Authors: Georgina Gentry
Colt (10 page)
Spider glared at Colt and spat on the ground. “He comes for the woman.”
Colt took a deep breath, and then Hannah and a small half-breed boy emerged from the teepee. Hannah looked bruised and exhausted, standing there holding her child's hand, but she did not speak and there were no tears in those big blue eyes.
“Come.” Many Scalps gestured. “We will eat and smoke and talk.”
“No, send him out of this camp,” Spider snarled.
His father glared at him. “We will eat and talk. I am still leader of this band.”
The other old men murmured agreement.
Colt knew Spider had always been rash and hotheaded. He nodded to the warriors, knowing most white men rushed to talk about why they had come while the Indians liked ceremony and a lot of discussion. White men lacked patience. Colt could wait, but he did not intend to leave without Hannah.
Soon the men had set up a big circle around a small fire, all sitting cross-legged and waiting solemnly while the women poured big tin cups of strong, sweet coffee and the pipe was brought out, filled, and solemnly passed from hand to hand.
Spider made a wry face. “I will not smoke the pipe with Young Stallion. I do not trust him.”
His father looked at him. “He is your blood brother, my son, and you will join in the ceremony as the other warriors do.”
There was going to be trouble before this was over, Colt thought as he accepted the pipe and took a deep puff of the fragrant tobacco. He could not fight his way out of this campâthere were too many warriorsâbut he had decided he would die fighting rather than leave Hannah here. She stood watching, holding onto her little son's hand. Her eyes begged for help, but she did not weep.
“Now,” Many Scalps said as the pipe finished making the circle and the women started to serve food, “now we will talk.”
Hannah was dutifully serving stewed meat in gourds around the circle of men and Colt noted her hand trembled as she put meat into his dish.
“So,” asked Many Scalps, “what is happening at the fort?”
Colt took a deep breath. “It is hard for us to maintain peace with the Comanche when Spider slips in at night and cuts the throat of one of our soldiers.”
The other men turned to look at Spider.
His father glared at him. “I gave you no leave to sneak into the fort.”
Spider shrugged. “It was necessary; I wanted to get my woman back.”
“She is my woman,” Colt said before he thought. “She was my woman before she was yours and I want her back.”
“Never!” Spider put his hand on the knife in his belt. “My other woman gives me no sons. The white woman will give me many more like Grasshopper.”
“She is my woman and I want her back,” Colt said sternly.
Murmuring around the circle.
“I have lived too long when blood brothers quarrel over a mere woman.” Many Scalps sighed and abruptly looked very old. “When I was young, the buffalo were like grains of sand across the prairie and our women were fruitful. Life was good for the people and our allies.”
A murmur of wistful agreement from all the old men.
“Now,” Many Scalps continued, “the white men are killing all the game and plowing up Mother Earth to plant their crops.”
“And putting up fences to keep us from roaming,” Spider snarled.
“I know all this and it makes me sad for the people,” Colt agreed, “but it will not change. The white men are more numerous than raindrops in a spring storm and they will slowly spread out across this place they call Texas and push the Comanche and the other tribes farther west.”
“So how will it end?” another white-haired old warrior asked.
Colt hesitated. There was no answer that held any hope for the Comanche. They and the other plains tribes would be crowded farther and farther until there was no place for them at all and then they would be put on reservations and fed government rations. This would be a terrible end for the best horsemen of the plains, who had always roamed wild and free.
He cleared his throat. “There is no good answer except to try to make peace with the whites and stop attackin' their ranches because the Big Chief in Washington has sent more soldiers and supplies. They will come after you every time you go on the warpath.”
“We have the best warriors and we will fight!” yelled a young brave and the other young ones took up the shout. “Fight! We will fight!”
Many Scalps held up his hand for silence. “What Young Stallion says is true, and I know that, finally, the white man must win.”
The young warriors set up a chorus of denial.
“Hear me!” Many Scalps thundered. “What he says is true, but we cannot accept being penned up like a herd of tame sheep, so we will fight on until we can fight no more.”
Colt sighed. “It is what I expected to hear, but I wanted to bring you the truth.” He looked around. Hannah and her little boy had disappeared into a teepee.
Many Scalps looked at the sky. Storm clouds were gathering on the far horizon and an occasional blade of lightning split the darkness. “So, my adopted son, my old eyes are happy to see you once more. Will you stay?”
Colt shook his head and glared into Spider's dark eyes. “No, I have pledged my word to the leader of the white soldiers, but I mean the people no harm. I come only to get the white woman. My blood brother has had her warming his blankets for almost four years now and I want her back.”
Spider jumped to his feet. “I will kill Young Stallion before I let him take the yellow-haired captive. I want more sons from her.”
“You have a first wife,” Colt said. “And many Comanche maidens would be pleased to be your second woman.”
“She is a prize I took in a raid,” Spider snarled, “and I like showing the white girl off when other tribes gather.”
Many Scalps motioned his son to sit back down. “You know you may not kill your blood brother, especially not over something so unimportant as a woman. We all have captured women and used them as slaves and wivesâ”
“But not one with yellow hair,” Spider insisted.
“Does not Peta Nocona have one with yellow hair?” Many Scalps asked.
“Yes, but that is another band of our people. You know mine is the only white girl in our band.”
Colt shrugged. “I want the yellow-haired one returned. She has warmed my blood brother's blankets long enough.”
One of the old men suggested, “As blood brothers, you can share the woman.”
Colt winced at the thought of the slender Hannah under Spider's hard-driving body. Colt knew he could be brutal. “That is true.” He nodded. “And if I were to stay in the camp, we could share her, but I must return to the white soldier fort, so I come for her.”
