“Not hard enough, apparently,” Barclay walks over to the two chairs next to the fireplace, stopping at a table he opens a small drawer in the table and shoves a small notebook inside. “Whiskey?” he asks and grins when Blood Eagle nods yes.
Two glasses are poured, and he waits until Blood Eagle drinks to question him.
“This is one thing white man got right,” he savors the golden liquid and smiles, “Thank you.” Both men drink, and the General watches him with shrewd eyes.
“You sought me out for a reason?” General asks.
“That I did. The problem you had is taken care of. Oddly enough the Doctor and his girlfriend were just above the ridge watching this very Fort.”
General Barclay slowly lowers himself into a chair as Blood Eagle continues. “I tracked them to Riverton and from there to the ridge above. Your other tracker is dead.” He pulls out a silver compass and tosses it on the table in front of the General.
Barclay stares at the compass and smiles before looking up at Blood Eagle. “Sit down and tell me about Rivers.”
He shrugs and sits down with a sigh.
“Not much to tell. Caught them sleeping. It was simple. I burned the bodies. I must admit I was curious to why they were watching the Fort. What’s going on here?”
The General eyes him and ignores the question. “Where are my trophies?”
Blood Eagles eyes the General and struggles to stamp back his disgust. “I didn’t think it was wise to carry them, being so close to an Army base. As I said before, I burned them.”
“That’s understandable, even though they both caused me a great deal of trouble. It’s late.” The General stands, and Blood Eagle follows him to the door.
“Feel free to stay, though I can’t guarantee your safety,” he grins at Blood Eagle.
“I understand. I’ll move on before the suns up. I’ll bed down with my horse in the barn.”
The General watches him leave and grins in the dark. Two soldiers step out of the darkness. “Follow him to the barn. Don’t kill him. It would be nice to have a prisoner.”
Blood Eagle knows they will come for him, but he also knows there is a time to fight and a time to be still. Sometimes the only way to get information is to sacrifice your own comfort.
He finds Ben, feeding his horse and hurries to his side. “Get out of here boy. They are coming for me.”
Ben hesitates, “I can help,” but Blood Eagle snaps at him.
“No, they’re out for blood. Go,” he shoves the kid and Ben nods and drops the bag, dashing to the back of the barn to watch from a stall.
The Soldiers enter the barn and surround him with pistols drawn. The leader grins and snaps a whip out, wrapping the bull leather cord around the Indians wrist with a painful crack. Blood Eagle is jerked from his horse to the ground with a thud.
“Look, boys. This here animal thinks he’s one of us. He even dresses like us.” Hatred glows in his dark eyes as he leans down over Blood Eagle.
“I work for the General!” he shouts.
“Not anymore!” The leader kicks him, and three others join in, beating and pummeling him. They rip his clothing from his body leaving him in his loincloth.
“Enough! I said don’t kill him.” General Barclay says with a sneer of disgust. The men back off, but no one lowers their guns.
“Barclay!” Blood Eagle coughs and rolls over wiping the blood from his face. His ribs burn, and he struggles to get up on his knees. “I’m under the protection of the Army,” he coughs out.
“No,” Barclay says leaning forward, “Our transaction is complete.”
Two men tie ropes around his wrists and jerk his arms out to his sides, causing him to scream out in pain. Laughter flickers through the group.
“Why are you doing this? I’ve worked for you for years.” Vengeance flickers in his eyes promising the General that he will retaliate.
“The mighty Blood Eagle, boys that’s his name.” His eyes trail up and down his body. “You disgust me. Playing dress up like a white man and soldier while betraying your own people.”
“Maybe, but I’ve been paid really well to do what you ‘chien’s’ could not do,” Blood Eagle laughs at the outrage on their faces.
“What’d he call us?” one of the men shouts.
“I called you dogs!” Blood Eagle sneers and grunts when they leap on him once more.
“Stop!” General Barclay shouts and is forced to drag one man off the prisoner.
Blood drips down his face, from a swollen, split eyebrow. His nose is throbbing, and his jaw is on fire, but still, he does not fight back. “Now you look like a Bloody Eagle,” one soldier shouts and they all laugh.
When he looks up the blood runs in streaks down his face, and his black eyes glitter with defiance. “Why are you doing this?”
“That’s easy enough. You arrived just in time to witness the Apache, your own people, attack the town of Worland.” General Barclay walks closer, and they circle the prisoner. “Using stolen Gatling guns, they will surround the city, and open fire. No one will survive. Not one women, child or man. One Indian is captured and interrogated, and he confesses to murdering an entire town.”
“Worland is home to about three hundred and fifty, civilians, General,” Blood Eagle shouts! “You can’t just…”
“I’m not doing anything, Blood Eagle, you are.” He laughs at the look of understanding that crosses Blood Eagle’s face. “You are leading your people in an assault on the town. It’s
