Sweet Savage Surrender (22 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Hockett

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Sweet Savage Surrender
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But though
the plan
had seemed so simple
,
it
turned
out to be filled with complications. While
Chivington was away none of the other officers would even dare think ab
out approving such a mission, b
ecause they knew how the Colonel felt about Indians, John supposed.  Two days dragged by, seeming more like two months but as soon as Chivington returned from
Denver
,
John hurried to his headquarters and told him of his plan,
cautiously choosing his words.

"You want to do what?"   Colonel Chivington
looked at John with annoyance.

"I would like  your permission to visit
Lean Bear
's camp," John repeated.

"For the love of God why?"  Chivington's cold eyes surveyed him. 
Like a weasel's
John thought uneasily.

"To seek peace betwee
n our people and the Indians."

"Peace?  Peace, you say?"  The Colonel's face was slowly turning a deep red
,
and for a moment John was certain he'd e
nd up right back in the brig.

"I heard about what happened.  About those three men being attacked.  Perhaps a peaceable chief can help by talking sense into them.  I've heard such things have happened before.  Just give me a week to see if they will council with us.  That's all I ask
.”

The sudden silence was unnerving
,
but at last Chivington asked, "just what is the reason for such an unexpected request?"  Though it appeared he was trying to keep his anger under control
,
nonetheless he
spoke in a low-throated growl.
"Is possible that you are a seeker of glory and want all the honors for yourself ?  Are you trying to usurp
my
authority.  Do you want to prove that you can handle these savages better than I can?  Trying to get yourself p
romoted, Major?"

John Hanlen did not answer immediately.  What did one say to a colonel who was himself a seeker of glory and an avowed Indian hater?   The truth was he did think he could do a better job in managing the peace.  He had absolutely no respect for Chivington and his kind
,
yet he couldn't say that.  Chivigton was an ass!   Such a man could not be expected to understand rational reasoning. 
Above all, how could he even hope to make the
colonel
understand about Skyraven and his feelings
for her?  Love was undoubtedly a word no
t in the colonel's vocabulary.

"No, sir.  I am not after a promotion," John said carefully.  "It is just that I have been over the  area before and know it quite well.  I believe that I can be of some help.  And I would like to offer my services
." 

"Your services!  As I recall
,
you lost a whole unit to an ambush and nearly got yourself killed as well.  That really doesn't qualify you as a
n expert on the terrain here."

John's fac
e flushed.
He knew that what the colonel was saying was true
,
but somehow he had to find a way to go alone, first to the
Cheyenne
village, then to warn Skyraven and her people to seek peace as soon as possible. "What you say is true, Sir.  But perhaps at times a man who has learned by his mistakes will not repeat them.  Perhaps having experienced what I did will give me insight.  Knowing the penalty of violence makes me value
peace all the more highly."
             

For awhile the silence between the two officers was  unnerving as the colonel looked John Hanlen over from head to toe. 
Is he trying to read my mind
? John thought to himself
,
hoping all the while that the colonel could not see through his
facade
and remember about the Indian maiden..  Well, it really didn't matter what the colonel  thought as long as he was able to go on ahead.  The cavalry units were being ordered to bring fire
and death to the tribes.
He had to warn Skyr
aven in time to save her life.

Chivington circled round and round John, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.  The boards of the wooden floor creaked beneath his great girth.  He couldn't hide his irritation and for a moment John lost all hope.  But strangely enough
,
instead of denying his request flat out he said merely, "I'll have to think
about your
suggestion
." 

"Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir." 
             

"
Don’t thank me until after I decide. And
if
I decide to allow you to go on ahead, Major Hanlen, just be sure that
if
you reach the village,” he emphasized the ‘if” again with a scowl,
you save some of those heathen savages for us to deal with later.
” John wondered what he meant by that but didn’t ask. “
Leave me now, Major.  I have to think about this."  He dismi
ssed John without another word.

"John hurried from  the room, fearful lest his
presence
do more harm than good.  Perhaps he would use Sedgwick's influence again.
There really was no
time to waste.   If the colonel didn't decide soon
well,
he would have to go anyway.   John knew that he could be sentenced to death for any deviation from orders but already some troops were out scouring the countryside with the order to burn villages and kill troublesome tribes.  He couldn't let such a terrible fate ensnarl Skyraven.  She had saved his life, her tribesmen were peaceful.  If he had to
, he would 
act now and suffer the consequences later.  "Oh, Skyraven, Skyraven" he  murmured "  You gave me back my life and now I must save yours.
"

Closing his eyes, he remembered her lovely ace, her smile as she talked about her people. She truly thought the spirits had brought them together.
Well,
Perhaps they had.
If that was so, then he prayed with all his heart that they would intervene again, that all would go
  well and that he would see her soon.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three
             
             

Close to
the time he had made up his mind to find a way to sneak out of the fort, Major John Hanlen was summoned to  Colonel Chivington's headquarters.  Lieutenant Colonel Henry Sedgwick was also in the room
,
and as John stepped inside he
smiled a friendly greeting.  Sedgwick’s
presence
served
as a buffer to the tension Hanlen felt . 

"Tell me, Major, do you still want to go on your peace mission?"  Chivington
asked with forced politeness.

"I do."

