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Authors: David Thompson

BOOK: Seed of Evil
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Chapter Nineteen

The three women had run all night and were on the verge of exhaustion.

Raven On The Ground gasped for breath. She came to the bottom of yet another slope and into the shadow of the hill they had crossed, and stopped. “This should be far enough. We will rest.”

No one objected. They had put a lot of distance between them and the trading post.

To the east, the black sky was lightening to gray. Dawn was breaking. The birds were astir, and in a nearby copse of woodland, sparrows chirped.

Lavender wearily sat. “I haven’t run this much since I was a girl.”

“I have lost feeling in my legs,” Flute Girl said.

“It was worth our effort,” Raven On The Ground said. “They won’t catch us now.”

“Unless they have a tracker,” Flute Girl said.

“I can’t stop thinking about Spotted Fawn,” Lavender said. “Do you think she is all right?”

“They wouldn’t be foolish enough to harm her,” Raven On The Ground replied.

Flute Girl disagreed. “They are white. They do not think like we do. What is foolish to us might not be foolish to them.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Poor Spotted Fawn,” Lavender said.

“Let’s not talk about her,” Raven On The Ground
said. She eased to the ground and wearily scanned the crown of the last hill they had crossed.

Flute Girl was bent over with her hands on her knees. “If your lover was here, I would tell him what I think of his precious whites.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Why not? You have made no secret of your desire to have him be yours.”

“You blame Chases Rabbits for our plight when it is the fault of the whites?”

“Who convinced us that working for the whites was a good thing to do?”

“You forget. The whites held council with Long Hair. They fooled him, too. They pretended to be our friends when they were not.”

Lavender raised her head. “Enough, both of you. There is no question who is to blame. The whites schemed to use us to fill their pokes with money. That is what brought us to this.”

That ended the argument. Raven On The Ground eased onto her back. Streaks of gold lit the eastern sky. The sun was rising. She closed her eyes. Fatigue overwhelmed her. Almost instantly she fell asleep.

Although it felt as though she had slept for only a few minutes, when she opened her eyes the sun was directly above them. She had slept half the day away.

Feeling sluggish and sore, Raven On The Ground sat up. Her friends were sound asleep, Flute Girl snoring. She stood, wincing at the discomfort in her legs.

To the west, mountains reared. Timber covered most of the slopes. Here and there were high cliffs with specks moving on the sheer heights. Mountain
sheep, their meat so succulent—it was one of her favorites.

Raven On The Ground stretched. Her body demanded more rest, but they had slept long enough. She went to Lavender and shook her. Lavender mumbled and moved an arm as if to push her away.

“Wake up. We must keep going.” Raven On The Ground shook her harder.

Lavender stirred and blinked, squinting in the bright glare of the sun. “I was having the most pleasant dream.”

“I am sorry.”

“We were in our village. It was night and we were celebrating. Our warriors had killed many buffalo. We had butchered them and there was meat for everyone. We were dancing and singing.”

“We will dance and sing again.”

Raven On The Ground moved to Flute Girl. She placed her hand on the bigger woman’s shoulder and Flute Girl came awake with a start. She sat up and glanced about in alarm.

“What is wrong?”

“We are fine. We must move on.”

For a while they hiked slowly, their leg muscles stiff. The farther they went, the less it hurt. They were walking briskly when Lavender looked over her shoulder and blurted, “No!”

In the distance three riders came on at a trot. There was a fourth, but he was leading extra horses and lagged behind.

Raven On The Ground shielded her eyes with her hand. “It is them. Dryfus is tracking us. They are on our trail, but haven’t seen us yet.”

“We must hide,” Flute Girl said, and took the lead.

Ahead grew cottonwoods, usually a sign of water. They burst in among the trees and found a small spring.

“I am so thirsty.” Flute Girl threw herself down. She put her face in the water and greedily gulped.

