there, he lowered her to the ground and said, “Stay here and I'll be right back. I need to get the drink for you.”
She nodded and he left her with her head bowed.
He'd just picked up the bottle and was shaking his head at the senselessness of Albert's death, when he heard a male scream. Running to camp he arrived to see the captive repeatedly stabbing the man who'd killed Albert. Walking to the flames, he squatted on his heels, pulled the cork from the drink and then took a long swig. Then, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand he said, “He's dead, if you'd like some whiskey.” He handed the bottle toward her.
She turned, met his eyes and said, “This one was the first to rape me. He's a damned animal and deserved to die!”
“Well, you did the job, because he's as dead as they get. What about Cane there?”
“He's a simpleton and his mind isn't right.”
Pulling his knife, Rufus moved to Spence and then one-by-one, he cut their throats. When he got to Cane he heard the man crying.
“Where ya hit?” Rufus asked.
“My balls and pecker are bleedin'.”
“Let me check.” He placed his knife blade in the dancing flames of the fire.
Rufus untied the man's loose fitting trousers and lowered them. He looked the man over and said, “Your pecker is fine, but your balls are in sad shape, son. But, don't worry about it. See, you'll not bleed to death. I'll fix you up and then take you to my Chief, where she'll talk with you.”
And, pass judgment on your sorry ass,
he thought instantly after speaking.
“W . . . what are you goin' to do with that knife?”
“Me? I'm gonna cauterize your balls and keep you from bleeding to death.”
“What's that mean? That calkerize?”
“Cauterize, burn. I have to seal the injury or you
will
bleed do death.”
Cane nodded for a moment as the words were given thought. Suddenly he attempted to stand, but was unable to get his legs to move. “Don't burn me, please.”
“I have to burn you or you'll bleed to death. Look, your mating days are over, your balls are both severely injured.” He glanced at his knife blade in the fire and saw it was red hot. Then, he reach forward and pulled a knife from Cane's sheath on his belt. Before a word could be spoken, he grabbed the man's balls, pulled them up and severed them with the knife blade. He tossed them in the brush, ignoring Canes screams, as he pulled his red blade from the flames and pushed it against the man's mangled scrotum. There was a brief flash of flame when the hot knife met skin, Cane passed out, and Rufus smeared the flesh together. Within seconds the job was done.
The woman had blood all over her from killing the other man and she sat looking off in the distance, but seeing nothing. Rufus asked, “What will you do now?”
“I have no family. The man they just killed was my brother. They caught six of us and ate us one-at-a-time over the last ten days. Spence kept me alive as a toy.”
“Do you want to come with me? We have a shaman, people, food and water. They'll help you, if you want to live with us.”
“I don't, I don't know.”
“I'll tell you what. Come with me, get cleaned up and healthy, and then you can decide, how's that?”
She nodded.
“You'll have to ride with Cane if you go with me.”
“Kill the bastard.”
“We will, I'm sure of it, but my chief must decide how he is to die.”
“They have more than one horse, or do you not know this?”
“No, all I see is one.”
Strange,
he thought,
how'd we miss their horses?
“Behind the shelter you'll see a slight hill; they are kept there, at the bottom. At night they always had two guards. One in camp and one by the horses. When Spence rode in earlier, he made a beeline for camp.”
“I'll be right back.” he said as he stood and made his way toward the horses.
