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Authors: Mardi Oakley Medawar

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BOOK: Murder at Medicine Lodge
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Riding to where the wagons were, I saw with a heavy heart that they were empty. Taking a deep breath, I wondered if it would be possible to steal another shovel. Crying Wind had actually loved the thing. If I hadn't been so truthful about how I'd come to have it, she would still be loving it. An idea dawned. If I could manage to get another one, hopefully she wouldn't make too much of a fuss about having to hide it until we were safely away—but only as long as I was able to swear on my life that I hadn't stolen it from yet another dead man.

Feeling infinitely better, I set off to visit Hawwy. My intent was to nose around for another shovel and thank him for the sunglasses. I must say that I was thoroughly enjoying them on that sunny afternoon, gazing out at a peaceful blue world as my horse trotted along. The world as seen through those glasses was much too beautiful a place to worry about the council meeting Crying Wind had mentioned. It was certainly too peaceful to spare a thought for the evidence Hawwy would present to the generals. Life in that strange blue world was good.

This illusion was blown beyond eternity when a thundering party of warriors came riding up fast behind me. Lone Wolf, riding well out in front, passed me by without a second glance. He was wearing sunglasses too. They sat perched on his beak of a nose. But judging by his severe expression, he wasn't enjoying them all that much.

Just behind him came White Bear and Skywalker, and behind them, Hears The Wolf, The Cheyenne Robber, and Raven's Wing. Quickly caught up in their number, my buckskin, not appreciating being passed, worked to keep pace. There was nothing I could do to slow that determined horse, and believe me, I tried.

This highborn group did not seem to mind that I was suddenly among their number. White Bear, in an obvious good mood, played a game with me, raising and lowering his pair of sunglasses and laughing loudly.

“You know, you look much better when it's harder to see you!”

I gave up trying to fall back. My horse wouldn't let me and now there was no where to go because Big Tree and Dangerous Eagle were riding too close behind my horse. If I slowed down, there would be an unseemly accident. Still, I did not want to be with this group. For the one thing, I was on a thieving mission and such missions are destined for failure when done as a crowd. For another, I knew Lone Wolf was setting himself on a confrontational course against the army generals. I've never truly cared for confrontation. Oh, on the odd occasion I've forced myself to do it, but in the midst of such showdowns my bowels go watery and my voice has a tendency to crack. Despite the lovely look to the world behind those blue pieces of glass, I knew I was riding straight into a hornets' nest.

*   *   *

Lone Wolf demanded an immediate apology for the army having accused White Bear of stealing from and possibly having done in Buug-lah. It was a reasonable request, but as it was delivered with righteous anger, Lone Wolf merely managed to put the generals' combined back up. The upshot was, they didn't feel obliged to apologize for anything. I thought I knew Lone Wolf when he was angry. I thought wrong. On that day he showed what he was like when he was truly angry.

Feeling the full force of Lone Wolf's wrath, those generals finally had the sense to realize just how dangerous Lone Wolf was. Now, this really put them in a fix, because with the wagons emptied out, they had nothing more to offer in the way of peacemaking bribes. Not that this ploy would have worked. Lone Wolf would not be satisfied with trinkets when what he'd come for was the complete vindication of a Kiowa subchief.

After much conferring, the generals invited all of us to dismount and wait. We did. An hour passed, Lone Wolf growing increasingly impatient. Then, just when he was about to lose his patience altogether, the generals announced that they had the guilty party. When that big black man was brought forward in chains, I'll never know which of us was the more stunned, me or The Cheyenne Robber. To pacify Lone Wolf, the generals were fully prepared to hang Little Jonas right there and then. What stopped them was someone commencing to yell. At first I thought it was me because my rage was boiling over. Even though I was wearing those blue glasses, the only color I could see was red.

But I realized that I was not the one doing the hard yelling. The sound of that voice was well to the front of the assembly whereas I was somewhere in the middle. The shouting was coming from The Cheyenne Robber and, as my vision cleared even more, I saw him fly down off his horse and proceed to wave his arms as he prowled back and forth before the generals.