“Not too much,” Raven On The Ground cautioned. “It will make our bellies hurt.” But it was hard to resist. They had been without anything to drink since before the fire. She tore herself away and nudged her companions to get them to do the same.

“I could drink it dry,” Flute Girl said, her chin dripping wet.

“Listen,” Lavender said.

The thud of hoofbeats warned them that they had squandered precious time.

“Keep up with me,” Raven On The Ground said, and ran. Her people were fond of racing, both on foot and on horseback, and she loved to run.

The undergrowth was thick, but that was good, since it would slow the horses. Raven On the Ground vaulted logs and avoided boulders. She was pleased at how her legs were bearing up under the strain. Lavender was close behind her, mouth set in grim determination. Flute Girl had fallen behind, but Raven On The Ground glimpsed her, struggling hard to keep up.

The drum of hooves was louder.

Raven On The Ground was going as fast as she could, but she couldn’t outrun horses. She and the others needed somewhere to hide. A thicket appeared, but the whites could surround it and they would be trapped. She raced on, and suddenly the woods thinned, revealing a slope littered with boulders before them. She barely slowed. Lavender was
farther back, wheezing with every stride. There was no sign of Flute Girl.

Raven On The Ground stopped. She refused to leave her friends. Wheeling, she waited for Lavender to reach her. Lavender was flushed and swayed unsteadily.

“I can’t go on.”

“Rest a moment.”

“I need more than that.”

Raven On The Ground looked for Flute Girl, but she didn’t appear.

Out of the woods exploded two riders.

Whirling, Raven On The Ground took flight, but she had only taken a few bounds when a blow to her shoulder slammed her to the earth. She heard Lavender cry out. Dust got into her eyes and nose as she rolled across the ground. Above her loomed Geist on a stallion. He pointed a rifle at her and said something. Although she didn’t understand the words, his meaning was clear.

Sitting up, she saw Lavender on the ground in Petrie’s grasp. She punched at his chest, but it had no effect.

Raven On The Ground bowed her head in sorrow. She had been so sure they would reach their village. Geist’s saddle creaked and iron fingers seized her by the hair. She was thrown down again and kicked. The pain was terrible, but it hurt worse to be thwarted in their escape.

Petrie bound Lavender’s wrists behind her back and then tied Raven On The Ground.

By then Dryfus had joined them, Flute Girl walking in front of his horse, a bloody smear on her forehead.

Last to arrive was Berber, leading the extra horses. One by one, the women were thrown roughly over a mount. Berber held onto the lead rope.

Geist growled at Dryfus, who listened and translated in sign.

You make bad mistake. You make us mad. Now we hurt you. We hurt you much
.

Chapter Twenty

Chases Rabbits never thought he would be grateful to Utes, but he was. The war party had gone off to the south and nowhere near the pass into King Valley. So now he and Zach were riding hard for the trading post, the wolf loping tirelessly beside Zach’s horse.

Chases Rabbits couldn’t wait to get there, couldn’t wait to set his eyes on Raven On The Ground. He missed her with all that he was, although he would never tell Zach that.

Early on the morning of the third day, they wound down out of the foothills toward Mud Hollow. Chases Rabbits rose in his saddle to try and see the trading post, but they weren’t close enough yet.

“We almost there.”

“Toad gave you no notion why he needed to see my pa?” Zach asked.

“No. Him only say it urgent. Urgent mean hurry up quick, yes?”

“Pretty much,” Zach confirmed. He stiffened suddenly and said, “What the hell?”

The hollow had come into sight.

Chases Rabbits felt his heart leap into his throat. Where the lodge for the women had been was a wide black spot and charred wood. “What that be?” he wondered without thinking.

“The building burned down,” Zach said. He bent and motioned to the wolf. “Sit.”

To Chases Rabbits’s amazement, the wolf did.

“Stay,” Zach commanded, and used his heels on the dun.

Chases Rabbits followed suit. Fear for Raven On The Ground filled him. He was close behind the dun when Zach drew rein in a flurry of dust next to the spot where the burned lodge had been.