"Then I have decided to give you permission.  Hopefully I will not regret my decision."  He looked towards Sedgwick, "and have to tell your father you are coming home witho
ut your scalp, in a pine box!"

"Believe me, you won't, Sir!" 
It was all that John could to
contain his excitement. 
He grinned at Henry Sedgwick, knowing well that the final decision had somehow been his doing. 
He didn’t care how he
had
managed
it or what he had said
.
All he knew was that he had been given a chance to save Skyraven and her people
,
and that
was all that really mattered.
             

John
  set out from
Fort
Lyon
at five A.M
., driving himself onward at a steadfast pace, following Andrews directions.  He felt compelled to reach
Lean Bear
's
Cheyenne
camp as quickly as possible, perhaps because he feared that somehow Chivington might change his mind and ride after him to bring him back to the fort.  When no riders appeared on the horizon to follow him, however, he guided Running Antelope a
long at a more leisurely pace.

A stillness hung over the wide
stretch of land he traveled, a
quiet that seemed to contradict the threat of violence
which threatened the area. The
Republican
River
flowed
peacefully like a shimmering ribbon, reflecting the light of the  midday sun.  Cottonwood and
Willow
trees dotted the landscape.
Indian territory
, he mused, land they wouldn't want to give
up.  But could he blame them? 
How sad, he thought, that there were men among his kind like Chivington who just couldn't seem to understand.  But then hadn't he been just as biased in his opinions until Skyraven had open up his heart and mind?

John traveled up a path that took him to a valley beside a the busy stream, listening to the jingle of his horses' harness and the clomp of Running Antelope's hooves.  As he went along
,
he played over and over again in his mind just what he was going to say to the chief when he met with him.  Strange how he'd tried to convince Chivington that he was an expert on Indians.  The truth was
,
except for Skyraven he'd never even met any Indians before.
He was
merely
going on what she
had
said, and yet her word was enough. Skyraven valued honesty, perhaps that was the answer. He’d confide in
Lean Bear
that he cared
for
an Indian
maiden and then let
their talk go on from there.

Skyraven.  The closer he approached the Indian encampment the stronger his memories of her became.  From the very first he had been drawn to her, had sensed that she was different from the women he'd met before.  There was an innocence about her that brought out his protectiveness.  He admired her integrity, her womanliness, her knowledge, her way of speaking frankly without playing at games.  There was no coyness, no batting eyelashes, no feigned fainting spells to try and get her own way.  She just spoke the truth from her heart.  It was to her inner qualities as much as her startling beauty that he responded.  He doubted she even knew just how beautiful she was, but he’d be sure to tell her emphatically when at last they met again.

It was now about three
o'clock  in the afternoon.  He had made very good tim
e but then, he knew he would, for t
here was  no faster horse anywhere around than Running Antelope.  Not only did she know every inch of the terrain
with an instinct that was uncanny,
but she was in tip top shape.  She  had been given the best of care
,
even while John was in the brig.  Lieutenant Dunham had seen to her grooming, her fee
ding, watering and exercise. 

In some ways he wished that the young lieutenant was with him now.  He had wanted to come
,
but John thought it would be better if he traveled alone for this mission.   Indians were not as apt to fall upon a single man as they were two  or more,  o
r at least so he had been told. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to press his luck in asking for anything else. Henry had just so much influence on the colonel after all.

John had traveled along on the east side of the Big Sand Creek being careful not to trespass on the Indian hunting reserve.  If those red men had taken out after the three hunters, it was probably because they had been  within the hunting reserve and not outside of it as they had claimed to be.  John knew Gustave Flinch, one of the hunters,  was known for telling tall tales containing little truth if any
.
  Just why the Colonel had chosen to take his word in the dispute was something John could not understand.  Everyone knew it was against government policy to interfer with Indian rights.  God only knew, m
uch of their land had already
been stolen from beneath their feet.  It would seem someone could listen to their side of things once in awhile
,  but the authorities never seemed to. It was always assumed that the Indians were in the wrong
.

Continuing on, John stopped by the side of the
Sandy
River
only long enough to rest Running Antelope.  Finding a shallow place in the stream
,
he knelt down
to cup his hands and drink the
cool water.  He brushed himself off a bit and splashed water over his head, arms and upper chest.
He had not seen a single soul as he traveled northward looking for the
Cheyenne
village. Things had been very peaceful and serene, though at times
he had the feeling he was being watched
.
He couldn't be certain.
  Running Antelope was tired and thirsty; thus
he waited a bit longer than he had planned.
 
Spirals of smoke gave proof that the Indian camp was right over the next hill.  The thought that he ha
d at last arrived scrambled his
emotions.  Anxiety and excitement
ran rampant.

"Whoa!  What is this? "
T
here were footprints in the wet sand.  They had been made quite recently from the looks of things.   Apparently there  was only one  person
, but he couldn’t be certain. John’s curiosity was piqued and he thought he had better check it out. Suppose, just suppose
there
really was a band of renegade Indians about the area? He’d have to make certain that he didn’t have any unwelcome surprises.

John took Running Antelopes reins in his left hand and led her along the wet
, sandy shore
following the footprints.  All the while his other hand  gr
iped  the pistol in his holster.
In this country he did not want to appear warlike.  It was best to have any weapons out of sight unless needed.   His rifle and
saber
were both in saddle holsters where he could get to them easily enough in case of trouble.

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