Savage Beloved
Two Eagles did not respond right away.
He gazed hard at the fort and listened to the silence. Only moments ago the air had been split by war cries, screams of pain, and the sound of hundreds of arrows being loosed from their bowstrings.
“My chief, should we retreat now and return wissgutts, home?” Running Wolf asked, again trying to draw his chief’s attention. “It is done. All are dead. That should be enough, do you not think?”
Two Eagles turned his head quickly and gazed angrily into his sentry’s eyes. “Do you think it is enough?” he asked thickly. “Do you not recall any reason besides besting the pony soldiers that brought us here this evening?”
Running Wolf’s face twisted in puzzlement, and then Two Eagles saw that his warrior finally remembered the chore that still lay ahead of them.
He spoke no more of it now, for he knew it was no longer necessary to say it aloud. The knowledge of what he was thinking was visible in the eyes of his warrior.
He looked past Running Wolf at the others.
He raised a fist in the air. “Come with me,” he said in a low voice that would carry to his men but would not travel on the wind to the crafty ears of the murdering Sioux.
It would be a double victory for the Sioux if they realized that the Wichita were so near. They would surely defeat their traditional enemies, for the number of warriors that rode with the Sioux chief were double those who were with Chief Two Eagles.
Two Eagles kneed his arrus, his horse, snapped his reins, and rode onto the parade grounds, which were easily accessible because Fort Hope had no protective walls around it.
Urging his steed to a slow lope, as did those who rode beside and behind him, Two Eagles gazed from one dead white man to another. They were sprawled on the ground in their own spilled blood, making a gruesome spectacle. When he had covered the full length of the parade grounds, Two Eagles stopped.
He wheeled his horse around and again studied what the Sioux had left behind.
Except for the slight whispering of the breeze, nothing could be heard. There were no sounds; just the strange silence that came after a massacre.
His gaze then went to the buildings that lined one side of the fort, homing in on the main cabin that stood in the center of the parade grounds. Two Eagles knew it was the home of the colonel, as well as the main headquarters of the fort.
He looked slowly and carefully from one building to the other for any signs of life.
All he saw was how the red sunset reflected from the glass of those windows that had not been broken by Sioux arrows. The light seemed to spread like bloody stains.
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“All are dead, do you not think?” Running Wolf asked as he again came and rested on his steed beside Two Eagles.
“We must be certain,” Two Eagles said flatly. He nodded toward several of his warriors, one at a time. “You go and check all the buildings but the one that stands alone. I will go there myself.”
“And what then, my chief?” Running Wolf asked. “Do we leave the buildings as they are, or do we burn them?”
Two Eagles looked in the direction of the fleeing Sioux, then gazed into the eyes of his questioning warrior. “We will burn everything. It would be best to do it before full night comes. Otherwise, the reflection of the fire in the dark heavens might bring the Sioux back to see what causes it,” he said tightly.
His gaze moved around him, studying each building more carefully, then he frowned as he again focused on the one in particular that set his heart afire with anger. He would never forget how these white pony soldiers had treated his beloved uncle, or forgive the man who had been in charge at this fort.
Colonel Creighton.
“Running Wolf, you come with me to the main headquarters building,” he said thickly. “It is there that we will find our reason for remaining here tonight.”
Everyone knew what he was referring to.
They nodded, then went their separate ways as Two Eagles and Running Wolf approached Colonel Creighton’s cabin.
When they arrived at the main headquarters of the fort, Two Eagles drew rein and dismounted, nodding to Running Wolf, who did the same. They walked up the two steps that led to a closed door.
Being prepared for anything, even the possibility that somehow someone in this building might have come through the attack alive, Two Eagles yanked his large, sharp knife from the sheath at his right side, then with his free hand opened the door. The resulting creak sounded ominous in the stillness of the evening.
Two Eagles stepped inside with Running Wolf close behind him, his own knife ready in case it was needed.
But silence again ruled, with only a whistling sound coming through the broken glass of the windows.