A few Nez Perce were in front of the trading post. A couple of Pawnees were there. Two of the whites, Berber and Gratt, were lounging at the hitch rail, and when they saw Chases Rabbits and Zach ride up, they hurried inside.

Chases Rabbits swung down and stared at the pile in dismay. “Raven On The Ground,” he said softly.

“I don’t see any bones,” Zach said.

“Sorry?” Chases Rabbits couldn’t think of what bones had to do with it.

“Bones don’t always burn up.”

“Oh.” Chases Rabbits didn’t find that particularly encouraging.

“Come on,” Zach said. He wheeled toward the mercantile, then stopped short.

Toad, Geist, and Petrie were walking toward them, Geist smiling, and Petrie with his rifle in the crook of his arm, the muzzle practically brushing Toad’s shoulder.

“How do you do, gentlemen?” Toad said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Forget that,” Zach said, and pointed at the blackened circle. “What happened? Where are the women?”

“Where Raven On The Ground?” Chases Rabbits specifically demanded.

“We had a fire, obviously,” Toad said. “A lamp was knocked over. We did what we could, but it wasn’t enough to contain the flames.”

“And the women?” Zach pressed him.

“Raven On The Ground?” Chases Rabbits said.

Geist stepped past Toad and good-naturedly clapped Chases Rabbits on the arm. “Don’t fret, my friend. The women are fine. They got out in plenty of time and ran to us for help.”

“Where they now?” Chases Rabbits anxiously asked.

“They’ve gone back to your village.”

Chases Rabbits almost fainted with relief. But that wouldn’t be becoming of a warrior, so he adopted a stony expression and said simply, “Good.”

“We plan to rebuild,” Geist said. “Then we’ll send for the women again, provided they’re still willing to work for us.”

“Me bet they be,” Chases Rabbits said, remembering how eager Raven On The Ground was to acquire some red cloth and beads.

“We’re just glad they weren’t hurt,” Geist said.

Toad cleared his throat. “Mr. King, how about a drink on the house?”

“I don’t drink,” Zach said flatly.

“Not ever?”

“No.”

“How about a meal, then?”

“I’m not all that hungry.”

“Some coffee and a biscuit, perhaps? You’ve ridden a long way.”

Geist shifted toward Toad and lost some of his smile. “You heard him. He’s not hungry and he’s not thirsty.”

“I just thought…” Toad said.

“Me thirsty,” Chases Rabbits said. “Can me have water?”

“Of course you can,” Toad answered. “Come inside.”

“There’s the stream right there,” Geist said, and pointed.

“You make it difficult to be polite,” Toad remarked.

Chases Rabbits was about to lead the pinto to the stream when he realized he was forgetting something. “Oh. Me sorry not bring Grizzly Killer. Stalking Coyote come instead.”

Toad smiled an odd smile.

“What was that?” Geist asked.

“Grizzly Killer,” Chases Rabbits repeated, then realized the white man might not know whom he was referring to. “Nate King. Mr. Toad ask me fetch him urgent.”

“He did, did he?”

“Yes.”

“Did he say why?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Zach said.

Toad opened his mouth to say something, glanced at Petrie, and hesitated. “I merely wanted to have your father invite the Shoshones to pay us a visit. None have been here yet, and I’m counting on doing business with them.”

“I’ll have my mother ask them for you,” Zach said.

“I would be very grateful. Thank you.”

Geist rubbed his hands together. “Well, then. We have work to do. If you’ll excuse us…” He nodded at Petrie and Toad, and Toad walked off with Petrie behind him. Geist smiled and trailed after them.

“Him nice man,” Chases Rabbits said.

Chapter Twenty-one

Elihu Levi was his birth name. When he was little, his family took to calling him “Pudgy” and he hated it. By his tenth year, his bulging eyes and squat build sparked a cousin to one day laughingly call him a toad, and the nickname stuck. He hated that even more, and had disliked his cousin ever since.