Little Jonas was the only Blue Jacket I have ever known The Cheyenne Robber to like. While we'd been out on the prairie, they had successfully put aside their glaring differences and realized that they respected each other as men. Now here the generals were expecting The Cheyenne Robber to do nothing while Little Jonas was strung up. Well, his strong sense of a warrior's honor would never allow a worthy man to suffer such an appalling death.

“You are crazy men!” Pointing back to where Little Jonas stood in his chains, he cried, “You have no right to kill him.” The Cheyenne Robber raised a fist high over his head, fully intending to strike down the soldier standing close beside Little Jonas.

As that soldier shrank into a cower, Skywalker lunged for his brother, pulling The Cheyenne Robber back, holding on to both of his arms. Without waiting to be asked, Billy joined the fray. With two of them against him now, The Cheyenne Robber commenced to fling himself about like an enraged bull. Skywalker shouted for Hears The Wolf and that one came on the run, only to be knocked down just seconds after entering the skirmish. He jumped back up, hurled himself right back into it, trying to get ahold of the battling The Cheyenne Robber; the latter now yelling even more loudly, mostly about killing all of the worthless, lying bags of coyote offal wearing blue jackets.

Lone Wolf turned away, undone by the spectacle his very own men were creating. I was looking at Lone Wolf, feeling infinitely sorry for the man, when I heard my name being shouted. To my downright mortification, Skywalker was yelling for me. Now, I never told him this, but I tried hard to pretend that I didn't hear him. After he called two more times, Dangerous Eagle shoved me.

“Don't you hear him?” he cried.

“Hear who?”

“Skywalker! He wants you to go help him.”

I did not want to do that. I did not want to be involved any further in what I was rapidly coming to consider to be Blue Jacket business.

I am a man whose life was graced with many unwanted things.

NINE

Little Jonas watched all of this high drama with baleful eyes. Clearly he no longer trusted anyone, not even The Cheyenne Robber. He could hardly be blamed. When a man is accused of murder, chained up and threatened with imminent death by hanging, trust is in short supply. Then, too, because of the language difficulty, he had no idea that The Cheyenne Robber's fighting and shouting was his noisy way of coming to Little Jonas's rescue. As he could not understand one word The Cheyenne Robber yelled, and Billy was too busy helping Skywalker in the scuffle to translate, for all Little Jonas knew, his Kiowa friend was demanding his quick death. But before Billy could tell him the truth, comfort him with the knowledge that The Cheyenne Robber was still his friend, we first needed to settle The Cheyenne Robber down. This was not easily done.

I was pretty useless, not knowing where to grab, so I danced about on the fringe as the other three contained The Cheyenne Robber, Skywalker huffing and talking rapidly. As The Cheyenne Robber was becoming more manageable, I heard what Skywalker was saying.

“See? Tay-bodal is here. He can do it. You know he can. He's done it before and for you.”

The Cheyenne Robber quit fighting. Cautiously, they began to let him go, and as they gradually released him, The Cheyenne Robber pinned me with his eyes. His eyes were locked with mine as Skywalker patted his brother on the back and said, “Everything is going to be all right for Little Jonas.”

We formed a circle and with almost ritual-like reverence, we quietly removed our sunglasses, meticulously placing them inside our carry pouches. It was only good manners that we not be seen using one of their gifts while conspiring against the Blue Jackets. The glasses safely tucked away, Skywalker spoke rapidly to Billy. The entire time this conversation was taking place, my head was twisting on my neck as I searched for a glimpse of Hawwy in the ranks of the officers.

He wasn't there.

Pointing back to Little Jonas, Skywalker said to Billy, “You tell him I know his heart. I know he did not kill that man.”

Billy did something I will always think of as uncommonly brave. He talked back to Skywalker. “Yes, and that is what the generals think too. But I know the reason he is accused.”

Skywalker's eyes widened, surprised both by Billy's temerity and by what he had to say.

Still in a rage, The Cheyenne Robber stepped in and jutted his face close to Billy's. “Are you going to tell us, or will I have to beat you up?”

