Shaman Part 106

Wolf Paw walked beside Redbird and Eagle Feather. Redbird missed the familiar weight of the baby on her back, and started to weep again. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, filling with milk that would not be sucked, began to ache.

After they had walked a long time in silence, Wolf Paw said, "I failed you, Redbird. You asked me to protect your children. I sent my own wives and my children to their deaths, and now I did not save your daughter. I am not a man."

The pale eyes had not killed Wolf Paw, Redbird thought, but they had killed his spirit. She would try to heal him. Nothing would bring back Floating Lily, but perhaps she could give new life to this man.

When they stopped to sleep that night she lay on her back on the ground staring up at the sky, Eagle Feather snuggled close to her, Wolf Paw and Wind Bends Gra.s.s nearby.

A bird appeared on a tree limb overhead.

Even though it was night, she could somehow see that the bird's plumage was a red as bright as the strip of blanket she had left on Floating Lily's grave. Around his eyes was a black mask, and on his head a crest of red feathers.

The bird flew to a more distant tree limb, and she felt that he called her to follow him. She stood up, and none of the sleeping people noticed her. She walked past a long knife on guard with a rifle, and he looked right through her.

The bright bird darted into a black opening in the hillside above the river, and Redbird followed. In the cave all she could see was the glow of red wings far ahead of her. There were many twists and turns, and she went down very far.

She began to see light ahead. It appeared so gradually that her eyes adjusted to it easily, and when she came to a chamber that was brightly lit she was neither dazzled nor blinded.

The walls of the chamber rose high above her, hard and smooth and clear as ice, and they glistened with a light that seemed to be everywhere behind them. She heard a murmuring and a rustling, and saw in niches cut into the wall many kinds of creatures, plants and animals and birds. She looked down at fish swimming restlessly in the dark pool that formed most of the floor.

In the center of the pool was an island, and on the island a huge ancient Turtle squatted on four wrinkled, gray-green legs.

_Welcome, daughter_, said the Turtle.

22

Renegade

Raoul sat on the edge of his chair in Fort Crawford's a.s.sembly room, waiting for the guards to bring in Auguste. In a row beside him sat seven other militia officers, all of whom had been witnesses against the Indian leaders.

Raoul discovered all at once that he was trembling with antic.i.p.ation.

_Let today be the day_--it was almost a prayer, but he did not know who would hear such a prayer--_let them string him up today_.

_Let me see that d.a.m.ned mongrel die._

Today the commanders of the army that had defeated Black Hawk would tell the Sauk and Fox leaders their fate. The less important Indians were to be dealt with first, so Auguste would be coming in now.

Raoul watched avidly as Auguste walked in between two privates, his wrists handcuffed, carrying an iron ball at the end of a chain attached to his ankles. The sight of the mongrel in chains was more satisfying than a good swig of Old Kaintuck.

Raoul had not seen Auguste since the day they had faced each other too briefly on that b.l.o.o.d.y island off the mouth of the Bad Axe. Again Raoul saw that Auguste's right ear, partly covered by his long black locks, was split into upper and lower halves, with a red, partly healed gap between them.

_Eli's bullet must have gone through his ear instead of his head. And, knowing Eli, that was no accident. That was why he said I'd find a surprise up in Michigan Territory._

Raoul's fingers worked in his lap. That gap-toothed old b.a.s.t.a.r.d had deliberately lied to him about killing Auguste. Why? What could he gain by keeping Auguste alive?

Auguste's dark eyes widened as they met Raoul's, and from across the room his hatred struck Raoul like a blow. Raoul remembered the woman whose throat he had cut.

_His mother. But killing her was still not enough to pay me back for Clarissa and Phil and Andy. For the burning of Victoire._

Auguste turned his back to Raoul and faced the three commanders, who sat at a long table behind which a big American flag was nailed to the plaster wall.

In the center was Major General Winfield Scott, finally arrived from the East to take charge of what was left of the war. Raoul hoped Scott had come out here with President Jackson's orders to send this pack of savages to the gallows. The general had listened intently to everything Raoul had to say against the mongrel. Raoul distrusted Scott's fancy uniform, his heavy gold-braided epaulets and the white plume on the c.o.c.ked hat that lay beside him. But Scott's features were severe, his brows straight and black, his nose sharp and his mouth tight. Raoul saw no pity in the look he bent on Auguste.

Flanking Scott were Colonel Zachary Taylor and white-bearded Brigadier General Henry Atkinson, who had commanded the militia and troops right up to the battle at the Bad Axe.

Winfield Scott glanced at a paper before him and said, "Auguste de Marion, by some also called White Bear, you are named in Colonel Taylor's report as one of the ringleaders of Black Hawk's uprising. We have heard testimony that you are a renegade and murderer."

Auguste glanced at Raoul and then said, "Have I the right to hear what has been said against me?"

Scott shook his head. "This is only a hearing, not a court-martial. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I advised my people to keep the peace," Auguste said. "And the British Band did not take my advice. So I am not much of a ringleader. And I never killed anyone, so I am no murderer. As for being a renegade, I was born a Sauk. I'm no more a renegade than any other member of my tribe who followed Black Hawk."

Auguste's voice rang loud and clear. Raoul noticed that his speech seemed more accented than he remembered it. Probably from living with Indians and talking only their talk for nearly a year.

_Is it only a year since I drove him from Victoire? Seems a whole lifetime away._

Scott cast sideways glances at Taylor and Atkinson.

"We are told you are an American citizen," said Zachary Taylor.

Auguste said, "Sir, my father was Pierre de Marion, an American citizen, and because it was his wish, I lived as a white man for six years. But my mother was Sun Woman of the Sauk tribe, and I remained a Sauk in my heart."

Scott said, "Your heart doesn't matter to the law. What was your conduct during the war?"

Raoul listened, blood hammering in his skull, to Auguste's account of Old Man's Creek. Auguste named him, turned and pointed to him.

"Then he came toward me to shoot me. I ran into the tall gra.s.s. Eli Greenglove, one of his men, shot me." He touched his mangled ear. "It was dark and the men were drunk, and I was able to stay alive by pretending to be dead. When Black Hawk found out that his emissaries had been shot, he believed he had no choice but to go on fighting. It was only then that the British Band began to attack whites."

Anger drove Raoul to his feet. "Sir, I must answer that."

Scott turned hard blue eyes on Raoul. "That won't be necessary, Colonel.

I've already had a complete report of what happened at Old Man's Creek."

Raoul heard a faint disdain in Scott's elegant Virginia drawl and felt his face turn hot.

Scott consulted in a murmur with Taylor and Atkinson. Raoul sat down slowly and drummed his fingers on his knee. He looked up to see Auguste staring stonily at him, his manacled hands clenched into fists. Raoul made himself hold Auguste's gaze.

_Shaman. I wonder if he does have any power to hurt me._

_Nonsense._

_But what is he thinking, what is he planning?_

Scott said, "We've read depositions from Miss Hale and the boy Woodrow Prewitt stating that Auguste and his squaw protected them and cared for them while they were captives of the Sauk and that Auguste eventually led them to safety."