Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (29 page)
The men began smearing their faces with dark paint that ran down across their bare chests in black streaks from the rain.
As they began to arm themselves with their rifles, Toquame Keewassee raised his hand and said, "It is time we show our enemies a demonstration of our new power."
Comee barked for the men to break out the large military weapons from the carriage.
When they activated the battery packs with the throw of a switch, the rifles whirred and crackled with electricity.
"What do we need
those
for?" Haienwa'tha said.
"These are the weapons of the revolution, Haienwa'tha.
Our men need all the practice they can get with them."
"But these are just women and children!"
"Children who will someday grow up and learn to shoot rifles."
Haienwa'tha watched the men assemble on their destriers and head for the ruins.
He looked around in horror at the eager looks on their cruelly painted faces.
Keewassee called out his name and waved for him to hurry up, "You're riding with me up front."
His legs felt numb and stiff as he walked, as if they were attached to strings and someone else was moving them step by step.
He watched himself climb onto his destrier as if he were far away, observing everything that happened from outside of himself.
He looked around at the men and thought,
Where is Lakhpia-Sha?
Toquame Keewassee let out a fierce scream and raced forward, pumping his fist in the air.
All of the men cried out in high-pitched voices and charged after him, filling the air with wet, swirling dust that stung Haienwa'tha's eyes and stuck to his skin.
Haienwa'tha shielded his eyes and looked up at the storm clouds as black as smoke and headed after them.
Sheets of mud began to spill off the sides of the hills ahead and water flooded the plains beneath them, sucking their destrier's hooves down with every step.
Toquame Keewassee's men plodded through it, making their way toward the tall stone hills.
"Get your weapons ready," Keewassee said.
He lifted his own rifle and checked the digital screen.
Wasichu writing flashed across it, but it didn't matter.
The colors were green.
Green meant ready.
Haienwa'tha had to shout over the thunder to be heard.
"I am going to ride ahead and call Thathanka-Ska out!"
"No.
You will stay with us."
"You said you would give him a chance!"
Toquame Keewassee spun, glaring at the boy, "You test me a little too much, I think.
Your brother is a traitor and will meet his fate.
Or do you rebel against me as well?"
"But you said!"
"And I will.
One chance.
It will be his decision what happens after that.
But it will not be through your intervention or pleading or begging on his behalf.
Am I clear?"
"Yes."
"Get in the back of the formation.
You don't deserve to be up front with me."
Haienwa'tha stopped to let Keewassee and the rest of the older, more senior men, pass.
There was no more lightning now and the rain was beginning to slow, leaving everything he saw a pallid, sickly grey.
"You hear that?" Father Charles said.
He looked up at the sky and shook his head, "Weather didn't smell like a storm was coming.
Where the hell did that come from?"
Jem saw the dark clouds ahead and said, "Lightning's no good out here without cover.
Start looking for a cave."
The preacher pulled the Beothuk woman's destrier closer to his wagon, "We gotta wake her up.
If lighting spooks her animal, she'll get thrown off and trampled."
"She's been awake for over an hour," Jem said.
"Couldn't you hear how she was breathing?"
"She weren't breathing no different than she was before!"
Jem shrugged and said, "Suit yourself.
Don't go sticking your fingers near her face though, she'll bite off the ones you got left."
Father Charles reached down and shook her destrier's shoulders, "Hey, you awake?
I'm not kidding.
If you're awake, you need to say so because we got lightning rolling in and it could get bad real quick for you."
The preacher continued to plead and cajole for her to get up until Jem looked back at him and said, "I thought you knew about these people."
"I know more than you'll ever know, young man."
Jem sighed and stopped his destrier and kicked both legs over to drop down.
He went came around the side of the animal where her legs were dangling and said, "You gonna wake up nicely or not?"
She kept laying there, not moving.
Jem shrugged and swatted her across the backside.
It was like pissing into an electric fence.
She went batshit crazy with screaming and thrashing, trying to kick Jem and reach him enough to claw his face off with her bound hands.
Jem put his hands up and laughed, "I tried to be nice about it."
Father Charles had to struggle to keep her destrier from bucking as he shouted, "Nobody's going to lay another finger on you, I swear it.
Calm down before you get thrown!"
She hissed and grunted at Jem, cursing him in a garbled mix of native, English, and outrage.
He came around her front side and said, "Listen, I'm gonna untie you.
You can run off if you want, but I ain't giving you your weapons back.
It's getting dangerous out here, so you're welcome to come with us."
She spat at him and said, "Go to hell, wasichu!"
"Not a doubt in my mind," he said.
He grabbed her arms and held them fast, "Stop struggling so I can cut the rope.
Keep moving around like that and pretty soon people will think you and the old man here are part of some weird cult together."
Father Charles stared at him, "Aren't you tired of that yet?"
Jem cocked his head to the side in thought for a moment and said, "Nope."
He cut the rope between the woman's boots and moved away as she instantly swung her feet back onto her destrier and bolted forward, getting out of their reach.
A blue trident of lightning sparkled above her on the path and she stopped.
She spun her destrier around, eyes glaring, "I want my things back!"
"I'd normally ride ahead of you and leave them, but we ain't going anywhere with those lightning forks on the horizon."
"Then give them to me and I'll go," she said.
"Yeah, okay," Jem chuckled.
"Fat chance."
"If you think I'm going into a cave with you and him unprotected, you are a fool."
"There's nothing we could do to you in there that we couldn't have done when you were passed out," Jem said.
The woman sneered at Jem and snapped her reins to ride off when Father Charles held up the picture of his daughter and said, "Wait!
Wait just a second.
Look at this.
Please.
This is my little girl.
I wanted to show you what she looks like when you came to.
That's why I was keeping you so close to me.
I was hoping you could tell me if you seen her?"
The woman looked at the preacher and then at the photograph for a moment before she held up her hand but did not move.
Father Charles got down from his wagon and walked toward her.
Jem put his hand up to block the old man, but he pushed it out of the way and said, "It's all right."
He walked up to her holding the photograph out and said, "Just please don't do anything to it.
It's the only one I have of her."
She took the picture from him and looked at it closely before saying, "I have not seen this girl.
But now that I have seen this, I will not forget her."
"Ok," the preacher said.
He had to look down at his boots and swallow hard.
Expectation and hope died in his throat, leaving a hard walnut of shame.
He didn't lift his head as he reached out to take the picture back.
"What is her name?" she said.
"Wendy.
Wendy Buchinsky."
"I am Ichante," she said.
"What tribe are you from?"
"I have no tribe," Ichante said.
"I am like her.
A half-breed."
The preacher winced, "I never let anybody call Wendy that.
Sounds like some sort of damn farm animal."
She looked at him evenly, then said, "Did you know the man you seek is not far from this place?"
Father Charles' eyes shot up to her, "What did you say?"
"Toquame Keewassee is camped nearby.
He searches for the remaining women of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu to stamp them out."
"Yes," Father Charles whispered.
"Yes!
That is why we came here!
He's nearby?
He's nearby, Jem!
Come on!"
The old man snatched the picture out of her hand and ran back to his wagon.
He grabbed onto the rungs and swung himself up into the carriage like a monkey, then snapped the reins so hard his destrier protested.
Within seconds, they were worked into a full gallop and flying past the native woman.
Jem watched him take off and shouted, "What the hell's wrong with you, lady?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why'd you have to go and tell him like that?
He's heading right into the storm now."
"Should I have lied to him?"
"No," Jem said.
He grabbed her gunbelt and tossed it at her, "Maybe just a little more discreet."