Billy chose to speak. “The jacket that was found belongs to Little Jonas. The generals were still discussing this when Lone Wolf came in. Because of Lone Wolf, they decided to go ahead and blame Little Jonas even though they are still convinced that their man was killed by Indians—mainly, White Bear. The thing that will happen now is that they hang one of their own soldiers, but this is what they will say to anyone who listens. That they did what they had to do to hold the peace at Medicine Lodge. That the Kiowa chief Lone Wolf cannot control his subchiefs. That White Bear does whatever he wants. That he is a liar and a murderer.”

All the steam went right out of Skywalker.

Unable to control my tongue a second longer, I shouted, “Where is Hawwy? Why isn't he here? How could he allow anyone to be accused without first talking with us? This is not the way he promised it would be.” Folding my arms across my chest, I concluded, “If anyone is weak, it is not Lone Wolf, it is Haw-we-sun.”

Now, Billy could take a lot of things, but criticism of Hawwy not being one of those things, he came after me with the speed of a striking snake.

“Hawwy did exactly what he was supposed to do. He turned over that uniform just as he said he would. It is not his fault that others have taken charge. You keep forgetting Hawwy is only a little chief. This is the army, not the Kiowa Nation. In the army, a little chief can do nothing once the leader chiefs have taken control. The one making the decisions now is General Gettis. It's on account of him that Little Jonas was arrested.”

“Why does Little Jonas look beaten?” The Cheyenne Robber demanded.

“The soldiers had a hard time getting the chains on him. He was beaten to make him hold still.”

“Did Hawwy try to stop them?” Skywalker asked softly.

I looked at him askance as Billy answered the question.

“No. The soldiers were acting on orders from General Gettis. There was nothing Hawwy could do.” Billy turned, glared directly at me. “He took to his tent. Which is where he is now. He isn't hiding. He's stayed away because he is sick at heart that Little Jonas will give up his life for nothing, because he heard General Gettis say he will always believe White Bear killed their soldier simply to have that shiny horn. He believes the uniform that was found proves nothing.”

Actually, I was beginning to feel a trifle ill myself. It would seem that I was no better than the general, who was in such a hurry to close a nettlesome situation, that any victim for the hangman's rope would do. In almost the same type of rush, I had been ready to believe something bad of Hawwy, a man I knew to be kind and gentle. No longer able to look Billy in the eye, I turned my ashamed face away. It was then I noticed the growing impatience among the Blue Jacket generals and Lone Wolf's delegation of chiefs. Clearly, if there was going to be a hanging, they all would prefer we simply get on with it.

“This cannot be allowed to happen,” Skywalker said firmly. “The death of an innocent will not restore honor to anyone, most especially White Bear.”

He began to confer with Hears The Wolf and The Cheyenne Robber; all of them went into a huddle, turning their backs on me and Billy. Pushed to the outside of this conference, my attention drifted and I came to notice a crowd of young men, all of them wearing brown suits and funny round hats. In the forefront stood a pleasant-looking young man of modest height, dark complexion, curly hair, and generous moustache. All of these young men were writing furiously on small pay-paas, but this one wrote that much faster.

Suddenly realizing that everyone was walking off without me, I jumped to keep up with the small delegation making its way toward Lone Wolf. Skywalker did all the talking, carefully explaining what he knew—that the hanging of the Buffalo Soldier did not free White Bear of supposed guilt and that Lone Wolf would be no better off than he was as the generals would still talk about him being too weak to control his murderous subchiefs. Lone Wolf's already hard expression turning harder.

Now that Skywalker sufficiently had his attention, he walked Lone Wolf slightly out of hearing range. I intently watched them but, as much of our language is spoken in the back of the throat, reading lips is impossible. Skywalker normally talked with his hands too, but this time he waved his hands meaninglessly. Lone Wolf listened, but his set expression gave nothing away. When Skywalker stopped speaking, Lone Wolf considered at length. When he was finished thinking, Billy was summoned. The instant he joined them, Lone Wolf went striding toward the generals. Billy was so caught up in the urgency of the moment that he failed to consider that the most powerful man in the Kiowa Nation, a nation he secretly longed to be part of, was trusting him to faithfully repeat his every word. Actually, it was a good thing Billy didn't pause to reflect, for if he had, that sensitive young man would have become so humbled he would not have been able to utter a word.

BOOK: Murder at Medicine Lodge
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