His schoolmates teased him mercilessly. His relatives weren’t much better. Small wonder he felt like an outcast, even among his own kind. He shunned people and devoted himself to his passion—business. For a few years he worked with his family in dry goods, but his dream was to own his own store. Thanks to his grandfather, who had left him a few thousand dollars in his will, he moved from Indiana to St. Louis and set up a mercantile.

His family was against it. Why St. Louis? they asked. Toad explained that it was the gateway to the frontier, that it was the supply point for freight trains and wagon trains streaming to Santa Fe and to Oregon Country, and there were riches to be made. His mercantile flourished and he was content, or he would have been, if not for the tales.

From the freighters and frontiersmen, Toad heard endless stories about the mysterious lands to the west, about nigh-endless prairie, majestic mountains, and a host of wonders to dazzle the eyes; about friendly Indians, hostiles, and beasts galore. The tales took root. He began to want to see some of the
wonders for himself. The desire built and built until it couldn’t be denied.

So it was that one day, Toad promoted one of his assistants and left the man to oversee his St. Louis store while he ventured off into the great unknown. He was determined to have the first-ever mercantile west of the Mississippi River. He advertised for adventurous men willing to brave the dangers of his employ, and Geist was one of the first to respond. It turned out that Geist knew of four others, and before Toad knew it, he had the helpers he needed.

Now, standing alone behind the counter late in the afternoon, his insides in turmoil, Toad berated himself for being so gullible. He’d hired a viper and not realized it. A pack of vipers who’d taken over his store, murdered a Crow maiden, and imprisoned her friends in the storeroom.

Toad had no illusions about the outcome if the Crows found out. The mercantile would become a smoldering ruin. Worse, the Crows might vent their wrath on him. He’d heard that some tribes were fond of torture, and he could do without being staked out and having his skin flayed.

Toad came to a decision. He was going to rescue the maidens. He would sneak into the storeroom, free them, and help them slip away before Geist or any of his men caught on. But no sooner had he come around the end of the counter than Geist and Petrie stepped from the hall, barring his way.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Out back,” Toad said.

“No, you’re not.” Geist pushed him. “You’re not going anywhere. We have some talking to do.”

Toad had to swallow to say, “What about?”

“That urgent business you sent Chases Rabbits on. You sent for Nate King to warn him about me, didn’t you?”

Toad glanced behind him to see if the aisle to the door was clear. It wasn’t. Dryfus and Berber were behind him.

“Any redskins outside?” Geist asked them.

“A few Flatheads, is all,” Dryfus said.

“You told them the rule that all Indians are to be gone by dark?”

“I did. They said they’d be back in the morning to trade.”

Geist gave Toad a vicious smile. “We’ll wait until they leave.”

“I’m no threat to you,” Toad said.

“The hell you’re not.” Geist shook his head. “No, you know too much.” He drew a flintlock and said to Dryfus, “Tie him up and throw him in the storeroom with the bitches. We’re getting the hell out of here at daybreak.”

“We’re tucking tail and running?” Petrie said.

“We’re being smart. This hasn’t gone anywhere near the way I planned. I should never have left the States. Out here there’s too much I can’t control.”

“We could head down Santa Fe way or off to Oregon,” Petrie said.

“And what? Rob people for a living? What kind of life is that? The pickings would be slim and we’d always be on the run.” Geist shook his head. “The States is where we belong.” He pointed the flintlock at Toad’s face. “Now do as I told you with this fat slob and we’ll get to packing.”

Dryfus prodded Toad in the back with his rifle and Toad moved down the hall to the storage room. Gratt was standing guard over the women. Dryfus
and Berber shoved Toad inside, but it was Petrie who tied him.

“Better say your prayers,
Levi
. You don’t have long before you’ll be burning in hell.”

“If there’s any justice in this world,” Toad said, “you won’t get away with this.”

“There isn’t,” Petrie said, and laughed.

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