Spider again put his hand on his knife. “She gives me more pleasure than any woman I have ever lain with. I will not give her up.”
He would do anything to protect Hannah, but of course, he could not kill his blood brother. He looked toward Many Scalps. “I will stand by the wisdom of the Council of Warriors.”
Many Scalps's shoulders sagged. “All over a mere woman. She is not worth trouble between blood brothers.”
Another old brave spoke up. “I have a beautiful daughter, Running Doe, who many young men have offered horses and gifts for. I say I will give her to either of these warriors if it will solve this conflict.”
A murmur went around the circle and there was much nodding of heads at the wisdom of this compromise. Obviously, Running Doe was a beauty, but Colt shook his head. “I want only the yellow-haired woman.”
“And I will not give her up!” Spider was on his feet, shouting and shaking his fist.
“Then there is only one way to settle this,” Many Scalps sighed. “The two will have a wrestling match and the winner will get the girl.”
“No!” shouted both Colt and Spider at once.
“Be silent!” Many Scalps thundered. “This is my decision: Spider and Young Stallion will wrestle for her this afternoon and neither will use a weapon.”
Thunder rumbled across the camp as the other warriors murmured that this was just. The winner of the match would get the white girl, and then the tribal elders could move on to more important things than women.
Colt stood up. “I will do this thing you ask, Many Scalps.” He began pulling off his shirt. “But it has been a long time since I have wrestled.”
Spider scoffed. “Living among the white men has made you soft, Young Stallion. I will beat you easily, and tonight, as you ride back to the soldiers, I will be lying between the warm thighs of the yellow-haired woman, pumping my seed into her.”
Colt ground his teeth at the thought. He had already chosen another woman for himself, and yet, the thought of Hannah in Spider's arms enraged him. He had to win to get Hannah out of the Comanche camp. He sat down and began unbuckling his belt.
Word quickly spread through the Comanche camp that two noted warriors would be wrestling this afternoon for possession of the yellow-haired slave and everyone began gathering. Each combatant went off to a solitary place to rest and pray for good medicine.
The time seemed long to Colt and he wished he could speak to Hannah, but she was hidden away in a teepee. Finally Colt and Spider stripped down to nothing but breechcloths and moccasins. Each had painted his face and prayed for good medicine as dozens of Comanche formed a circle.
The dark clouds overhead had thickened and the wind picked up suddenly as the two stepped into a ring made by hundreds of curious Comanches.
Many Scalps gestured. “Bring the prize out so she can watch and know that the victor has fought a great fight to possess her.”
Two of the women went to drag Hannah out of her teepee, kicking and screaming. Colt fought a desire to rush to her aid, but he knew he must not. He ignored her as if she were nothing but a prize to be won. Her worn and tattered deerskin shift was almost falling from her shoulders, exposing her fine breasts. She tried to cover them in vain.
Many Scalps said, “Stake her where the two can see the prize.”
And two warriors stepped forward and tied her hands behind her back so that she could no longer hide those fine breasts that were now visible for all to see. They tied a rope around one of her slim ankles and drove a stake into the ground so that she was on a tether like a dog on a leash.
She looked at Colt, her mouth quivering, but she did not shed a tear.
“Now,” said Many Scalps, “my two sons will move to the center of the ring and you will wrestle. The winner gets the girl and that will end the conflict between blood brothers.”
Colt intended to take Hannah and her little son out of this camp or die trying. He stepped into the circle made by the hundreds of Comanches. Young girls giggled and looked envious as if they each wished two great warriors would fight to possess them. He gave Hannah an encouraging nod as she stood there tall and proud, seemingly oblivious to the other warriors staring at her smooth skin and fine breasts. Many of them would like to bed Yellow-Hair, Colt knew.
He gave her a nod of confidence, but he did not feel confident. He knew he could out-fight any of the soldiers at the fort, but he also knew this Comanche warrior was as tough as a cougar, his muscles rippled under his brown skin. He was not at all sure he could win against Spider, although he had often beaten him when they wrestled as boys. Yet when he thought of Hannah lying under Spider tonight as an object of his lust, he knew he could not lose because he would not let her be used as Spider's plaything anymore.
Many Scalps stepped into the circle and motioned for both men to come forward. He placed a wrinkled hand on the shoulder of each man and began a singsong chant of prayer and the hundreds of Comanche quieted reverently. After a moment, he finished and the gathering was so silent, Colt could hear his own heart beating.
“Now!” said Many Scalps and stepped back out of the ring.
For a long moment, the two adversaries crouched, glaring at each other and moving about carefully, and then Spider rushed in and tackled Colt around the knees and took him down to the ground.
The crowd set up a shout, urging on their favorites as Spider sank his teeth into Colt's thigh and Colt struggled to get out from under him.
God, that hurt!
He felt the other's teeth go deep into his flesh as he twisted away and staggered to his feet, blood running down his leg.
He felt the other's teeth go deep into his flesh as he twisted away and staggered to his feet, blood running down his leg.
Spider grinned at him without humor, blood on his mouth. Colt knew he faced the most formidable enemy on the plains now. To keep the yellow-haired captive, Spider would bite and claw and gouge and even break arms and legs to disable his opponent.
Each circled the other warily, respecting the other's fighting skills. Colt pretended to jab, then suddenly rushed Spider, slamming him across the ground and into the fire. Spider rolled out of the campfire, quick as his namesake. Colt could hear the whole silent crowd take a deep breath as they faced one another again, each breathing hard. Night was coming on and the clouds turned darker on the horizon. The air was as thick and warm as wool and both men were wet with sweat and covered with dust from the dry ground.
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